Their doll 2

52- New year, Old me

One minute.

One single minute. A lot could have happen within the past sixty seconds, yet, time stood still. Surrounding me, everything moved in slow-motion, silence-movie like. Every object. Every noise. Every smell. All my senses were blocked. From head to toe, every organ felt numb, constricted with shock. My eyes stayed glued to her face. My mind contemplating whether or not what I saw was real.

It was real. She's here. In the same building as us.

It took me a moment to reconcile the scene in front of me in my brain. This new vision of reality. That she would run and hide from us as long as she lives were to be expected. But this. I wasn't at all prepared for this.

There was something about her. Even from far distance, I felt it the moment that woman stepped into my view. She didn't even have to try to be in my focus and for me to notice one single woman in an ocean of people, that's rare. She stood out. In the most memorizing, there was something about her that felt familiar. Something I didn't want to take on, but I did anyways.

And now, I'm incapable.

Stuck between the idea of getting over her and getting her, I couldn't decide. Hate is a very strong word, but I was certain I hate her. I really do. Very much so.

However, the way she looked tonight, it made me realize that when creating a perception of one, it's often not enough if your heart doesn't believe it too.

I wanted to dislike her. I wanted to find her unattractive. I wanted to hate the way she changed but I had never seen a single human-being so beautiful. It hurts. I thought she was drop-dead gorgeous since the very first moment we met but tonight, her visual is a whole another story. In every way, she excelled. I couldn't help but found her pose to be a lot more confident. Her smile shined and even prettier than I remembered. Her eyes too, they glowed differently, but only when looking into his.

My fist clenched at my side as I retreated to that far corner of my mind. I tried to distract myself with her new details so I could forget what she was putting out for show. When he ran his fingers through her hair, I noticed they were highlighted. They looked beautiful. The color really complemented her skin tone. She wore a lot more make-up than she used to. She dressed exceptionally well. Elegant. Expensive. I mean, I'm no dress expert but anyone with good taste and good eyes could spot the differences between a cheap and expensive piece of clothing. The cutting. The pattern. The fabric. With every movement her dress reflected the light from different angle. It also accented her curves well, hugged her in all of the right places. Automatically, I assumed that dress was gifted to her by someone. Aurora doesn't like overspending. Especially, when it come to her clothings and accessories. Vividly, I remembered our unplanned trip to Monte Carlo. How she refused to accept my credit card, but didn't hesitate to overuse it once challenged. She tried so hard that day to get back at me by wasting my money on expensive useless items. Necklaces, earrings, rings, dresses she bought. She never needed them. Never used them. But when I found out that she had asked her best friend, Sabrina to pawn all those stuffs I bought her before she ran away, I was infuriated. She could have asked. If money was what she was after, I had no problem giving her millions.

But unfortunately, money wasn't the only thing this woman wanted from me.

Standing there with her arms wrapped around his neck, she looked happier. The contentedness in her eyes burned. It was like somebody had poured acid directly into my gaping wound. I always thought I had a high threshold for pain. But it wasn't high enough to endure the scene in front of me. The wound burned a thousand different ways possible, and all I could think of was a thousand different way as to how I could make her feel it too. This pain. She deserved it. After all, I knew— would be too terrible for me to bear alone. I wouldn't let her get away with it that time.