Chapter 59: You Hurt Me

Chapter 59: You Hurt Me

Ivy

I don’t know where the courage came from. I don’t know how I managed to say no to Leo without my voice cracking or my knees buckling.

But the second the words left my mouth, reality crashed down on me like a cold wave.

We were completely alone in this house.

No Solomon. No Mrs. Kathy. No one to hear me if things went wrong. No one to step in if Leo lost control the way he had at the match.

The thought made my stomach twist. My pulse hammered in my ears as I took a cautious step back, watching him carefully.

Leo stood frozen by the counter, fists clenched tightly at his sides. He hadn’t said a single word in what felt like forever. He just stared at me, eyes dark and unreadable, jaw locked.

“Leo, I’m sorry. Please don't get mad,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. My hands trembled at my sides. “I thought you’d want me to be honest. That’s why I answered truthfully.”

The moment the last word left my lips, he moved.

His hand shot out and grabbed my upper arm, fingers digging in with bruising force. He yanked me forward, pulling me flush against his chest. Pain flared hot and sharp where his grip tightened.

I hissed, wincing. “Ow—Leo, stop—”

He wasn’t listening. His eyes were pitch black with fury, boring into me like he could see straight through to my soul. The rage rolled off him in waves, electric and terrifying.

I could feel it in the way his fingers flexed, in the rapid rise and fall of his chest against mine. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought it might burst.

“Why?” His voice was rough, scraped raw. “You wouldn’t marry me? Why?”

I panicked, words tumbling out in a desperate rush. “Leo, it’s not you. It’s me. I’m barely twenty-one. I don’t want to marry anyone right now. I still have college to finish first. I have dreams, plans—”

“Bullshit.” His grip tightened further, sending fresh sparks of pain up my arm. “But you’d marry Anderson in a heartbeat, wouldn’t you?”

My eyes widened in horror. “No! Leo, please—stop. It hurts—”

The microwave timer went off with a shrill beep, slicing through the tension like a blade.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch.

Leo’s eyes cleared instantly. He released me so suddenly I stumbled back, staring at his own hand like it belonged to a stranger.

“Fuck, Ivy. I’m sorry.” He tugged at his hair with both hands, pacing a step away. “What did I do?”

I cradled my arm against my chest, hissing at the throbbing pain. The skin already felt hot and tender. “You hurt me.”

He shook his head rapidly, looking devastated. “No. I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional. I would never hurt you, Ivy. It just… I got really upset. I’m so sorry.”

I took another step back, tears pricking my eyes. “You asked why I wouldn’t marry you. This is the reason.” My voice cracked as I wiped a tear with the back of my hand. “I don’t want to marry someone who doesn’t think twice before hurting me just because he’s angry.”

I turned and bolted for the stairs, feet pounding on the hardwood. Breakfast was forgotten. Everything was forgotten except the need to get away. To breathe. To think.

“Ivy, wait!” His footsteps thundered behind me. “I’m sorry!”

I took the stairs two at a time, desperate, my breath coming in short gasps. My asthma threatened to flare, but I pushed through, slamming the bedroom door behind me. I headed straight for my bag, yanking it open with shaking hands.

“I’m leaving,” I announced, voice trembling as I started searching through the clothes inside for something decent enough to wear.

The door flew open. Leo spun me around to face him, his hands gentle this time but his eyes wild. “You’re leaving me?” He sounded bewildered, almost broken. “Ivy, I’m really, truly sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’d never intentionally hurt you. Please.”

I looked at him through blurry eyes, chest tight. “Why do you always get so upset? I told you to let go. What is wrong with you? Why did you bring up Andy in our conversation?”

“I’m really fucking sorry, Ivy.” His voice cracked.

Without warning, he dropped to his knees right there on the bedroom floor, looking up at me like I held his entire world in my hands.

“It won’t happen again. Please don’t leave me. I love you. I’d never hurt you.”

Seeing him on his knees, this powerful, terrifying boxer reduced to begging, made something twist painfully in my chest.

My resolve wavered.

I wanted to believe him. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and pretend none of this had happened. But the throbbing bruise on my arm reminded me of the truth.

“Leo, you need help,” I said softly, tears slipping down my cheeks. “You can’t control your temper. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m trying.” He rose to his feet slowly, eyes desperate. “What do you suggest? I lock myself up in rehab? No fucking way.”

I watched, heart aching, as he grabbed my bag and carried it back into the closet like that could make me stay. “You’re not leaving me,” he said firmly. “You’re not going back to Anderson.”

“I never said I was going back to him, Leo.” My voice was quiet, exhausted. “I would have gone home. Or to a motel. Or anywhere. Away from him. And you.” The last part came out barely above a whisper.

He walked back to me, stopping just inches away. “You want to get away from me?”

I looked down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. “You hurt me.”

“Let me see.” His voice softened completely. He gently took my arm, turning it to examine the damage. His breath hitched. “Fuck.”

The imprint of his fingers had already bloomed into an ugly bruise—dark purple and blue against my skin, the shape of his hand, clear as day. He leaned down and pressed the softest kiss to the spot, lips lingering like an apology.

“Forgive me, Ivy. I’m so sorry. I would never dream of hurting you.”

“I know,” I whispered. Because deep down, I did know he hadn’t meant to. Not consciously. He just… couldn’t control it. The realization sat heavy in my chest.

“Please sit still. I’ll get an ice pack now.” He practically sprinted out of the room.

The second he was gone, I grabbed my phone with trembling fingers. I needed proof. I needed to remember this moment clearly.

I snapped a quick photo of the bruise, the angry marks staring back at me from the screen. It looked worse in the picture. My stomach turned.

Leo needed real help. Professional help. And I needed to tell Julia. Soon. Before something worse happened.

I dropped the phone the moment I heard his footsteps returning. He came back with a wrapped ice pack and a small towel, kneeling in front of me again. His touch was feather-light as he pressed the cold pack against my arm, holding it there carefully.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Don’t thank me.” He looked up, eyes full of self-loathing. “I did this to you. I should fix it. I’ll never hurt you again, Ivy. Ever. I swear it.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted so badly to believe him. His voice sounded so sincere, his touch so gentle now. But I remembered the first time he brought me here. I remembered his promise then, too.

And how quickly it had shattered today.

The ice stung against the bruise, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his fingers. I sat there in his oversized t-shirt, legs dangling off the bed, feeling small and uncertain.

Part of me still wanted to run. Another part — the part that craved his smiles, his protection, the way he made me feel— wanted to stay and believe we could work through this.

Leo stayed on his knees for a long time, tending to my arm with more care than I had ever seen from him. The silence stretched between us, heavy with everything unsaid.

I wiped another tear away, wondering how long I could keep walking this tightrope before one of us fell.