Page 6 of Love Me Like It's Real
I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want Mark’s shadow to keep haunting me but his betrayal still stings like a motherfucker.
I thought he was the one. I thought he was my Prince Charming on a white horse. I thought he was my forever and he loved me unconditionally.
Instead he turned into the most hateful, toxic person I’d ever met as soon as I came out to him and told him I wanted to live my life as I’ve always felt inside. A man.
Of all the people I’d been afraid to tell about my wanting to transition, he was the last one I was worried about. Heck, I’d been more worried about telling Elsa than her father.
Turns out I didn’t know him as well as I thought. And our love turned to hate. Our story turned into a cautionary tale. And our divorce turned me into a cynic.
How can I write about love after what I’ve been through? How can I write about happily ever afters when I don’t believe in them anymore? How can I write about the perfect partner who fulfills all your needs when I had the perfect partner and he turned out to be a monster?
I sigh, press my lips from side to side and ignore the pinch in my heart.
You can do this, Felix. You can!
My fingers hover over the keyboard and I hold my breath as I typeChapter 1.I hit return and I’m about to start my first sentence when Caspian speaks up.
“Felix? Don’t you have to pick up the girls from school?”
I turn to my friend in a daze. I have no idea what he’s talking about. It’s still only…
Three o’clock?
“Fuck!” I jump up and try to get my shit together but after five coffees and a trip down memory lane I can’t even think straight.
“How much do I—” I start when I’ve pulled myself together but Caspian waves me off.
“Go. Pick up the girls. You can pay me later, doofus.”
And that’s exactly what I do.
Naturally, I’m the last one there.
“You’re late, Poppy,” Arya says.
“I know. I’m sorry sweetheart. I lost track of time.”
Elsa puts her seat belt on and pouts.
“I said I’m sorry,” I tell her.
“Well, you’re still late. So I think you owe me a favor too.”
I raise an eyebrow at my eldest and ignore the traffic monitor circling my car like a hawk. “Oh yeah. Why is that?”
“You abandoned us out here to fend for ourselves.”
Hm. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been pushing my kids to love books so much. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal for a nine-year-old to use the wordsfend for ourselves.
“You weren’t fending for yourselves. Ms. Clark gave you cookies and juice.”
“And do you know how long it took to convince her we were starved and needed nourishment?”
“That’s it. No more books for you missy. From now on you’re only allowed to watchCocomelonand read the occasionalCosmoGirl.”
“Ewww, Pop, I’m not six.” Elsa grimaces.
“What’s wrong with being six?” Arya asks.
