Maelyne's P.O.V
"Maelyne you are a pathetic excuse of a woman. He's not coming back and you just need to accept that and move on." Kamil Rowe sighed in frustration from my doorway, head shaking in disbelief at my depressed state as I laid motionless on the bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.
"Let me mourn my loss in silence. The peace will help me heal." I replied flatly, my expression void of emotion as I tried to not think about him again. Unfortunately it was easier said than done considering the man in question was not just my first love, but also my first heartbreak.
"Loss my ass. That man isn't worth mourning over after all the shit he put you through." Kamil huffed, leaning against the door frame as I bit nervously on my quivering lip.
"I've swallowed my pride and forgiven him a long time ago, I need you do the same. Leave what's a part of the past, in the past. Don't you agree that he deserves at least that much? " I scoffed, grabbing the pillow to my right and hugging it against my chest. Inhaling the scent of apple cinnamon aftershave that he left on the cushion the night before his arrest.
"No, what he deserves is a good beat down for pushing you down the stairs and then walking out on you." Kamil said, shaking an admonishing finger.
"He didn't walk out on me. He went to get help. Besides, he didn't actually push me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and I accidentally tripped down the stairs because I was clumsy." I explained, looking down at the pillow and busying myself by picking at the invisible lint on it.
"Bullshit. He slapped you then shoved you down them when you tried to fight back. I saw the hand print on your cheek he gave you that night. The clumsy excuse was something he fed to you in the hospital when you were threatening to report him." Kamil stated, pushing off the door frame and placing her hands on her hips. Reminding me of the days when her mother would come into her room and scold us nearly an hour for being too rowdy on a school night. Now it was like the tables were turned with Kamil being the mother and I the child that couldn't quite keep the noise down. Figures.
"He is in anger management therapy, what more can you possibly want from him?" I asked, letting go of my pillow and throwing my hands up in the air in irritation with heavy sigh.
"I want him behind bars for trying to kill you, not in therapy where he still has access to your doorstep. He's a menace and should be treated as one. Why don't you see that him hitting you he was wrong?" Kamil huffed, slapping her hand against the door frame to prove her point.
I winced, hating the fact that she was right but hating myself more for not being able to admit it.
"Jaxton knows what he did was a mistake and he apologized for it. Besides, even if he wanted to hurt me again he couldn't with the restraining order hovering above my head." I said, swallowing down the guilt of having signed the restraining order paper. The paper my friend Kamil requested and forced me to agree to despite my hesitation. I loved Jaxton. Still do and yet I had done what he'd done to me. I took that same proverbial knife he put in my back and stabbed him right back in the back with it when he had trusted me. The only difference was that I had felt sorry for what I did while he, he just felt indifferent for his actions.
No apologies. No tears. Just a wicked smile he flashed me when the judge claimed him not guilty on the side of attempted murder, but sentenced to jail time for domestic violence. Injustice at it's best, but I have no one to blame but myself for not being completely honest to court. Honest to myself actually.
"Men like Jaxton don't give up easily. He will be back for you Mae. One day he will come to the door giving you empty words and promises, showering you with luxurious gifts and loving kisses and then he will turn on you again. Manipulating you as he beats you behind closed doors, law be damned. That man is obsessive, with a twinge of borderline psycho in his blood and because of him your life has been one screwed up situation after another." Kamil said, lifting a hand and pinching the bridge of her nose as a headache started to form. This was the normal routine for us whenever we fought. Our disputes usually ending with Kamil getting a headache and being pissy all day while I mopped and cried in my room like a lovesick hormonal girl. Or at least that's what she said I looked like.
