There is carelessness with people's actions and precise precision in their speaking.
This lesson was imparted upon me when I caught my boyfriend of three years cheating on me with a random woman at his shop.
It was his actions that stole my voice a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Content Warning: Fade to black sex scene with other man
I find myself standing outside of Inkubus again, staring around blankly, suddenly unsure of my place in the world.
Where did the man I'd fallen so ridiculously in love with go? Because that wasn't him. That person in there, the one who so viciously tore my heart out without thought, that's a stranger to me.
There's nothing left of the man I knew.
A soft hand touches my arm, and I flinch away, the contact making my skin crawl.
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "Is there anything I can do to help you?"
"Go back in time and not fuck my boyfriend," I snap before wincing and wiping my hands across my face. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. It's not your fault."
"Please don't apologize to me. I just want to make sure you get somewhere safe."
I glance over at her before looking away just as quickly, unable to stand the sight of her for long. "No offense, but I don't want to hang out with you. Under other circumstances, I think you'd be fine, but...no."
"I understand, but I don't think you should be driving right now," she says gently.
"Why? I'm fine."
"You're still crying, sweets."
My hands lift to my face, and I stare down at the glistening skin of my palms as I pull them away.
Well, I suppose I am.
My chest aches, missing the organ that's usually in its place, keeping me alive.
I don't want to remember. Not right now. I just want this nightmare to go away. I want to shove it out of my head and forget for one fucking night.
Lifting my face, I gaze down the sidewalk and see the neon sign for the bar in the distance.
Perfect.
"If you really want to help, give me a ride," I demand.
"Of course."
Thankfully, the ride to the bar was short because my skin tightened the longer I had to be in her vicinity.
"Thanks for the ride," I mumble, shutting the door behind me after I climb out.
The soles of my sneakers slap against the concrete as I make my way to the door of the bar, the raucous sounds from inside luring me in with the promise of sweet oblivion.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow is soon enough to let in the pain I'm working so viciously to keep out.
I shove my way through the crowd of people who tower over me in various stages of drunkenness until I'm able to find a space at the bar counter.
