Eleven
The Clock's Footsteps“I can’t be always go out because you want to,” I sighed. “I have a lot of work to do.”
“It’s fine. I’ll help you,” Bobby smiled.
Bobby was throwing his money on me like he did the first couple dates. He rented out an entire modern art gallery with the genuine masterpieces. I wasn’t one to dislike modern art, but I truthfully never really got it. Some were amazing, I’ll give them that, but some just looked like a couple circles stacked on top of one another.
“Seriously, Bobby,” I finally stopped in my tracks. “This needs to stop.”
“What do you mean?” Bobby’s face hardened.
“All of this is just a game to you; you don’t care about me. You don’t care how I feel. You just force yourself onto me: dragging me wherever you want to go.”
Bobby stared with me with hurtful glares, “Do you honestly believe that? Do you really think that I would go through this much trouble just because I find it funny?”
“Then what else? Since the beginning, you thought of me as some sort of e. Then you felt pity on me; giving me a job, clothes, and a promotion for no reason. Why else would you do that for someone?”
“Come here,” Bobby grabbed my wrist again.
“No,” I yanked my arm free. “I’m not your toy.”
“I never thought you were a toy!” Bobby’s voice started to get louder, then calmed himself down quickly. “Maybe I did at first, but…”
“But?” I gave him a look to tell him: he better hurry up and explain himself.
Bobby stared at the floor, “I don’t know how to show affection to someone I love. The only way I know how is with my money. If you say you don’t want it and act as if you hate it… I don’t have anything else for you.”
“You…,” I tried to process what he said in my head. “You… love me?”
Bobby stared at me with heartbroke
Comments