Bullet ✔️

Chapter 34

Working was not as rewarding as before. I'd had to cancel a few jobs, politely apologizing and saying they could all have their deposits back, just because I didn't feel good enough to look at strangers' happiness and loving looks. But, since I worked for myself that also meant I'd had no income for a few weeks, and I'd have less than fifty percent of my usual monthly income. It would still be enough to pay off my regular bills, but I had the house now as well, and I needed to get back to work. No matter how much my heart protested.

It was a lovely day, though. The sun was shining, not a cloud to be seen, so it was perfect for the outdoor engagement photos this couple had booked. They were dressed in white dresses, each sporting a gorgeous, matching ring on their manicured hands. They were beautiful, and would make even more beautiful brides when they got around to tie the knot, but for now I was content with photographing them while they stood under a lush tree, pretending I wasn't there. Or maybe they'd simply forgotten.

After the shoot I was showered with thanks and praise, and though I tried to take it all in and bask in it like I used to, it didn't hit me the same way. Something had changed. "We were so happy when you became available again," the shortest of the brides-to-be said, smiling from ear to ear. The other nodded along, but her smile wasn't as big. "I hope your vacation was good and all, but we're glad you're back."

Vacation. The lie I'd posted on my website, apologizing for my lack of openings over the past few weeks. It wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either. I just figured it would be easier to tell happy people about to get married that I just had a short break—a vacation—rather than weighing them down with the truth. Besides, I didn't want their sympathy. I just wanted the jobs done, and get on with my life.

I promised them to be quick with the retouching, and gave them my usual, "I'd love to immortalize your big day, too, when it's time," before I was on my way.

Some part of me hoped I'd regain the passion I had for photography soon, but another hoped I'd find something else to do so I'd never have to touch another camera again. I was angry. I was so, so angry, wanting nothing more than to kick in the door to my apartment, throw the vase on the kitchen table into the wall, and smash Orlov's head in with one of the mismatched chairs. I'd never been an angry person. I got annoyed, and irked, but never angry.

With my head in my hands, between my knees, I started sobbing into the wooden floorboards.

That happened a lot. I could be completely fine one minute, the next I'd be bawling my eyes out for no reason. At least it felt like no reason, but the truth was that the enormous hole in my chest ached, and sometimes it became too much to handle. It mostly happened when I was alone; with people I could somehow keep it contained, or at least just let a tear or two fall, instead of this. I was ugly-crying into the newly cleaned wood. I'd scrubbed it, just to make sure the place looked its best before I sold it, but now I'd have to do it again.

It was undeniably hard. So much was happening at the same time. Most of it was good, though, but the bad stuff outweighed the good by a ton anyway.

I rolled over to my side, clutching my knees with my arms as my body felt like it was going to shut down. Everything hurt so badly. Did I feel guilty for going back to work? It'd been too long. I needed an income, even though I could still barely speak, and only ate when I forced myself to. How else could I pay two mortgages that month, and the next, and probably the next?

I couldn't just lay there and cry, no matter how much I wanted to. In just a short hour I had plans to drink all the fruity drinks and wine I could with my best friend, while her husband and my boyfriend bought. They had business at the night club, and Elina said it was the perfect opportunity for me to try to do something that would help me get back on track—if working didn't help. And before that, I promised Damian I'd start moving some of my stuff.