Cut Scene from Breaking the Wrong!!

Happy Thursday!!

I came across this scene a few days ago. This is a scene between Macsen and Emilia, and lately, I've been missing them!
It was cut before the book was edited so there might be some errors!!

ENJOY!!

EMILIA

I walk through the aisle. My finger trails over every spine. 

My Saturday is being spent in a bookstore...with Macsen. And that may be boring to a lot of people. But I’m happy. More than happy. 

It’s been years since I’ve felt this content. I’ve lived with revenge for so long that it’s almost foreign not having it driving my thoughts and controlling my actions.

With a wide smile, I find the book I’ve been looking for. “Here it is!” 

Macsen comes up behind me, and leans his head closer to look at the title. “Rebecca? What the hell is this book?” 

“It’s amazing.” He tries to grab it and I move away from his grasp. “I read this my sophomore year of high school.”

“I’ve never heard of it. So why is it in the classics?” he challenges.

“I don’t know, Macsen. Maybe you haven’t read everything yet?” I tease. 

He smiles and I like it. Those grins happen more and more the longer were around each other. 

“So what’s this book about?” Macsen asks.

I tap my finger against the cover and hand it over to him. “Read it. It’s very good.”

Macsen says nothing and follows me as I go down the aisle. I bend down to scan the shelves. When I get to the T’s, I practically squeal. “This is what I was looking for!” 

I hold up Anna Karenina for Macsen to see. 

“Another classic that I haven’t heard of?” 

“Yes!” I lean back against the bookshelf and flip the book over. “I want to read this before the movie comes out. Once I see the previews for it, I’ll picture the actors as the characters,” I admit.

Macsen smirks. “The movie adaptions are always terrible. They leave something out. It’s impossible to get every detail from the book into the movie.” 

I nod my head in agreement. “I’m not a huge movie watcher,” I confess. “I think I watched one movie last year.” 

Macsen’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

“Completely.” My fingers flip through the pages as I keep talking to him. “I used to watch them with my sister all the time until-” 

I realize my mistake. I’ve said way too much. There’s pressure on my chest that makes breathing impossible. 

Macsen shifts closer. “Until what?” 

Pulling myself away from the shelf, I give him a smile and try to side step him. Macsen anticipates my action and blocks me. He frowns at me, his eyes filled with concern. “Until what?” he repeats. 

My shoulders shrug and I pat his chest with my shaking hand. I try my hardest to keep my voice light. “Until she grew up. It wasn’t her thing.” 

He’s silent. I can’t tell if he believes me or not. I’m dying to grab on tight to him and tell him everything. Right here. Right now. Keeping secrets from him is an extra laceration to my heart. It burns. 

But he doesn’t push me. Macsen gives me a grin and I smile back slowly as he drags a hand down my hair. “So if I want you to watch a movie with me, will you do it?”

If it was anyone else I would say no. I look up at Macsen and my heart calms down. “I’d watch one with you,” I admit. 

“Can’t believe it.” He smiles as we walk toward the cash register. “I’m learning a lot about you.”

I give him a weak response. “I’m really boring.”

“You’re really fascinating,” he insists, as he pays for my books. I let him without putting up a fight. We walk out the door, and toward my car. He keeps talking. “You hate spicy food and chicken nuggets.”

“Because I got sick from eating those two things!” I say heatedly.

“Fair enough,” Macsen concedes and shuts the driver door. “But sleeping with the television on? That’s not something I expected.” 

“I like the noise,” I murmur and put on my seatbelt. “And I hate the quiet,” I admit. I think my soul lets out a deep sigh because it’s the truth. I hate silence at night. I hate waking up to nothing. It scares me, it makes me panic because you’re left with nothing but you’re thoughts and memories. 

“I’ll buy an even bigger television for my room,” Macsen says. His hand grips the back of my seat as he turns his head over one shoulder and backs out. When he puts the car in drive he looks over at me with a shy smile. “If you stay over tonight, you can have whatever you want.” 

I clutch his hand before it slips away to shift gears. My chest is heavy as we drive out of Lexington. I’ve talked to him more than I’ve ever talked to someone. He knows my quirky habits that would make anyone else raise their brows, but when I tell Macsen, his shoulders shake and he laughs like I’ve said the funniest thing. 

We’re getting closer and I know my time with him is getting shorter and shorter, because sooner or later, I know I have to tell him the truth. Macsen deserves to know. But how can you tell someone that you moved across the country just to get revenge against them? I don’t think there is any easy way to say that. 

Leaning back in the passenger seat, I watch him shift the gears of my BMW with ease. The driver seat is pushed back as far as it could go and Macsen still looks cramped up in the small space. His window is slightly cracked open, and it blows his dark hair around. With his concentration on the road, I only see his profile. His brows are slanted down as he stares ahead. Right now, he looks severe and a little dangerous but there’s nothing to watch out for with Macsen.            He’s not dangerous, he’s wounded. I know it in the way he grips me tightly, like I’m going to leave him and never look back. 

Together, we’re nothing but stitches and scars. Maybe I’m crazy and naive but I think if I spend more time with Macsen, my scars could fade away until I was blemish free.