Page 39 of Cole (Dirty Misfits MC 4)
And as silent tears dripped down my cheeks, my neighbors yelled at me to shut up.
So, that was exactly what I did.
I sulked inside and closed the door behind me. I locked all of them so he couldn’t turn back around and burst in on me without someone hearing and calling the cops. Then, I stripped my clothes off, leaving a trail from my small-ass living room to the door of my bathroom. I watched myself in the small, rectangular bathroom mirror as tears dripped down my cheeks. And as those tears carried the weight of my makeup, I made myself a vow that I refused to break as long as I lived.
“No more men,” I whispered to myself.
I didn’t have the stomach. I didn’t have the strength. I didn’t have the patience to be whiplashed like that just because some dude was that desperate to get his dick wet. I started the hottest shower I could stand and slid inside, sitting down at the bottom beneath the heavy stream of water.
And as I pulled my knees up against my chest, I cried against them.
I didn’t just cry for Cole, though. I cried for all of the pain I had held onto for so long. I cried for my childhood. I cried for my broken heart. I cried for a body that would long for a man that didn’t want me anymore. I cried for my father, and the bullshit I had to endure with him. I cried for my mother, and the painful death she experienced at the hands of her cancer. I cried for the loneliness that always reared its head in the worst of ways.
And I cried as I fought the want to backslide into my self-harming tendencies.
“No, you can’t,” I whispered as I rocked back and forth. “You can’t. Not this time. You’re better than this.”
My heart desperately wanted to know what happened. My brain wanted to know what I had done wrong to push Cole away. But my soul knew the truth. My soul knew that it wasn’t me, but it really was actually him.
For once, the cliche was accurate.
I laid down at the bottom of the tub, allowing the heat and the steam to cleanse my body. Snot dripped from my nose as I shivered with my sobs, allowing them to pour forth like never before. If I was going to have a clear head to take care of the kiddos tomorrow, then I had to get it out. I couldn't be focused on anything but their well-being, so I allowed myself to focus on my pain.
On my brokenness.
On the fact that I had fallen heavily for Cole in such a short span of time.
“I was just a piece of ass to him,” I choked out breathlessly.
I’d never felt so useless and so disgusting in all of my life, and I knew then and there it would take more than a shower for all of this to go away. I knew one thing for certain, too. I knew I couldn't stay in my apartment. So, I pulled myself up onto my feet, washed myself down, and after I dried off I practically leapt into some clothes and reached beneath my bed for a bag I always kept packed in case of emergencies with the kids.
Then, I started out of my apartment and headed for their house.
Me: Hey there, Sunny. I’m headed to the house for the evening. I need some time away from my own place. So, if you want to take the evening off, I’ll be around.
After shooting off a text to the night nanny, I crossed town to treat myself to my favorite splurge restaurant. It was one of the trashiest joints in town to go inside and sit down in, but their food was absolutely amazing. It was greasy and jam-packed with calories that no one needed, and it was the best kind of comfort food in town.
So, I ordered myself a large bacon cheese fry, a large banana mocha milkshake, a cinnamon roll, and a personal pan pizza. Before I headed to spend the evening somewhere else other than my own place.
A place that was permanently marked with a man that wanted nothing than the sex I could provide.
“Fucking piece of shit bastard,” I murmured.
And I hoped a night of unhealthy food, lounging in the moonlight, and crying in the hot tub would help cleanse my body and mind of him before the kiddos got up in the morning.
If anything, so I could continue on with my life the way I saw fit.
Nineteen
Cole
To this day, I was unsure of how long I sat there. But as I straddled my bike and listened to Molly mutedly curse me up and down as she walked upstairs toward her apartment, my heart shattered. I never understood what people meant by that phrase, like the heart was made out of glass or something like that. I never understood why people said their heart broke. What did that even mean? Did their heart sever? Did it start bleeding everywhere? What kind of pain would that be like? How would the body even feel something like that?
