When did this happen? When did my feelings spill beyond friendship this badly?

I’ve seen him with other women …

He’s always been this way, when did I start reacting like this? Breaking my heart over him being his Casanova self.

“Tell the others, after I’m gone, I had to go away for a couple of days.” He’s picking up his suitcase, his body stiff with tension and the hatred oozing between us is unbearable.

“What reason shall I give?” I sound alien. This fake politeness between us, thick in the stifling air. We’re both exceptionally good at cold and polite.

“I don’t give a shit, Emma … The truth for all I care.” He flexes his eyebrows sardonically.

That was a blow … it hurt; it knocked the wind out of my sails. I move back as he stalks out with suitcase in hand, he slides his shades on, despite it being duller in here and he doesn’t even look at me; he seems beyond pissed.

Should I follow him? Should I stay here?

Stop hovering, Emma, it’s pathetic.

in the blink of an eye, obviously determined to leave. I hesitate and follow,

them from view and suddenly I want him to slide his glasses over my eyes, the way he always does. I want him to brush my hair back and take care of me. I want the Jake I know

him near the rear of

it’s not a ruse. He really

run after him, but I’m rooted to the spot as I watch him descend into the waiting boat. I can’t bear to see him leave, so I turn on my heel and run back to my room at full speed. I run like my ass is on fire and don’t stop until I slam down onto my bed and sob every bottled up, deep wracking emotion, right up from

a damn has opened and the floodgates break. Everything I’ve ever held back slips out with the pain I’ve always avoided. I

Jake’s breaking my heart.

***

numb. As sensation as though I’m floating on the ocean directly, but I’m still laid on my bed. It’s night and dark… I haven’t left, and

so much … doubt … insecurity … pain. I haven’t sobbed properly since I was five years old; back then I didn’t cry over heartache, I only knew the tears from physical pain

ever experienced, it leads to breaking down over the way my life has turned out. The way I am. I think of my mother and wonder

she break this way over Ray Vanquis

her kind of heartache. Ray inflicted more than heartbreak

thought of that

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