Trouble in Paradise

Chapter VI - Luke

"I really don't want to go out, Wells," I tell my best friend again even as we're on the way to god knows where. "Can we just go to your place?"

"Ok, ok! We're going to my place then. But we're getting food on the way. You look like shit and I bet you haven't eaten anything today."

"I drank some tea," I say, as if that'd made my case.

In my efforts to not pry on Peter's life, I never stopped to think that maybe he was having a good time. What if he's sharing pictures with Gabe? I'm quick to bring up my phone and open the only personal social media page Peter has hoping there are no pictures of him having fun today, and there aren't. Nope. Not one.

What I do find is that his profile picture has changed to an old headshot of him wearing a suit, and worst of all, his relationship status changed to 'Separated' about an hour ago. The bastard couldn't wait for us to talk to our family and friends. After all we've gone through together this is how he announces to the world how little I now mean to him.

I try to control my growing sobs but I can't control my tears and sniffs. Wells' hand is quick to reach my bouncing leg and squeeze. I think of signs that I could've seen showing Peter was detaching from me, but find none. It's as if he flipped a coin and decided our love ran its time. The pain in my gut, in my chest, in my heart, is something I don't know I'll get over. I've never been heartbroken and now I understand why so many of my friends fell victim to depression after a break-up. I don't wish this on anyone because it feels like someone is ripping your lungs out of your chest.

Another mistake I make is looking for the post showing his change of status and opening the comments section. It's too late for our families to be up so there are no comments from them but there are a lot of "Why?", "What happened?", "Hit me up, we need to celebrate!" But the one that hurts me —that shreds the pieces of me that are left— is a comment from Gabe West.

"Your time to shine!" Says the comment that's accompanied by a set of hearts, dreamy eyes, and heart eyes emojis.

Because I hate myself and my peace I scroll down and realize all the posts Peter has made within the past two months or so —or at least the ones where I was included or tagged on— are now gone.

"I hate seeing you like this," Wells puts his hand through my hair and I look up to see we're in line at some fast food. Wells knows me like no one and orders for me while I secretly scroll down my biggest nightmare.

We arrive at my best friend's house in what feels like seconds thanks to his need for speed and this time I don't bother scolding him. Instead, I find myself contemplating death and hoping next time he does crash so I can be taken out of this misery but the intrusive thought dies because I'd never want anything to happen to Wells. Running over Peter, though. Now that sounds fun. Maybe that'd teach him not to cause pain to others.

The next day comes too quickly and I wake up happy. Those first few seconds where you don't know what planet you woke up in are a welcomed distraction and I miss them as soon as they pass.

I jump and my soul jumps higher when I hear the sound of pots and pans. "Rise and shine, butterfly!" The bastard sings and dances around. Wells has a beautiful voice and that's the only reason I tolerate his loudness but the dances are so silly I end up laughing.

Wells pulls me off the bed and gives me the two pots he had in his hands then he bends down to pick some more from the floor.

"Sing and dance with me."

I shake my head but join him anyway and when he starts singing again, I begin singing even louder knowing he hates my voice. In his defense, I do sound like a dying hellhound. Wells and I dance and laugh and sing, and I'm so grateful he's always been there for me. He's my giant teddy bear.

Hours later we've both showered, ate, and got comfortable on the couch set to watch anything that gives me back the energy I had this morning. Fat chance of that, though, because I'm set on causing myself more pain so I turn my phone on after spending the whole morning and part of this afternoon focusing on anything but the device. I turn it on ignoring all the text messages that came up along with the voicemail notifications and run straight to Peter's profile instead. BIG mistake.

The bastard.
The asshole.
The audacity!

He made a post oh so sweet explaining to everyone how aligned we are in his decision.

'Hello family and friends,'  the post reads, 'I'm making this post in hopes to provide some clarity but also ask for your respect toward our privacy. Luke and I have decided to separate but we still love each other and always will. Please give us some time before asking questions; just know that Luke and I wish nothing but great things for each other. We've been friends longer than we've been a couple and I wish Luke' he tagged my name on it, 'all the happiness that someone as wonderful as him deserves.'

I want to crumble my phone to pieces with all the rage inside me. I can't hold myself back and click on the 'message' button and send my lovely husband a piece of my mind. I start typing.

What in the everloving fuck, Peter? We decided to separate? Oh, and don't even get me started on the bullshit about continuing to love each other.

Not once have I talked to Peter this way, but if he's going to be an ass then I don't need to be nice.

How could you make this post without talking to me? How could you tell our family about this? I mean I've always known you're a bit dense and can't identify social clues to save your life, but come on, Peter. This is how you want it all to go down? After everything we've lived? After all I've done for you? You've truly disappointed me and I can't even believe you and the man I married are the same person. I hope you have the life you deserve, my love. I hope you find happiness and joy and all the fucking rainbows and roses you can fit when shove them up your ass... ah, and just in case you didn't catch that social cue, Pete. It. Was. Sar-fucking-casm.

I put my phone down and get up to the bathroom so I can gather my thoughts and maybe cry myself a river.

I don't know how long I stand there with my head down, shoulders stiff, and hands holding me up resting on the sink but I return to Wells' living room ready for another fight if Peter already replied to my message and I find that I'm logged off social media so I put in my email and password.

The username or password you've entered is incorrect. Please try again.

I get the same message over and over. "What the fuck?!" I shout and almost feel Wells flinch.

"Ok, don't be mad," well that's a great fucking start from him. "I read the DM you sent to Peter which made me look at his post, so I decided to change your password and log you off the app. I promise this is for your own good."

I sit there like an idiot looking at my screen hating my best friend but understanding his logic all the same. As much as I want to punch him, he knows me and I know what he did was to protect me. I have to breathe deeply a few times.

And it hasn't even been a week.

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Author's note:  Hello my lovely friends. I have an odd request for you. I'd love to know what things you'd like to see happening in this story, and what you like about it so far.  Feel free to also give me a peace of your mind because I know Peter is getting on your nerves lol