It’s cost me far more than any high is worth.
And it’s past time that I remember how to kick…
After draining some of the iced whiskey I helped myself to from one of Roman’s crystal tumblers, I dive in the pool and emerge in the muggy night, the moon half-lit as I take a few laps around loving the feel of the warm water on my skin as I work out some of my aggression.
Frustration runs front and center as I exhaust myself, trying to come up with any reason at all why they would take such great care to disappear. The deceit, the humiliation, I’ve made a fool of myself over two men who haven’t bothered to show up for me in endless months.
And for what? The high?
Now all I feel is the crash, the inevitable burn. I tried for the last few months to convince myself that I was moving on, but in truth, I’ve been waiting.
I will no longer lie to myself, and I can’t keep loving in vain.
Neither of the men I’d pledged my heart to have stepped out of the shadows to claim me.
I was delusional to believe that I had a future with either of them.
How strong could any of their feelings truly be with so much deception between us? What we had was beautiful in my eyes, but over time has been painfully proven to be one-sided.
It’s been a little over eight months since I danced with Sean in the street. Months in which I’ve attempted to live normally. In hindsight, it had felt so real. That’s what kept me hanging on.
But that’s what addicts do, they deny the problem and coat it with excuses. And it’s up to me to save myself.
So, I’m done.
I’m done with my unhealthy fixation on the two men who are undeserving of eight months of
unreciprocated devotion. I no longer want to understand their motives or the cruel reasoning for their absence.
At this point, I just want to snap the thread and free myself of the burn of being in unrequited love.
Exhausted from my workout and lulled by the whiskey, I step out of the pool and under the outdoor shower to rinse the chlorine from my hair. Towel wrapped around me, I head upstairs and am halfway up when I sense that I’m not alone.
Annoyed, I round the corner to see Tobias flipping through the book on my nightstand. He’s dressed in a suit, his tie loose around his collar, his hair perfectly combed back. I bypass him and drop my towel, heading toward my dresser to pull out some shorts and a T-shirt. I stop my hand in my dresser when I feel his gaze on me.
“Are you here on business, or is this about my punishment?”
He snaps the book closed. “You got the answers you expected. They made their decision.”
And it wasn’t me.
Acceptance. That’s one of the five steps of grief, right? And so, I don’t let the sting of his words penetrate my hardening heart. Instead, I search my drawers for clothes.
Seconds pass, and he stands mute, but I can feel his steady gaze.
Intent on nullifying his attempt at intimidation, I turn to face him and untie my bikini top before I let it fall away. The same top he held hostage to humiliate me the day we met.
“Anything else? Another lecture about peas, or pawns?” I stand, nipples drawing tight, water trickling from my skin and suit collecting at my feet on the carpet. He stands at the edge of my bed, seemingly unfazed by my nudity and brazen attitude before I slowly untie the bow at each of my hips, letting the material fall to my feet. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen, but I can see the surprise light up his eyes with the lift of my chin when I face him fully exposed. I refuse to let him bully me any longer.
It’s time to snap the thread.
He ogles my naked flesh, his jaw tensing as he gauges the war I’m waging.
“I know who you are,” he finally speaks, his voice tinged with the warning dancing in his eyes.
“Do you?” I challenge. “I don’t think so.”
He takes a step toward me, and I refuse to flinch. The air thickens as he unapologetically traces the hard lines and curves of my body with hungry eyes. The draw becoming harder to ignore the closer he becomes.