Page 129 of Smut

“You’re right,” she says with a sniff, looking away. “I never gave you my heart.” She shrugs and gives me a sad smile. “It was probably for the best.”

She grabs her purse and starts to head out the door.

I should stop her.

I shouldn’t let her go.

I should make her stay.

There are a lot of things I should do. But all I can feel is my heart dissolving in my chest like someone’s poured a vat of acid over it.

So I watch her go.

“By the way,” she says, pausing before she closes the door. “I may have fed Fluffy and forgot to put the lid back on. Have fun.”

“Argh!” I cry out, immediately feeling like he’s on me already.

The door slams shut behind her.

I can’t believe what just happened.

I’ve lost Amanda.

And Fluffy is somewhere loose in this apartment.

Look at you, you sad arse, I tell myself, trying to steady my nerves and repair my heart all at the same time. I make my way out onto the balcony, the only place in the apartment I figure is safe from the monster, so I can think.

Fuck.

I am an idiot.

And not just for telling her ex about our secret. I seriously regret that now and I was sober enough to know what I was doing. I just got so caught up in the moment, I needed to say something. And she was right. I didn’t need to defend her.

But god it felt good.

Maybe it was my ego talking after all.

I lean back in the chair and look across the harbor. It’s far too beautiful of a day to break up. The clouds need to come in, the rain needs to come down, a cold bitter wind needs to carve right through me, matching how empty I feel inside. Instead, there are birds chirping from the trees and children playing happily on the grass below by the seawall.

I get out my phone and call her.

It goes straight to her voicemail:

“Hi, this is Amanda Newland. I don’t check my voicemails ever, so please hang up and text or email me. If this is a telemarketer or my parents or someone born before 1961, better luck next time.”

I know she doesn’t check these, but I leave a long babbling message, apologizing, and ask her to call me back. Then I call her once more.

Again.

And again.

Text.

Email.

Wait.

Nothing.

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