The Resident

Chapter 34

JANEL'S POV:

I woke the next morning, tired, feeling like shit, totally fucking drained of any possible energy, and although my body felt hungry, my mind felt nauseous at the thought of food.
I didn't want to faint again, even though no one would know this time, and I'd wake up and go about my misery alone. So I looked for food.
Everything in the fridge reminded me of Ian. We had always shopped together, and it was always a good time. He'd try to embarass me, and I'd try to expose him to the public and get people to realize who he was behind that hood and glasses. And sometimes a beanie.
I shook my head to stop the memories, and focused on my search for some sort of food that my mind didn't make my stomach wretch at the thought of.

There was none.

Despite there being plenty of food in the fridge and cabinets, I couldn't get myself to eat any of it.
This was really bad. I sunk down the against the kitchen wall, in sheer desperation. "Sheer". Heh. See what my mind did there? I cursed myself.
I sat against the wall on the floor for probably an hour. I watched the sun move across the window slowly. I watched the shadows on the wall change as it moved. I just sat there, lifeless. Hopeless. Wondering again, for the first time in about 18 months, WHAT was my purpose here on Earth? WHY was I here? And I thought of the bridge that I had planned to jump off of "someday" when I couldn't take it anymore.
And right now....I could NOT. TAKE. IT.

But my brain, ever trying to keep itself alive, said "what if you found out today that Ian didn't cheat on you?" and I decided the bridge would always be there, and I'd wait on that plan. Just like I had waited before I met Ian.
And to think I was soooo glad I had waited, once I met Ian.
Now, I was wishing I had jumped off, Lonnnnnnng ago, never having met Ian.
I would never have known all that I'd missed. Or all that I would have missed. And most importantly, I wouldn't be in the worst pain of my entire miserable life, right now.

I thought of Ian. I thought of how sad he looked. I wondered what he was doing right at this very moment. But then all I could picture was him waking up next to some woman. And having sex with her before even stepping out of bed. Like we always did. There was always sex. Wake up sex. After breakfast sex. After any meal sex. Night time sex. Bedtime sex. Midnight snack sex. I just stepped out to get the mail, oh thank God you're back, I missed you so much in that 3 minutes, sex......

The mail.

I willed myself to get up. I didn't know WHY I wanted to see the new pics that I'd noticed on the floor yesterday when I got home, with all the other mail from yesterday. I guessed Ian had gotten the mail at some point. I picked it all up, and dropped the boring mail on the table. Next to the OTHER set of heartbreaking pictures.
I noticed Ian hadn't opened this envelope yet. Why wouldn't he want to see what he was busted doing THIS time? I'd wanna see what I was caught doing, if I had done something to be caught at.
Weird.
I tore it open. I was so weak, I could barely tear through the end.
I slid the pics out.
Staring me in the face when I finally got the will power to look down, was Ian and this mystery chick.
The chick was naked, and posing for Ian. Ian's shirt was off, and his arms were reaching out for her.
Dry, tearless sobs gasped from my mouth. The background was in someone's house or something.
I checked and checked and checked some more, for SOME sort of sign of tampering of the picture. Anything that looked strange. Anything that didn't make sense.
There was nothing. It just looked like a normal picture.
Of my boyfriend.
With another woman.
Who the hell took these pics, anyway?

The other pic, there was only two this time, was Ian with his shirt off again, only facing the camera, and his head thrown back, mouth open, in obvious pleasure. And down in front of him, was a naked woman, her head obviously at his dick. Sucking it, I was positive. I couldn't see the bottom half of him. He was covered entirely by her naked body. He was sitting on a couch that I had never seen.
This pic hurt. Bad.
Like, pangs of stabbing pain through my chest and heart, bad.
I could tell up to this point, that all my bodily pain had been transfered from my pain filled mind.
But this stabbing pain....this was direct pain through my chest. It didn't even have to go through my mind first.
Seeing him in a sexal position with someone, after a year of him telling me how fucking special sex was...fucking killed me inside.