I Can Do Bad All By Myself

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No.

He actually said no.

The impact of just one word, one syllable, hit me with such a force, completely knocking my entire world off its axis. The initial shock of the assault kept me somewhat lucid, a lot longer than expected, but like a latent effect of a substantial concussion, the pain was seeping its way in and causing irreparable damage.

“Well, that sucks,” I managed to croak out, suddenly feeling very lightheaded.

Justin’s mouth was moving and I’m sure he was saying something in response to my statement, but it was unintelligible to me. His voice was muted and in its place was this high-pitched ringing. The combination of events made me feel disjointed and panicky.

I’m going to be sick.

Breathing heavily through my nostrils, trying in vain to combat my nausea, I tore my eyes away from Justin’s hypnotizing lips. Slowly, almost cautiously, I started to back away from him. The heat that radiated off his body was maddening. It rattled my senses and had this unexplainable power of luring me into him, breaking me into a million fragments of hopelessness. It made my unsettled stomach lurch.

I need to sit down before I passed out.

Stumbling backwards, tripping over my feet and not really paying attention to where I was going, I finally met some resistance in my path and collapsed into it. The unknown object groaned loudly as it gave into my weight and the faulty springs beneath me creaked. The smell of leather was everywhere, and I realized that it was the studio couch which happened to catch my fall.

It didn’t take me long after that to give in to my despair. Dropping my head in my hands, I allowed the reality of his words to wash over me and fully sink in.

He really said no.

The corner of my eyes started to prickle, and I could feel something salty and traitorous making its way to the surface. I bit down on my tongue, hoping to distract myself with physical pain to keep the emotional pain at bay.

Don’t do it, Blake, I told myself over and over, sensing Justin’s unwavering stare.

But it was a pointless mantra because one tear managed to slip by me, rolling down my cheek and displaying my grief. As discretely as possible, I reached up and quickly wiped it away. Inwardly, I was cursing myself for being so transparent.

Well, you’re a dumbass! You mean nothing to him, Blake. The fact of the matter is that you never meant anything to him. You were just a pawn in his heartless game. It’s been this way from the beginning. Our entire relationship started out as a business deal. So you need to stop fucking crying over him and get on with it, you weakling.

Pressing my fists against my forehead in frustration, I wanted to beat that nagging voice in my head. It was killing me with its insistent taunting, always pointing out the obvious. It wasn’t like I didn’t know the truth. That I didn’t know that he, that he didn’t love me.

It was that whisper of a reminder that did me in, and before I had a chance to stop it, I lost all control and started to sob.

God damn it! What the fuck was wrong with me? The last thing I wanted to do was show him how weak I was. Sure, he’d crushed me with his honesty, that was true, but the whimpering on the couch like a wounded pup was a little extreme, even for me. I needed to be stronger than this.

Why are you still fucking here, Blake?

If I was smart, I would’ve walked out the door the moment he stopped caring about me. The moment he stopped caring about Jayden. But I stayed and asked questions, seeking answers from the man I was still madly in love with—who didn’t love me—at least not anymore. He stopped loving me the moment he set his eyes on Amber.

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