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"I love you." He whispered, kissing my forehead while cradling my face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wish I could take away your pain."

You could've prevented this pain. You caused this pain.

You held my heart in the very hands that you're touching me with right now. You tugged at my heartstrings, made me swoon. Then you squeezed my heart, draining it dry from the blood pumping through it, and dropped it to the floor like it was your dirty laundry.

I hate you. Three words I have never said to anyone in my life, because I couldn't handle the burden of hating someone. But those three words rung in my head, blaring inside my skull.

He pulled me in for a kiss while I stayed numb in his grasp. Not that he seemed to mind. He didn't even notice.

"I'll be home tonight, and we can get takeout from your favorite restaurant." He smiled cautiously, like he's done over a hundred times before. I won't fall for it anymore.

I nodded subtly, and his grin grew, thinking I'm still complied to him. I'm not. He kissed my forehead again, then finally stepped back. Grabbing his briefcase, he gave me one last look before he stepped out the door.

A small smile, one which at first glance people would think it was a loving smile. This isn't my first glance. I can see the dullness in his eyes, how it doesn't have the same shine it did when we first met. He's gotten worse at pretending.

I waited until I heard the door click close to stagger into the bedroom. The only room without cameras. I felt my eyes burn up but I can't stop now. I grabbed one of my suitcases and started piling whatever clothes I could grab.

I scrambled out the front door, my eyes blurred with tears. He might be looking at the security camera in the hallway, but I can't stop. I could barely make it out of the elevator.

The doorman in the lobby gave me a shocked look, not one of concern, just utter surprise. But I kept trudging, pulling my luggage with me. I made it out the front door and hailed the first taxi I saw.

Frantically, I pushed my suitcase in the backseat and I sat next to it. After telling the driver the address, he sped to Lower Manhattan. It was a short drive, but I managed to slow down my tears until I was only occasionally sniffling.

The taxi came to a stop in front of a familiar apartment complex and I threw a couple of ten dollar bills at him before getting out of the car. I pulled my baggage up to the long rows of buttons and pressed the one with the number to my best friend's apartment. I prayed that this is still intact, that I haven't severed every friendship I've made in my entire life.

The speaker above me buzzed, indicating for me to go inside. She was on the first floor so I didn't have to drag my suitcase up a narrow stairway. I walked up to her apartment door, knocking twice. I waited for her to open up the door as I stood in the harsh fall weather.

Any other day, I'd choose the cold over the heat, but the wind mixed with my tears almost froze my face.

I heard her door unlock and it slowly opened, like she's afraid he's going to be next to me. Once she saw the coast was clear, she swung it open fully, looking at me concerned. Her eyes fell all over my face, from my puffy eyes to the old cut on my lip, and the redness on my left cheek.

Vanessa was dressed up, probably just came home from a modeling shoot. Her locs were styled with some gold rings, it looked amazing with her warm skin tone. I missed her so much, I hate him for taking me away from her.

She didn't hesitate to hug me. She held me so tightly like if she were to let go, I would slip away again.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, letting some tears fall. It warmed up my cold face.

She rubbed her hand up and down my back, "It's not your fault, Han. It never was."

Once she pulled away, my body felt cold again. She held my face in her hands, looking at it for any more marks or scars.

"Oh god, what did he do?"

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