Eat The Rich (bxb)

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Chapter Forty One


Managing to eat a couple of bites of the meal, not wanting to ruin tonight completely but Weston didn't seem to care. He just wanted to know that I was alright, considering that I was unusually quiet but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. Being sad is a horrible emotion, it takes over every inch of your body and physically stops you from confiding in anyone in this world.

I felt disconnected, severely and I wanted the dull ache inside of my body to go away. Doing anything it would take to feel my heart beating with happiness, not guilt and shame.

"Do you want to go?" Weston questions as he hands his card over to the waitress.

My head nods towards him, feeling my fingers beginning to tingle with a wave of anxiety. Wanting nothing more than to get out of here and into a safe, silence space. "Okay," he tells me as he punches in his pin and thanking the waitress as she walks away.

Pushing my chair out from underneath me and watching as Weston follows my lead, slipping in beside me and lacing our fingers through each others. His gesture comforted me and I was grateful that he was so understanding considering I was acting like a child.

The restaurant had become a lot more busier, people now crowding around the bar waiting to be served. Weston leads me through the sea of people as we push past endless bodies, eager to breath some fresh air, beginning to heat up underneath my jacket.

Just as we reach past the bar my shoulder bashes into a hardened arm, stopping my steps as I look up at the person. They grab my shoulder and apologise but I mumble something inaudible, Weston stopping and turning towards me.

"Nath," a guy calls from the bar. "Stop harassing people, that's my job."

My ears instantly recognised that voice, raising my eyes to meet his. Watching as he stares back at me, a smile on his face. The guy from the bar on Saturday, he was starting directly at me like nothing wrong was wrong.

I prayed that my eyes had deceived me but I was wrong, he was standing right there in the flesh and I couldn't ignore the bile that begun to rise in my throat at the sight of him. Almost in shock that I was seeing him again and that he was actually here.

He pushes up from the stool, surrounded by his friends as he takes a step closer to me. My hands clench around Weston's beginning to shake as he edges closer. "I had a good night the other night," he drops his eye into a wink.

Weston was now directly behind me, his hand pressing to the small of my back. "What did you say?" Weston's voice snaps instantly at him.

"You know what you fucking did," my voice wobbles but I continue to grit my teeth towards him.

"What's going on?" Weston questions from behind me, his voice strong but confused.

His dark eyes narrow towards me, his lips forming into a laugh. "Well maybe you shouldn't have got so drunk so you could have said no." His mouth smirks towards me in some form of glare.

I don't miss the way some of his friends stop to listen to what he says, I also don't miss the way my fist pulls back as I swing it directly onto his nose. He stumbles back against the bar, his friends trying their best to catch his fall, their faces turning to shock.

My fist burned but I didn't focus on that, I focused on my heavy breathing as I look down to him cradling his nose, shocked that I could do such a thing.

Weston instantly grabs my shoulder, shouting something into my ear but I don't hear what he says. Blood rushes to my head, to my fist, to my ears. Everything slows down as I watch blood drip from his nose, wiping it away with the edge of his wrist.

"I did not give you consent to fucking assault me," I spit out angrily. Causing his friends to look between each other in pure shock, unsure what to do. "So stay the fuck away from me you cunt."

Shrugging off Weston's hold and pacing out of the restaurant and onto the street, doubling over as a shock of panic flourishes through my body suddenly. Holding onto the building for support, trying to catch my breath as I sob out uncontrollable tears.

"Micah," Weston's voice is directly behind me, wrapping his arms around me in attempt to calm me. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe, just breathe. I've got you."

My mouth gapes open as my hands clutch onto his shirt tightly, barely able to keep myself up as my legs turn to jelly beneath me. Nudging my head against his chest, tears rolling down my cheeks as a fire burned inside my chest that felt unbearable. The pain was so severe that I couldn't even see, nothing around me felt real.

"Darryl!" Weston shouts across the street.

He manages to move me to the edge of the road, opening the car door open for me and helping me inside. Instantly collapsing back against the seats as Weston tells Darryl to take us back to his instantly, his hand cupping the side of my cheek as I sob silently.

"Hey," he shakes his head, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of my head. "It's okay," he tries to calm me.

The car pulls away from the curb and I urgently needed to get out of here, away from anyone and everyone. Embarrassed to my core that I just punched him in front of everyone, in front of Weston.

He holds onto me tightly, occasionally kissing my temple as we drove through the city. Tears completely clouded my vision but I didn't care at this point, I felt weak and pathetic. Of course something like this would happen to me, I'm stupid and naïve.

Once we pull up outside the building, Weston thanks Darryl but I was still in too much shock to say anything. He tries to help me out of the car, pulling me into the foyer and into the lift, keeping my swollen eyes trained on the floor.

Weston guiding me into his apartment and shutting the door behind us.

Silence.

That's what I needed, complete silence to try and figure out what was going on in my brain, before I started smashing my head against the floor.

Weston grips onto my shoulders and helps to take off my jacket and forcing me to sit down on the stool so he could remove my shoes.

"Do you want to get changed into something comfy?" He questions quietly.

I blink once, my head moving slightly as Weston takes a step away and rummages through a basket of fresh clothes. Digging out a jumper and some joggers, resting them down onto the counter beside me.

Weston takes my hands and inspects my knuckles, not even realising that they had begun to turn purple. One knuckle split and a smudge of blood was smeared against my skin. He raises them to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to my knuckles.

His hand moves to my cheeks and he twists my head to look at him, his expression was killing me, he looked out of his depth and conflicted.

"Micah," he breathes out, his throat clenching in the process. "Why didn't you tell me?"

My eyes blink once but I keep them on his, watching as sadness fills his eyes.

"You sat there and listened to me waffle on about my stupid ex when you were feeling like this," he shakes his head, a strike of guilt washing over his face. "Fuck Micah, we should have spoke about what happened, that is what actually matters. Not my stupid fucking ex."

Sniffling and wiping my nose with my hand. "I didn't know how," I admit.

Weston's face sinks at my response. "I feel so guilty," he shakes his head. "I made this about myself when I knew something was wrong."

I wanted to cry again, how was he here feeling like this when it was completely my fault?

"And in no way am I pressuring you to tell me what happened," he rushes quickly, resting a hand down on my knee. "I just want you to know that I am going to be here for you, if you need to talk about it or if you need a place to come and cry. Or laugh, have a drink. Anything Micah. I'm here."

My eyes begin to wobbly with tears. "I fucked everything up West," I mumble as I purse my lips to stop them from trembling.

"You haven't fucked up anything," he shakes his head towards me, moving his hands to cup my cheeks gently. "You've done nothing wrong."

"I have," I nod, feeling my tears fall to my lips. "It's all my fault. If I just came to hear you out rather than ignoring my feelings, I wouldn't have gone out that night. It wouldn't have happened."

Weston leans forward to wrap his arms around me, sobbing into his shoulder uncontrollably. He picks me up in his arms and walks us away from the kitchen, settling us down on his leather sofas, keeping me close and feeling safe between his arms.

His fingers brush my hair from my forehead, then wipe away my continuous tears. "You cannot blame yourself Micah," he leans forward to kiss the side of my face. "I don't know what happened but it wasn't your fault."

My eyes blink up at him, leaning my forehead against his chin. "I just feel so disgusting," I mumble, feeling his fingertips dance along my back against the fabric of my shirt.

"You are far from disgusting Micah," he tells me strongly. "Whatever he did to you, he's the one who is disgusting and fucked up. This doesn't reflect on you whatsoever."

"That's the thing, I don't even know what he did to me."

Weston's expression hardens at my words, his jaw ticking as he shakes his head to me. "I wish I fucking punched him too."

"I'm sorry I ruined our night," I pull away and clamp my eyes shut.

"Hey," Weston's hand pulls me back. "You didn't ruin anything, I'm just glad that we are together now. I hate the thought of you being alone and inside your own head about this, I want to be there for you."

I sigh out and lean against the side of the sofa, Weston keeps his eyes on me. "Do you want to stay here tonight?" He asks gently.

"Can I?" I croak out.

Weston smiles towards me and presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. "You can stay here whenever you want."

"Thanks," I mumble, my nose feeling blocked as I try to speak.

"Do you want to have a shower and get changed?" Weston suggests. "We could watch a movie and relax?"

My stomach suddenly growls and Weston's eyes widen towards me, I couldn't help the quiet laugh that fell from my lips. "Of course I'd be hungry now," I shake my head to myself.

"Shall we order something sweet?"

The idea of a chocolate waffle with smarties was giving me severe comfort food vibes. "Yeah," I nod to him.

"I'll have a look on UberEats at what we can get, you go shower and I'll order." He tells me with a small smile.

"Okay," I whisper as I eventually push myself up from the sofa.

Weston's eyes watch me carefully. "Do you need me to come with you?" He asks.

I shake my head, maybe a little time to myself is what I needed to compose my thoughts. "I'll be okay." I tell him.

He nods back at me and smiles. "Okay well I'll be right here."

Turning back for a split second as Weston looks down at his phone, eyebrows pulled down into a frown as he scrolls. Without Weston I knew this situation would be a million times worse, with him in the picture everything felt calmer and continuing felt doable.

He was the most selfless person I had ever met and I would never take that for granted.



. . .


The rest of the book is up on Patreon for early access and the 1st chapter of the sequel. Link in bio or link is www.Patreon.com/dreammcatcher


Hey my loves!! What did you think of this chapter??

I'm so glad Micah stood up for himself and punched him in the face, I also love Weston's response. Calm and rational to help Micah come to terms with that happened instead of being angry at the situation.

I love them both sm🥺
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