Baby, I’m sorry. I know I was cold towards you. And yes, I took you for granted, but I still cared for you.”
“That’s crap.” David ‘s head grew hot and the tone of his voice raged. But he became uncomfortably placid when he saw the 1994 cover on the screen Patrice’s laptop.
“Baby, I…” Maria continued.
“Stop calling me baby, because I’m not your baby,” David said adamantly, going back into the bedroom.
“So you’re going to run away from me like you from all of your other problems. You ran away from your mother, now me?”
“Leave my mother out of this. She has nothing to do with us.”
“Fine. You coward.”
“I knew the real you would come out sooner or later.”
“You’re a piece of crap, and a lousy writer,” Maria kept the verbal onslaught going. She really wanted to break him down. Her insults shot at him like poisoned arrows. “I hope your books never get published again.”
“Are you done?” David pulled the phone further away from his ear.
The only sound heard over the phone were Maria sobs and heavy breath’s passing through David nostrils from the stress channeling from his heart.
“Please, do us a favor. Leave me alone.”
“You bastard,” she screamed. “I hope your mother dies before you reconcile with her.”
“Maria, I forgive you, but goodbye. Go in peace.”
David couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cold heartless, so self-centered, and totally oblivious to it. It didn’t matter how many times he’d tried to save their relationship, it still failed.