Dear Ex-Girlfriend (Lesbian, Girlxgirl, Gay)

Chapter 21. Point

Chapter21. Point

I was sick. Dying. The doctors told me I wouldn't live that long. Maybe just a couple of days left.

It came as a shock. There were no precursors to it. Suddenly, I was out of breath, couldn't sleep, shaking, devoid of appetite, pale, and most importantly, in pain. All the classic signs in Webmd that I was about to keel over and die soon. I told dad that, except maybe he had a different opinion.

"Get up and go to school. It's almost eight."

"No. I'm dying."

A sigh from him. This exchange has gone on for ten minutes or so. He should probably go to his shop and leave me alone. If only he wasn't stubborn. "You're not dying, Destiny."

"I'm immortal then?"

He rolled his eyes. "Of course not. But you're not going to skip school either." His eyes flitted to my messy room. "Is this part of the teenager stuff you told me about yesterday? Part of the you hate the world and everything?" He made quotation marks in the air before staring at me. He looked tired and confused. Same as me. "Believe me, I've been there."

That made me laugh real hard.

"See? You're not sick or dying," he accused.

I continued laughing. The sound started high and bubbly. It made him smile too. And then something broke. Something I couldn't quite latch my fingers on. The high turned to low. The bubbly to choking.

Dad rushed to my bed, and for some reason embraced me. I didn't want to be touched by him or anyone. I wanted Genesis.

"I'm sorry." He rocked us back and forth, but the tears kept coming. They wouldn't stop. "I was wrong to assume. Did something happen?"

"I'm dying," I rasped. "I'm dying, daddy."

"Aww, honey. . ." His hold on me tightened. "Did someone break your heart? Did—" He shook his head and continued hugging me.

I didn't say anything. He could have taken that as a yes.

Eventually, he leaned back and wiped the tears on my cheek. His own eyes were red. "It gets easier," he murmured. "You get stronger. You live your life. Then you move on."

"You don't know what you're talking about, dad."

"I know more than you do." He stood and breathed out. He looked twice as tired than before. "I've had my fair share of heartbreaks before your mom and I got married."

I looked at him quizzically. "I thought mom was your first and last."

"I never said she isn't." He turned around to face the door, but I could see the ghost of a smile playing on his cheek. "Only your biggest love can be your biggest heartbreak. That's when you know that it's true." He started for the exit. "I'll call your school to tell them you have a fever. Breakfast is on the table in case you're hungry."

He left for work after that without so much as a goodbye. He wanted to give me space. Something I needed.

I stayed in bed most of the day, dizzy, thirsty, staring at the wall. What was wrong with me? Since yesterday, since I saw them—

I covered my head with a pillow, but the flashbacks still came. Her. Him. Them. What were they doing? Did he actually had his. . . Did she actually enjoy it?

Her moans filtered my ears, low, needy, torturing. I rolled over the bed and twisted the covers on me. Beads of sweat trickled down my throat. It was so uncomfortable. I wanted to scream. Why? Why?

"WHY, GODDAMMIT?!"

Why did it hurt?

It was afternoon when my eyes opened next. The room was bathed in orange, but despite that, the fall weather made it chilly inside.