Chapter 1

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A year later – Miami Beach, Florida

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A year later – Miami Beach, Florida

The weather has been grey lately, as I am in front of a panoramic window watching the heavy rain pelting it in my 23rd floor penthouse, sitting on an a very elegant, cozy basil art-deco velvet sofa from the 1960s, ideal for cuddling and wishing Vincent was here holding me right now. Had the circumstances been different. .

My legs are crossed as I lay there with my right hand stuck between my thighs to warm up my fingers as my left hand hangs off the sofa, suspended just above the rim of the glass of scotch whiskey, which has been stuck to the dark brown marble floor. A thunder charged my laconic body with rigid tension, I felt like I was floating in my living-room but I was rather floating among retentions vacantly.

I was unable to see, as my eyes welled up with tears, I blinked and a tear ran down my cheek. My head tilted to the side as I started to hear "I Put A Spell On You" by Nina Simone from somewhere in the high ceilings. It immediately recalled hearing this song in Vincent's kitchen every morning, when Fiorella would prepare breakfast for us. I paused for a breath, as my skin prickled with alarm at ascensionism of the initially happy times.

They say love has great power and so does weakness. I learned it the hard way... I still can't wrap my head how it feels to have been engaged in a stroll of deception with the person I fell in love with, just for him to become my own worst and greediest enemy. I cannot believe I've let to be fooled twice, even though I knew of something off.

In strength we are weak. In weakness we are strong.

David was like broken glass debris of my shattered, long time ago surmounted past. In my teenage years, he would always say, "Be like a glass, when it breaks, cut them!" Could I cut Vincent who I once loved with all of my heart? Wouldn't it break me even more to see his grey eyes filled with love and darkness, begging for mercy? Surely, without alleging it. No matter how much I'd hated to admit it, David was always right. No matter how much I'd despised him, I constantly heard his words in the back of my mind and he would always denounce me by saying, "you are a fucking brat." The years have gone by, yet to the date I remember every detail of his humiliation at the back of my head. Yet I understand that the card has been declined, though the balance is quite full.

I sighed, as my fingers coiled around the cold drink, smearing the sweat from the glass on the floor. I had put on my silky atlas dark red robe after having taking a shower, as I watched it slide down my shoulder in the reflection of the panoramic window in front of me. The light twisted at such angle that some of the raindrops picked up the red from the robe and it looked like is was raining blood.

It eroded my heart and tore me apart back then to look at the man who once made me blissfully happy, like no one else before. As he took his last breath with a single tear rolling down his cheek, I stood there in disbelief and I saw my hands covered in crimson red blood, and it was not mine.

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