T O X I C | ORIGINAL

15

I tapped my feet repeatedly against the floor with anxiety slowly building up inside of me. Elliot and I just had a fight earlier this morning, he left to go get some air and hadn't back ever since. It began to make me worried.

This was actually our first big fight; usually we only had small arguments or slightly heated conversation. But today, we really reached the top. The reason of our fight was kinda stupid, he saw Marcel and I—my best friend, on the street walking out from one coffee shop.

Marcel just got home from New York for a weekend. He lived there with his boyfriend, Tom and he was working as a fashion designer. He asked me to grab some coffee and talked, since it had been a while since the last time we met.

Unfortunately, Elliot saw us and of course, he flipped out. He thought I was cheating on him with Marcel which was impossible.

This was the first time Elliot yelled at me, throwing things across the room, calling me names—basically I had never seen this part of Elliot before.

A loud banging came from our front door. I quickly walked over there to check things out. It was Elliot and he had bloodshot eyes, wobbling steps and he was hiccupping really bad. Oh, he was so drunk.

"Babe?" I called him. "What are you doing?" He threw his keys recklessly to the table right next to the coat hanger. "Here, let me help you,"

"Get off me," He spat bitterly when I was about to give him a hand on walking.

He shuffled himself to the couch and immediately slammed his butt when he made it. I followed him after shutting the door close. I was so heartbroken seeing him to be like this because of me. I sat next to him and tried to reach his hand. His eyes were closed and probably he was trying to endure the painful pounding head.

"Don't fucking touch me," He yanked his hand away.

"Elliot, I'm sorry. How many times do I have to tell you? Marcel is my best friend, he's gay and I would never cheat on you. I love you so much," I began to sob. He stood up with a loud heavy sigh and I grabbed his hand. "Wait, where are you—"

He cut me off rudely with a shocking harsh slap across my cheek.

"I said don't fucking touch me," He yanked his hand off from my loosen grip around his wrist. Then he walked away, like there was nothing happened.

I sat there, comprehending what was going on. I held my cheek with both of my hand with streaming tears down my face. The pain on my cheek was nothing compare to the pain on my chest. The man that I loved and trusted the most just hit me for the first time in our two years of being together.

I began to hysterically cry. I buried my face onto my palms and leaning my elbows on my cheeks as I kept sobbing uncontrollably, letting out my heartbreak and disappointment.

***

I woke up feeling the sun light hit perfectly into my face, penetrating its light from the slightly opened curtain. I rolled over to see Elliot still sleeping beautifully, as always. I sat up and rubbing my eyes, adjusting my sight.

I headed to the bathroom and instantly noticed that my cheek was slightly reddened and swollen from last night. I bit my bottom lip and kept staring at me reflection on the mirror. Claire was right absolutely right; I really did look. . . disheveled.

Walking out from the bathroom, I found shirtless Elliot sat on the side of the bed only with his favorite basketball shorts. "Hey," He looked up at me.

"Morning," I smiled anyway even though everything was still slightly aching.

"Are you okay?" He asked. I shrugged and walked towards him.

"Been better," I bluntly admitted.

"Come here," He pulled my hand so I moved closer to him. "I love you so much, okay? I've never wanted to hurt you in purpose. I don't know what has gotten me last night, I hit you out of the sudden and I really don't know why I hurt you—" He licked his lips, pausing. "—again and again," Then continued.

"Elliot," I pushed some of his long hair that I felt like needed to be cut off and cupped his face. "I love you so much and I know it so well that you do too. I don't know how I still manage to stay, but I believe that we can do this together,"

"That's what I'm trying to say, Chantel," He sighed. "I don't think you should be here with me anymore. I think it's best for both of us to just stop hurting each other,"

I shook my head, "No. We're going to find you the best rehab and I will be there for you until you're completely—"

"Okay," He cut me off.

"Okay?" He nodded. "Okay. I promise I'll be there for you and I promise I'll help you to go through this. I love you so much,"

He smiled and stood up, cupping my face and kissed me gently. I could taste the sweetness of his lips and it made me weaker than ever. "I love you,"