Page 11 of Darkened Promises

I disagree.

SEVEN

MAX

“Yes, Rosy came by yesterday to collect her belongings. She was a bit upset about it, but she mentioned something about needing to get a fresh start and moving.”

The patience I’d gathered to have a conversation with the prick vanishes, and I forget about the sneer pulled across his butt-ugly face.

My mind screeches to a halt.

She…left?

The remains of my heart splinter in my chest, and I work my throat to swallow the thick lump blocking off my air.

Words filter back in, and I blink through the fog

“…pretty angry at you all. It’s not my place, so I didn’t question her any further. Sorry I can’t help. Have a good day.”

Peter shuts the door in my face. The finality of it twists something in my chest, strangling until it snaps. I’m left feeling adrift. Hollow.

Fuck this.

I knew I shouldn’t have let her in, let her settle a piece of herself inside me. We should never have interfered with her job, and I hate that we did that to her. If Rosy left us without even a goodbye though, then she doesn’t care about us. Our relationship wasn’t important enough to talk it out and communicate.

A cold emptiness sweeps through me, blanketing the pain of her betrayal and loss. It squashes the flame burning for her. I spin on my heels and storm back to my car.

Fuck her. Fuck all of this love bullshit.

I’m fine on my own. I don’t need anyone. They all just lie and leave. No one actually cares to stick around, so I’m done.

I’m done trying. I’m done putting myself out there, and I’m done with love. All it ever does is hurt, tearing me down and leaving me in a crumpled heap.

And I can’t do this to myself. I’ve got nothing left to give anymore.

I was the idiot stupid enough to fall in love with the girl who made me feel again. I thought I loved Becka, but her loss was nothing compared to my life without Rosy in it.

My hands thud against the car roof, and my body bows as I choke out a breath from the weight of this grief. Because that’s what this shitty feeling is, I’m mourning the loss of someone no longer in my life.

One that she chose to leave.

And it fucking hurts.

I’m so angry at her, and I hate that I miss her. That I’d give up everything she asked if it meant I’d still be with her now.

Climbing into my car, I pull out my phone and type a message into the group chat.

Me

She’s not here. She’s left us.

Bry

That doesn’t make sense. She wouldn’t leave without saying anything. Not Rosy.

Did you speak to someone? What did they say?

Me