I’m lying in a heap on the bed, numb from endless sobbing and wracking pain. I don’t know how long I’ve been lying listening to my own blood rush through my head as my heart self-implodes inside my body. I’m nothing but a shell, a quiet empty shell of exhaustion and heartache, rumpled beyond recognition.
I lashed out, hit at him, and shoved him away with every ounce of strength I possessed, yet still he tried to cling to me.
My Jake, my body, and soul. Now the destroyer of everything that I was.
I told him not to touch me, to never touch me again, to leave, and to go away. I screamed and cried and fell to pieces on the floor at his feet. His words tumbling around me like noise that I couldn’t understand, so consumed by my grief. It’s only when I whimpered and begged that he leave me alone he finally listened; moving away so I could find my way to my feet, running into the solitude of this room … our room. His room. Shutting him out and locking him away. I can’t bare for him to be near me, to touch me, or look at me anymore.
What we are is lost; his betrayal sealed our fate and my world has been ripped apart with such devastation. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again. All I can think about, is his mouth against hers, over and over, and it rips through my heart. Kissing the mouth of the one woman in the world I hate beyond compare. He has no clue of the depth and damage cheating with her has done. He has no idea how deep his betrayal has wounded me.
He kissed someone else. Not just anyone else, but her, the object of all my hatred and pain for the last few months.
The woman who possessed his heart once upon a time, the only other woman who has been loved by him, and now carries his child.
Marissa Hartley.
How can I ever get beyond this or believe that his feelings for her are as clear cut as I thought?
Her name is like a dagger in my chest, a wound so unbearable burning and searing, making sure I never recover from the fatal blow.
Why, Jake? … Why? Because you were so sure of my readiness to betray you? Fueled by insecurity because of my refusal to start a home with you or answer your proposal?
Fueled by my stupidity in making you believe I would betray you so readily over a fight.
Were we so fragile that something this stupid has ripped us in two?
There’s a light chap on the door, my breath halts, and my pulse stops. His closeness still affecting me, even at a distance, my body feels him in the air and trembles.
“Emma?” Jake’s voice, hoarse and raw, causes a sharp pain in my chest. I slide onto my side to blot him out, covering my ears, curling into a ball with a fresh wave of unbearable aching inside of me, silent tears pouring down my face. I just want this pain to stop devouring me.
“Emma, please? … Let me in.” He pleads, his voice as far away from my Jake as it could possibly be, different to how he normally sounds, crushing my soul. I’m so far away from myself, I fear I’ll never find my way back. I close my eyes tight, screwing them hard, willing him to leave. My voice wouldn’t come even if I wanted it to. It’s so raw and painful making it too hard to swallow, aftereffects from the wailing of a desperate woman.
There’s a gentle thud against the door, it creaks with the pressure of human weight, a noise of something heavy and soft sliding down the other side slowly.
“I’m not going anywhere, neonata. I’m staying right here until you let me see you. I need to see you, Emma … I’m going insane out here.” The sadness in his tone makes me ache. He sounds as broken as I feel. His normally low husky tone is strained and hoarse; emotion breaking with every agonizing word.
He left me until I became quiet, but I can’t lock him out forever. This is his apartment … his home. Not mine anymore. I need to get up, take everything I own, and leave him; he’s left me no choice but to go. There’s nothing here for us anymore.
Fresh waves of devastation hit me, causing me to break the silence with a sob. I can’t begin to think about leaving him, not yet, not while my body wants to lie here and die. The pain is so all encompassing I can barely breathe.
“Please … Please, bambino. It’s killing me staying out here listening to you cry. Let me in. Let me hold you.” His voice breaks; the pain too much. I can imagine him slumped against the door, his knees up, and arms around his shoulders, maybe cradling his head, as broken and as crumpled as me. I try to shake the image of him from my mind, tears consuming me; the thought hurts me more than I can imagine. I can’t bear for him to be as broken as me, to be aching in agony outside his own door.
I’m drowning in confusion. I can’t endure the pain of letting him close. The thought of his touch brings the flash of a vision into my head of him and her, him touching her, his focus on her eyes, kissing her. It slices through me like a hot poker and tortures me to my core.
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