Three?
Really?
When the fuck washehurt?
When the fuck wasshehurt?
“I didn’t forgive him.”
What doesshehave to forgive him for? And if she didn’t forgive him... why did shemeethim?
Why did she sit there andlisten?
Why did she let him explain while I’m still out here trying to stitch myself together, no explanation in sight.
“He was going through something.”
Of course.Hewas going through something.
Well guess what, so wasI. I was going throughhell.
And I didn’t cheat. I didn’t lie. I didn’t use someone else to test the waters of my sexuality.
Hedid.
He decimated every gentle, real thing about our relationship and called it a... mistake? WasIthe lie? Was Aarohi? Where the fuck are my answers?
Everything keeps rattling around in my fucking skull like loose bolts in an engine. I can’t stop hearing it. Her voice. Soft. Careful. Like she knew she was holding a match near gasoline.
I press the heel of my palm against my eye socket, willing the pressure to keep me grounded. But it doesn’t help. Nothing does.
I grip the edge of the bathroom sink and stare down at my own knuckles—white and bloodless from how hard I’m holding on.
And she told me so earnestly. Like she expected I’d be proud. Like she expected a fucking pat on the back for her honesty.
And sure. I was calm.
But now I’m not.
Now, the rage is crawling in. That slow, cold kind. The one that feels like static under your skin. The one that doesn’t scream—it seethes.
He used her. She got humiliated. Fine.
Then what? She foundme. And I fucking worshipped her, didn’t I? Wasn’t our relationship closure enough?
No. Apparently not because nowshewants to get closure fromhim.
What aboutme?
Where’s the apology for me waking up for weeks in a cold bed?
For spiraling so hard I barely got through meetings without wanting to throw a chair through a window?
Where’s the fucking“I’m sorry, Lucian, for making you feel like our whole relationship was a goddamn lie”?
I punch the counter.
Not hard enough to break it. Just enough to hurt. It dulls nothing though.