Ours to Keep || Anakin Skywalker

9 - Damaged Goods

1.7k words
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The day was done, long, but finally done.

I sat in my car in the parking structure, most cars around me were gone for the day except the one belonging to my boss. He was still upstairs, trying to perfect his pitch for the meet-up next week. I've learned that he's terrified of failure, although he tries to act like he's not afraid of anything, and even more terrified of disappointing his mother. I wouldn't be surprised if he ends up sleeping here.

I wouldn't be surprised if I end up sleeping here.

I tried to leave multiple times, but my vision was blocked by the tears that never stopped. I held it in all day, I did good and I was proud of myself. But even the strongest people can only endure so much before they crack.

I was cracking.

I held my hand to my chest as I leaned forward with a painful sob. I felt like my heart would stop at any minute from the amount of agony it was suffering through. I gave years of my life to that man. Those were years that I wasted and would never get back, so not only was I devastated, I was angry. I could've given those years to someone who deserved it, who deserved me.

If there is someone meant for me, life feels empty and hopeless.

I'd be lying if I said the thought of driving my car off a cliff didn't come to mind. I wouldn't be ending it over a man either, that would be stupid and not would I want written on my headstand: (y/n) (y/l/n), death by stupidity. I would end it over the loss of hope that life has any meaning. Every time I get close to something I want, it gets ripped away from me. My dream job, marriage, a family... does it ever get better? Or will I continue to be tossed to the wolves.

I breathed in and out, finally running out of tears. Just when I was about to put my car into reverse, there was a knock on my window. I glanced and sighed upon seeing Skywalker standing there with his eyes peering in. I had tinted windows so he couldn't see the state I was in, but I know he could see a shadow.

I rolled the window down only a crack, I didn't want him to see me completely, "What do you want?"

"Roll it down more," He gestured with his finger for me to lower it.

"No, just tell me what you want so I can go home." I stubbornly denied his request.

He narrowed his eyes, but sighed in defeat, "Whatever, here," He slipped a paper in the two inch crack, "Can you read that and tell me what you think when you come in tomorrow?" 

I grabbed it before it could fall to the floor of my car and skimmed through it, it was his pitch, "First off, it doesn't need to be this long," I said when I noticed it was stapled and had two more pages attached, "One page will do, you don't want to bore them."

"Then help me cut it down," His tone was demanding.

"Say please." I doubt his kind and polite mother raised him to be such a brat.

He sighed again, "Please, just look it over and cross out what need not be said and bring it in tomorrow so I can fix it."

"Fine," I set it on the passenger seat and nearly teared up again when I saw Arthur's cologne bottle in the door. I reached over and grabbed it to look it over for the first time, there was writing on it: To my love Arthur, love Katrina.