Response to this:
Enrique Montoya had fcked up. That much was clear. Every single person in that circle probably knew it. Hell, Annie’s silence as she looked away screamed it louder than any words could. But for once, Ricky wasn’t hiding. Not behind his sarcasm, not behind his charm, and definitely not behind his mask of indifference. He was here, broken and bare for everyone to see, and honestly? He was fcking done.
Done with pretending. Done with games. Done with trying to piece together what he’d broken when it was obvious she wasn’t ready—or willing—to hear him out. But if this was the last chance he had to speak, then he was damn well going to take it.
Ricky stood up from his seat, his glass of vodka still in his hand as he looked around at the group. He caught their stares—curious, judgmental, or downright amused—but ignored them. His eyes eventually landed back on Annie. Her face was turned away, but he didn’t care.
“Fine. You don’t believe me. None of you probably fcking do, and honestly, I don’t blame you,” he started, his voice sharp but laced with something heavier—something raw. “But let me be clear for the last time: I love her. I’m in love with her. And yeah, maybe I fcked it up beyond repair, but I’m not going to sit here and pretend like it didn’t mean something. Like she doesn’t mean something.”
There was a pause, and Ricky’s grip on the glass tightened, his knuckles whitening as he held back the wave of frustration and hopelessness bubbling in his chest. “You all can laugh, roll your eyes, or whatever the hell you want to do. But I’m done with this game. I’m done with all of you.”
He took a step back, his gaze lingering on Annie one last time. “Annie…” Her name left his lips softer than anything else he’d said, almost like a plea. “I’ll be out front by the fire pit. If you want to talk—really talk—I’ll wait for you there. If not… I’ll take the hint.”
Without another word, Ricky placed the glass on the table and walked out of the room, his heart pounding louder than the muffled chatter of the group behind him. He didn’t know if she’d follow, but for the first time, he was leaving the ball in her court. And maybe, just maybe, she’d surprise him.
@novella - man do I have a lot of half written stuff on a document that I’m just now finishing 