He looks away for a moment, as if he’s ashamed he would do something like this without my consent. “I don’t know what else to do here, Trixie. You’re miserable and severely depressed, and I only want to help.”
My grip on the rage only tightens, because it’s all I have left, as I say, “You want to help? Then leave me the fuck alone.” Tossing my napkin down onto the full plate of food, I get up, as he does the same.
“I have left you alone, and now, look at what’s happened. You’re going through something terrible, and I just want you to talk about it.”
Turning around, I scream, “I don’t want your fucking help! I just want to be left the fuck alone.” Heaving in a deep breath, I ignore the pain in my chest, as his eyes widen. “I don’t need you or anyone else telling me what I need to do, Sebastian.” Neither one of us says a word for a few moments, and with each unspoken word, I feel myself falling deeper and deeper into the black hole of despair.
“I lost the baby, too,” he finally whispers, and I can’t listen to him. I can’t fucking bear to hear how much he’s hurting, or how much this is affecting him, too.
If I do, then I have to acknowledge my own pain, and I’m not ready to face it.
“No, just fucking no,” I snap, and then turn around, heading towards our bedroom.
“We have to talk about it, Trixie. I know it hurts, but we need to talk about the baby.”
I don’t say anything back, because I physically can’t. My throat is burning, as my tears begin to flow freely down my face. It’s a wonder I actually make it to the room without running into a damn wall, since I can’t see a damn thing with my blurry vision.
However, I do make it, but I don’t know why I thought our bedroom would be my escape from him, since he’s right on my heels. When he grabs my hand, I do stop, only for a moment. His touch used to bring out so many sensations, and I loved every single one of them.
But now, it’s just a reminder that I’ll never be the same.
Jerking my hand out of his, I look him in the eyes, as I admit, “I can’t do this anymore.” He frowns, and I know he’s waiting for more. Sucking in a deep breath, I know the only way he’ll let me go is to tell him the truth that I’ve been hiding.
“You’re just a daily reminder of what I’ve lost, and I just can’t do it anymore.”
I don’t know if it’s the tone of my voice, or maybe, it’s just what I said that does what I intended. I hurt him, and I instantly notice the change in him. His entire body tenses, as his eyes grow cold, and then he claims, “Then fucking leave.”
Fear rushes through me, but only for a moment, as I realize what I’ve done. No matter how much I still love him, I can’t keep doing this to him. The thing is, I don’t know how to stop, so I give him one final glance, and then walk out of the room.
He doesn’t bother to stop me.
Not even, as I walk right out the front door, and then out of his life.
I tell myself it’s better this way, but really, it just makes the sorrow even more present than it was before. There are certain situations that people can’t come back from. Those moments take away part of your soul, and without that vital piece, you can never come back. That’s how I feel, and now that I walked out on him, I left the last part of me with him.
Six months later
Staring at the computer screen at my desk, I read over the email a new client sent me. I always thought I wouldn’t be cut out for a desk job, but for the past six months, I’ve adjusted pretty well at the accountant position. Granted, my dad had to call in a few favors to get me this position, but in the end, it’s been a good distraction.
My days are filled with long and boring tasks, instead of naked women, dancing on a stage. It’s a drastic change, but I know I needed this. I needed something different to keep my mind from thinking about things of the past.
Or more importantly, from a man of my past.
Sighing deeply, I respond to the long and boring email, hoping to ease the client’s worries. That’s what my job consists of the most, reassuring people about their money day in and day out.
As my desk phone rings, I mindlessly reach over and answer it. “Beatrice Harrington, speaking. How may I help you?”
“God, that never gets old,” Ava says with a laugh.
“Trust me, I know, but it is my name, so I have no choice, but to use it.” All my reservations, about my given name, apparently don’t matter anymore, now that I’ve started over with my new life.
As much as I tried to leave all my past in the past, Ava can’t seem to let go. I don’t mind, since she’s still my best friend. Kendra, however, wasn’t exactly on board with me moving to Chicago and starting over. Her exact words were, “You’re a fucking idiot, Trixie, and I hate you for leaving.” I know she didn’t really mean that, but I know she’s still upset I left without saying goodbye. Ava was a bit more forgiving, given the circumstances.
“How are you doing?” She asks, and my stomach instantly clenches.
“I’m fine,” I answer without any hesitation whatsoever.
Ava sighs, and I know she doesn’t believe me. “Trixie, you know you can talk to me about
