Page 25 of The Girl I Once Loved

They fucking broke up.

How is that even possible?

Fuck.

What did that dipshit Gael do to you, baby, for you to end it with him?

I know it had to be you that called it quits, because no sane man would ever let you go.

Did he not love you enough, little stalker?

Or understand all your awkward quirks and eccentricities?

Did he not make you feel like a goddess amongst men like you deserved?

Did he hurt you, baby?

Did he?

Like I hurt you?

My hands ball into fists at the painful thought, making me hurl my head back onto the headrest. I stay there for what feels like forever, just staring up at the vast moonlit sky, wondering what could have possibly happened for their relationship to come to such an abrupt end.

Gael doesn’t seem the sort to step out on my girl.

I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him at that godforsaken Christmas yacht party that he was one of the good ones—a threat to my heart, if I ever saw one. And from the few photos I let myself see of the happy couple over the years, they were enough to convince me that Gael would never wander or stray from her bed.

Like me, he only had eyes for her.

Not that I was able to stomach seeing more than a few pics of them on Instagram.

Fuck.

I don’t think I’ve logged online since I saw that shit.

But I needed to know if she was happy.

That’s all I needed to see. That someone was loving her, protecting her—cherishing her. Once I was certain that she was in good hands, I didn’t need to see anything else. Especially since I knew what type of pictures would eventually follow up next.

A post revealing them moving in together, a spectacular home with a picket fence in the background.

Another announcing their engagement, a large diamond ring on her slender finger.

A wedding picture, the designer white dress hugging her body, as heart-stoppingly beautiful as she is.

Maybe a sonogram or two, their clasped hands lovingly cradling her bump.

Yeah. My sanity couldn’t take seeing that shit.

Knowing that she found happiness was all I could muster.

I didn’t need that happiness to be shoved down my throat though.

A broken man can only handle so much.

‘Go home, Noah. Don’t pretend you don’t want to. You might not get another chance like this one again.’

Derrick’s words begin to poke holes in my resolve to spend the night on the Royal Shank. I had promised myself that I would make myself scarce while she was back in Thatcher’s Bay, not wanting to make this visit of hers any more difficult for her than it necessarily needs to be.

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