I dance to the thumping music, throwing myself into it so I don’t have to think, to feel. The pounding bass drowns out even the pounding of my heart. Hands crawl across my curves from all sides, but I close my eyes and ignore them. I just move, just feel the music, the touches, and revel in not being alone.
He left.
It echoes through my heart like an accusation, so I down another drink and dance harder, letting the music conceal my fear and pain.
But then there’s a whistle and a scuffle, and when I open my eyes, I meet Allegra’s gaze. I stare at her. My pulse is pounding from dancing, sweat slicks my body, and I feel the dirty warmth left behind from strangers’ groping hands…and it’s still not enough. One look at her, and it all comes roaring back, and I know no matter what I do, how much I drink, or who I fuck to try and forget…I never will.
How can I forget the one I am destined to be with? How can I forget the feeling of true love?
I can’t, I just have to find a way to survive.
I gulp, stilling my swinging hips as Allegra watches me in concern before leaning in. “Babe, what are you doing here? Everything okay? You look like you’ve been crying.”
I don’t know if it’s the simple question, or if it’s the fact I can see the concern on her face… She genuinely wants to know if I’m okay, but my lip starts to quiver again. Her eyes flicker down to it, and she sighs before grabbing my hand. She leads me from the dance floor and down a hallway to the bathroom, and then she slams the door and locks it behind us to the disgruntled glares of the women there before cupping my cheeks.
“What’s going on, babe? You’ve been off work, and now I see you here looking like this?” she questions.
“He broke up with me,” I whisper pathetically. “Justin died… I, erm…” I shake my head with a bitter laugh, leaning back against the sticky porcelain sink. “He died and Tyler broke up with me, and I just don’t know how to deal with it. I’ve never had my heart broken before,” I admit and meet her kind eyes. “I love him so much, and it hurts so badly. How do I get it to stop? How can I survive this?”
She sighs and hugs me. “Shh, it’s okay. The hurt is good. When the hurt stops, that’s the worst part, because it means it’s truly over and you’re healing. Live in the pain for now, because it means it’s real, it happened. But you will survive, I promise you that, Lex. Hearts heal, sometimes stronger than before, sometimes as thin as paper that’s easily shredded so they have to be protected,” she mutters as if to herself before carrying on. “I’ve been where you are—left, alone, lost, and broken. But it gets better. Each day that passes, it will get easier, but getting drunk and fucking random men won’t help. For the night, you will feel good, but in the daylight, you will be filled with regret and those emotions will still be waiting for you.”
I pull back, and she wipes my tears with some tissue and brushes my hair from my face in an almost motherly way. “You promise…you promise it gets easier?” I whisper.
She nods slowly. “It does, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt right now.” Allegra smiles sadly. “How about we get you home? If you really wanna drink, I’ll do it with you. Hell, we can trash him if you want to. Does he have a small dick? Weird fetishes?” she teases.
I laugh through the tears and wipe my face, stumbling on the ridiculous heels I yanked on earlier without a thought. “No, he has a huge dick and…fuck, he’s amazing. I can’t trash him.”
She sighs. “Too bad. Thin, small dicks are easier to get over.” She winks at me. “It’s always the bastards who can fuck well that ruin us. Let me get us home, and you can tell me everything.”
“Thank you,” I whisper when she wraps her arms around me as sudden exhaustion fills me. Her hug is better than a million touches from strangers. It feels right because she cares, she’s holding me together when I can’t do it myself. Her strength promises me it gets better, even if I can’t see the light right now.
“No thanks needed, babe. We’re friends, you just forgot that for a moment. Life goes on, Lexi, just don’t let it go on for too long without you.”
Life goes on…it’s true.
But how do I move on with a life I no longer want?
Tyler and the life we were building together was what I wanted, and now that I’m back to this emptiness, I know it’s not what I want.
How do I deal with that?
Is this what growing up and getting stronger feels like?
If so, it sucks.
Tyler
She reached for me, tried to hold me, to help me…
I couldn’t.
It hurt too badly to hold and touch the woman I would never have again. The woman whose heart I broke so callously because of my own pain. Seeing her there staggered me because I knew she came for me, not him, and yet again, I treated her like shit.
Maybe it’s for the best, at least now she can move on. She can stop trying to save me.
I down the last of the bottle and fall back to the sofa, staring at the ceiling. I can’t bring myself to go upstairs, to smell her scent, which is diminishing on my sheets. To see my son’s room that he will never use again.
The funeral was horrible, but this moment is even worse. The mourners at the service will move on with their lives—feel sad, then move on—but how do I?
How do I move on from the loss of my child?
From the loss of the love of my life?
I don’t is the simple answer. I need to learn how to live with it, and that’s what I have to do now.
I just don’t know how.
My dad tried to stay. He came to my house after, took one look at it, pulled off his coat, and started tidying up the discarded bottles. He even went shopping for me and fixed the holes in the wall before sitting with me and having a drink. But I couldn’t speak, and he had to go home to his family eventually.
She was my family.
I can’t bring myself to reach out to anyone. Instead, I get drunk and pass out, and when I wake up the next morning, I’m disgusted at what I have become. I force myself to my feet and shower, ignoring the hangover as I get dressed and clean up my mess from last night. Then I sit with a cup of coffee at the table, my fingers catching on a scratch from my and Lexi’s last time together.
I should reach out and apologise. In the bright light of day, I hate what I did to her. I lashed out in pain and grief, not thinking. I just wanted to protect her from the darkness stirring within me. I was caught in a storm of heartbreak, and instead of just feeling it, I took it out on her, but that would ruin the damage I already did. I know I was right, I would destroy her life.
No, it’s better this way.
Even if it hurts, even if I hate the fact that I’m responsible for her tears.
But even after thinking this, I can’t stop myself. A few hours later, I can’t resist, I have to know if she’s okay. I drive to her apartment and just sit outside, stopping myself from going in and begging for her forgiveness. I ache to catch a glimpse of her, to know she’s okay.
That she’s safe.
I know her new door was finally sorted yesterday, so that settles me a bit, but I need to see for myself.