Chapter 54

                                    

                                          
A/N: I know it's late, sorry.  It's not even a longer chapter, but for some reason, I struggled with it (I think I'm just enjoying writing in Vince's POV the more the story goes on, idk). But I'm looking forward to the next two. I'm not totally thrilled with how this came out, but please let me know what you think. Comments, votes, and follows are greatly appreciated. I love to hear your thoughts, theories, and overall hatred for my characters, haha :) Love you guys, and hope y'all have had a great Christmas, or holidays for those who don't celebrate Christmas <3
                          
Chapter 54
                          
Simon's POV
                          
Walking out was easy, I was used to walking out on people. I had done it for years, even walking out on Aspen and Cedar at times. Even on Sam. Once you took those few steps, it was easy to continue walking. The hard part was not looking back. Especially when that person was your mate.
                          
It hurt to shut those doors behind me but I had to. I needed to make things clear. I couldn't continue with this back and forth thing between us. It would tear us apart, tear me apart if this was just how we were going to go, this constant push and pull of the bond until we would erode and fall apart like a coastal cliff.
                          
I had spent years, nearly two decades trying to tell myself that it would never work, and now that we were this close, then distant the next, it was worse than if I knew it wouldn't work in the end.
                          
He needed to stop thinking and just feel. And I needed to do the opposite. I had been feeling so much that I needed to stop and wonder what was more important. Decide if what we were doing would actually benefit us, or just make things worse.
                          
But I couldn't shake the feeling of hurt. I had been through a lot of pain and heartache before, but this was different. I knew he was trying. Goddess, I did. But I knew that he was holding back too. And I wasn't sure if it would ever get better. Would he ever fully let go?
                          
Would he be happy like this? Were we pushing this too far, forcing something that would just make us less happy in the end?
                          
He was pushing me away again, so I'd let him. If he really wanted this to work, he'd reach out to me. He would think about what I said and make up his mind. He was right, that I didn't need him. I really didn't, but in a way I did. I wanted to be content by his side. I didn't even care about the mark, about his title, or any of that. I'd be happy just to share the same space as him. But I wasn't sure if it was enough now.
                          
You deserve better, he has said, and he was right. I needed more. Less of him doubting himself, and more of him focusing on us. Less on others, and more on us.
                          
So I'd give him time, give him space. And until he figured it out, I'd wait. I'd wait another sixteen years if it took him that long to figure out what he wanted if I had to.
                          
---
                          
Something was off with Michael.
                          
It had become quite normal for him to treat me to lunch, sometimes to a fancy restaurant, or even to a small mom and pop shop. But today was different. We had been on our way to Cindy's Diner, a place I preferred over any of those expensive places easily when he had received a call.
                          
"Hm?" He gripped the steering wheel tighter as the other person on the line talked. "No, we agreed."
                          
"No, leave him to me," he mumbled. "That was the deal."
                          
A pause before Michael said harshly, "just do as I say. I call the shots, here."
                          
I didn't bother to ask him about it, but he was acting more and more agitated even through our lunch. He had barely touched his food, angrily typing a response every two minutes on his phone. This had gone on the whole time, even after I had ordered some extra food for Vince. He had barely finished one of the three pancakes on his plate, his coffee still full as he sent his card to the waitress.