A Slave to Broken Hearts (A Slave to Love Sequel)

Chapter 63: Aftermath

Katie was exceptionally thoughtful. She also had pretty good foresight. Which is why she had left the light on over the oven for me before she went to work, since she knew she'd be working late tonight at the restaurant and I'd be getting home in the evening to an empty apartment, and this way I wouldn't be coming home to near or complete darkness.

I had yet to move from my spot, sitting against the door of my apartment. My body ached from sitting against the hard ground and even harder door, my head throbbing from crying for who knew how long. But at least I wasn't sitting in the pitch dark.

I had to move. I had to get up and go shower and go to bed. I had to drink some water and eat something. I had to get up. I didn't want to, but I didn't have a choice. At some point, Katie would be home, and she couldn't very well trip over me on her way into the apartment. That wouldn't be a kind way to repay her for leaving the light on for me.

I had to take care of myself. I couldn't deteriorate again. Ace wasn't around to help me anymore if I fell apart again and Lexi would be too busy hunting him down so she could murder him to pick up the slack his absence would create, to fill the space in my life he had carved out.

I had to be good, I had to get through this, I had to keep going, I had to keep myself together, though I wasn't really sure why anymore, not when no one found me worth sticking around for. 

My throat itched and ached as I fought to keep another sob at bay.

Just get up. Just get up, get some water, and go to bed. I didn't need to shower and change, just get up. If I could get up, then maybe the rest would come more easily, and if it didn't, then at least I managed to do one thing. I could do one small thing. Couldn't I? 

Staying put wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't fix this mess. I survived Blade leaving, I could survive this too. My track record for that at least was reliable. I was a pro.

I shifted, stretching my legs out, trying to shake the soreness from my muscles. Mazey lifted her head, eyes barely open, curious but still mostly asleep. Rolling my ankles, I took my time, taking inventory of each stiff body part, because it was an easier pain to understand and face. 

"Dinner?" I asked Mazey, voice hoarse, the word scraping its way out of my dry throat. That perked her up a little, blinking her glazed over eyes at me. 

With whatever last bit of strength I had, I pulled my feet under me, stacking each appendage and limb like a half torn apart Jenga tower, flattening my palms against the door behind me and using it to stand, coming up lopsided and swaying, but succeeding in my task. 

Pain radiated down my lower back to my legs from the unforgiving floor, but I was upright, and so long as I was standing, I could do this. I wasn't sure what time it was or how many hours it had been since I'd eaten, but Mazey needed dinner and I went through the motions of getting her food and changing her water from the day for fresh water too. I could wait. I wasn't that hungry anyway. 

Once she was set up and happily eating, I got myself a glass of water. I didn't want to eat, didn't feel like cooking or hunting through the fridge, but water was easy.

Grab glass.

Fill from the tap.

Drink.

That was only three steps. Simple. And my mouth was so dry. 

My phone went off for the first time all evening and I hurried for it, my aching forgotten. But it was only Aidan, asking if I was busy.

How stupid of me to think he'd call or text me. It had been ages, long enough for the sun to finish setting and darkness to have set in for a while. He was probably long gone by now, though I didn't check out the windows to make sure. Hope was the stupidest, most naïve, and childish thing I'd ever encountered. But I couldn't help it. Maybe I was childish too.

I returned to the sink, staring at the cabinet in front of me as I sipped my water. Maybe I'd been wrong to leave when he'd pushed me away. Maybe I should have stayed, made him listen, forced him to accept my help, begged him until he gave in. Maybe I should have waited with him, maybe he wouldn't have been able to leave if I'd been there to witness it.  

The buzzer for my apartment sounded, loud and jarring and I dropped my glass, falling into the sink and splashing me on impact, but it didn't matter.