Thirty One: In Which He's Left With A Gaping Hole In His Heart

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[ J A X ' S P O V ]

She's gone by the time I wake up.

    I turn to my side so I can slide my arm around her waist but my hand comes in contact with nothing. My eyes flutter open and my heart immediately crumbles when I realize she's not there anymore. The only thing left of her is the impression of her body on her pillow and her side of the bed.

    No.

    No no no no no. She can't do this to me.

    "Blaire?" I call out her name. When silence greets me back, I say it again. "Blaire?"

    I throw the sheets aside and hop off the bed, and then check her room. The first place I go is the bathroom. My stomach drops when I see that it's empty.

    Fuck.

    I rush out of her room and check mine.

    Empty.

    Then, sprint downstairs to inspect the living room, kitchen and guest rooms.

    Nothing.

    Panic starts to swell inside of me. I storm back up and search her room again, desperately clinging unto the last ember of hope that she didn't just leave me without saying goodbye and she didn't walk over to the police station to turn herself in.

    But as every second passes by when I don't see her, the hope starts to die off. I fall unto my knees and let out the most agonizing sound I've ever made in my entire life, pain seizing and invading me everywhere. I clench my fists and slam the floor repeatedly, one after another, desperately trying to get rid overwhelming ache and torment of having the love of my life walk away from me.

    Tears swim in my eyes and fall unto my cheeks, then unto the floor. My eyes are swelling and clouding with tears that I can't see anymore. I'm in so much pain, so much goddamned suffering that I can't breathe anymore, my throat is closing up and I'm inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling as much as I can but my lungs can't give and take anymore and I feel like I'm slowly, slowly losing air, slowly fucking dying.

    God, it hurts, it hurts so much...

    I knew that she had to leave today. I knew at some point when I closed my eyes last night, there was a slim chance she'll slip away from me, but fuck me, I didn't know she would actually do it.

     I was foolish to think there was a chance she'll stay—that she'll nudge me awake and greet me with that beautiful smile of hers and we'll make love again and she'll make me sandwiches and she'll put on that bodyguard uniform and bring me to work and we'll walk off to the fucking sunset together like we're supposed to.

    Fuck. This is so fucked up. This is not how it was supposed to turn out. How did love end up with her leaving me with nothing but a broken heart and a broken soul? How did love end up with me bawling my eyes out like a fucking baby on the foot of her bed, trying to cling unto the last shred of my sanity?

    How how how?

    I slam both of my fists down again, and blood starts to pool around my skin but I don't care, I don't care, I don't care anymore. I murder the floor with my fists because I'm so numb from the pain that it doesn't matter anymore and because the pain is the only thing keeping me together, the only thing keeping me from falling apart at the seams.

    I'm choking on my own sobs and when the last ounce of energy leaves me, I hit the floor one last time before slumping down unto it. I've never looked and feel more pathetic than I do now and if I were the old me right now, I'd stand by the sidelines and laugh at the new me for being this weak just because a stupid girl left him.

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