Scarring.
Not yet healed.
Fueling this hatred that has kept my head above water for three long years.
Three years where I went through all the emotions. From heartbreak, abandonment, denial, anger, and finally, acceptance.
Acceptance that I wouldn’t be able to fully move on until he felt the same way he made me feel.
Small.
Betrayed.
Hurt.
I don’t remember exactly when I fell in love with Sebastian Kenton. There were many instances when it could’ve happened, but I do remember when I fell in hate with him.
When he shattered me into a million tiny pieces while a crowd of strangers witnessed my pain and shame.
Yes…I remember exactly when he went from the man of my dreams to the vicious monster that was hiding underneath, ready for me to fall so he could sink his sharp teeth into my heart and make me bleed.
Bleed for sins that weren’t mine to atone for.
The worst part is that the son of a bitch broke me. He broke me to the point I don’t care for anything or anyone else. He made a broken heart fall for him and turned the purest of loves into the most vicious hate.
Ruining me for all men because the matter of the fact is I don’t see myself falling for anyone ever again. I refuse to give someone the power to end me once and for all.
What my father couldn’t do in eighteen years, Sebastian did in a day.
In one moment.
He ended me, but from that pain, I was born again.
And here I am.
Older, wiser, and so very angry.
He got to move on with his life as if I never existed and never mattered.
While I was choking on my own tears, mourning their loss, he carried on with his life and all his plans until he made them all happen.
Once the Senator of Chicago, now the Commander-in-Chief. The highest power in the land.
Smiling and promising shit to keep the country eating from the palm of his hand.
Young men aspire to be like him when they grow older.
Young girls swoon over the most handsome president this country ever had—their words, not mine.
Older men kiss his ass as if he’s God himself, and don’t get me started on the older women and how they view him.
It’s nauseating, really.
If only they knew the real Sebastian Kenton. They wouldn’t idolize the man so much.
Or maybe they would since this world has gone to hell.
The door of my office closing loudly snaps me out of my thoughts. Sighing. “Haven’t I told you that you need to knock before entering?”