The Possessive Mr. Hyland

Chapter Twelve

enjoy~

Songs:

All of the Stars - Ed Sheeran

Never Stop - SafetySuit

Chapter Twelve

She's Luis Montgomery's daughter so she's going to push and push until she gets the answers she wants.

"I know you, Jason," she tells me. "And I know that you're a pleaser. Not because you have to be but because it's your nature. You don't like it when people feel bad, and you loathe being the cause of an argument."

I looked up at her, opening my mouth; to argue, but she stops me. I want to speak up, but I guess she needs to get this out before I start defending my actions.

"I'm not saying that you would cave in an argument," she said pointedly. "I am however saying that you wouldn't let it go that far. You would make sure an argument never even started." I pause. "So, if Rebecca wanted to redecorate the living room, you just said yes and handed over your credit card."

I frowned. How the hell did she know that?

"Mom," she admits sheepishly.

I sigh and she continues. "The only thing you never gave her is children, so...she used that and she made you feel guilty, right?"

I say nothing, staring off into space.

"Fine. If you won't talk, then I'll just continue," she huffed. "I wonder, when was the last time Rebecca gave you something? And I'm not talking about a birthday gift, Jason. I'm talking about simple reciprocation or a goddamn thank you."

I shift my eyes over to glare at her as anger clouded my senses. My hands are balled up into fists and I'm shaking. I've never been pissed off at Charlotte, and I never will. The anger was directed at me and my naivety. At the fact that I was blinded by Rebecca's false love to realize I've always been a means to an end to her. She probably never even cared for me at all.

Charlotte keeps pushing.

"And I'm curious, Jason... did Rebecca ever do anything to please you the way you pleased her?" Fury runs through my body as I try to recall it ever happening. "Yes, I'm talking about both sexual and nonsexual pleasing. Because as far as I know, you did everything she wanted, but... what did she do for you? Did she ever ask you what you wanted? Did she even care? Did you care? Was it okay for her to turn you down because she's a woman? Would it make you a pig just because you wanted something from her? Did she often play her woman-card and how delicate she was? And let me guess, you rubbed her feet because you were a gentleman and an amazing husband, but did she ever do it for you?"

All. Buttons. Pushed.

I can see that she expects me to blow up. I can see that she's waiting for me to shout at her, or defend myself, or... hell, I don't know, but it's clear that she's waiting for a fight.

She won't get one.

I can't yell at Charlotte, because... she's just saying what her own mother has tried to tell me for years. Only, I didn't allow myself to listen to Natalie. It's different with Charlotte, though, and I can't not listen.

No. I won't shout.

And if there's anyone I want to shout at, it's me.

I feel embarrassed, utterly humiliated, and angry. I know it's my pride, and I shouldn't care because it's Charlotte - the woman I'm ridiculously in love with, but I can't help it. I can't help but to feel wounded by the fact that a twenty-one year old woman can read me better than I can. I should know myself best. Charlotte shouldn't be the one telling me how I feel. Or rather, she shouldn't be correct. I should be correct, yet I'm not.