Page 12 of Breaking Blaze

“What a fucking asshole. I can’t believe what a fucking wanker he is,” Sally cursed, her words slurred from her fourth tequila…after the bottle of wine.

“Careful,” Anna warned, raising a blurry hand. “You’re getting all British in your cursing again. You only go Brit when you’ve had too much to drink.”

Sally cackled, throwing her head back. “Fuck all, you right tosser. I’m only this drunk because I didn’t want you drinking alone. And I knew you’d be getting drunk tonight because that ass guzzler Blaze turned out to be a fucking turd munching, cock sucking, back stabbing manwhore.”

When Sally got going, she really got going.

And Anna couldn’t find a single fault in all she was saying. Blaze was an asshole. A wanker. A backstabbing manwhore. But…he was also the man who’d saved her from bullies when she was seventeen. Who’d taken her to the senior prom with him. Who’d called her every week from Roda, Spain, and sent her letters twice a month no matter what he was doing. He was also the man who’d held her when her mother died, offering his strength when she’d had none. He was the man who’d called her on her shit, making her take chances like the one that had led to her job at Happy Jack’s. He was the man who’d been the heart of her for eight long years…a heart that she’d given to him that first day outside the music building in the eleventh grade. She’d fallen hard for him. So hard that no other man over the years had ever compared.

And until last night, she’d been foolish enough to believe that she’d meant something to him. But the truth was, whatever he’d felt for her over the years had diminished to nothing…while what she’d felt for him had grown to the point that now…she was shattered, demolished, left to rack and ruin of her own making, because she’d trusted him, trusted her stupid hope that he would one day be hers.

“God, Sally, what the hell am I going to do?” Anna cried, grasping her head in her hands, the tears that had long ago dried up began welling again.

Sally dropped her head and stared at Anna, her eyes bright with booze and mischief. She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and tossed it to Anna.

Bracing herself to keep her head from spinning, Anna leaned back against the couch and unfolded the piece of paper, peering down at it. The words were moving on their own. She blinked then blinked again, until they were all in their proper rows.

Anna’s “Fuck You, Blaze” List

Anna snorted. “What’s this, Sally?”

Sally grinned. “That’s what you’re going to do, Anna. You’re gonna tell Blaze to fuck off and you’re going to do it with some class—unlike that whore sucking vag wrangler who wouldn’t know class if it shaved his balls with its teeth.”

“Um….” Anna blinked down at the list again.

Cut him off. No calls. No texts. No house key.

Get that first kiss.

Punch your V card

Shove your happiness in his face until he suffocates on it

“That is a short list,” Anna remarked, reading through it again. Her heart in her throat, she considered what Sally had written. Cut him off. No calls. No texts. No house key. Did that mean completely cutting off all communication with him? But…

No buts! You heard what he said! You’re just an emotional support lump who will never have sex because you’re at his beckon call because he’s the best thing that ever happened to you!

“You don’t need to do a lot, Anna. That man is so far up your ass that once you stop answering him like the over eager puppy he thinks you are, he’s going to come sniffing around, wondering what happened. And then….” Her smile grew to a maniacal width. “Then you tell him to fuck himself in the ass and never talk to you again.”

Anna stared at her friend wondering if she’d finally slipped over the line from sassy drunk to crazy bitch drunk.

“That doesn’t sound all that classy, Sals,” Anna admitted, her head beginning to pound. “Why don’t I just taper off the messages and stuff…like wean him off like a baby cow.”

Do you hear yourself? Wean him? Like you want to be gentle with the man who fucks everything that breathes but says you’re about as appealing as pizza dough?

“No!” she snapped, only realizing seconds later she’d said it aloud.

“Yes!” Sally bellowed happily. “Tease him. Make him think you’re still hanging on his every need. Then, cut him off at the knees. He won’t know what hit him.” Sally slumped down onto the couch next to Anna and rolled her head on her shoulders.

“How ‘bout I just do what I’ve been doing, keeping the texts short, the visits and calls extremely limited, and…. I can change my locks so he can’t just waltz in whenever he fancies it.”

How many times had that happened over the years? Blaze didn’t like closed doors between them, especially when he needed her for something. When he needed a shoulder or a sounding board or a drinking buddy or someone to stroke his ego, he’d come right over without knocking and invaded her space.

You loved it when he invaded your space, especially on those nights he’d pull her into his arms and hold her against him while they watched a movie. Those nights had been what sustained her…even when the next night she knew he’d be embracing someone else.

Shaking herself, she knew she had to take that drastic step; cutting him out of her life would take time because he was so deeply rooted, but it would be easier than ripping him out, leaving herself far more wounded than he was. She’d keep texts short, she’d come up with excuses not to meet up with him, she’d keep calls surface friendly—no deep chats about personal things. And she’d change the locks on the door. Eventually, she’d be untethered from him enough that she could just walk away, maybe even move once her lease was up. Maybe even start dating and getting her V-Card tagged like Sally was so adamant she’d do.

But what about facing him, seeing him in public? She worked where he hung out most nights, how was she supposed to avoid him then?

---