17 Missed Calls

↠74↞ Her wish

When this chapter was published, this story had 50K reads.

↠74↞

Her wish

𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓵

When the door in front of me closes loudly, the whole world stops spinning.

Davina left.

She was so infuriated, disappointed and disgusted that it made me want to look away. I was embarrassed.

I glance down at the small box in my hands. My chest feels heavy like lead. With Davina's words still ringing in my ears, I lift the lid up and read her wish off the tiny piece of paper.

‘I want a chance.’

Tears prick my eyes. My mouth presses into a hard line, my chin begins to tremble and my stomach twists painfully.

Regardless of everything that I’ve done to her, all the ways in which I’ve hurt her and humiliated her, she still wanted me.

Wanted. Because she doesn’t anymore. This thought is so dejecting and heart-rending that it makes me feel the kind of sorrow I’ve been trying to avoid my whole life.

I’ve tried so badly to steer clear of any attachment, never let any girl near me for a prolonged amount of time. They might have needed it, and sometimes I found myself wanting more than just one night, too, but I knew that that’s exactly where it would have led me — to this moment; standing here, with my heart awfully aching and my eyes oozing tears.

As the pain roots deeper in my stomach, so does the anger. I’ve ruined the best thing that has ever happened to me. Davina might have never been a saint, but neither have I been one. I made her go through a lot of pain, deprived her of the only person that she truly loved, and all of this just so I wouldn’t be alone in my misery. Just so I could have fun and let her be a highlight of my days.

And then as I’ve had it, my entertainment, the highlights surprisingly didn’t fade away as they usually did with any other girl. The brightness that Davina brought into my dark days got only stronger, megawatt, almost as if she was an everlasting firework.

And then I fell in love with her.

I fell in love. I repeat it in my mind, tasting these words — a new flavour that should be sweet but the words are bitter, inert on my tongue as I've got no intentions of saying them out loud. Not when she hates me. Not when I know how much my bed activities must have hurt her.

These thoughts irritate me, make me feel angrier with every second that ticks on by. She wants a chance, something I’m not sure I’m ready for, but it doesn’t matter now because I’ve ruined it.

I close the box that I gave her for her birthday and clasp my fingers tightly around it. My lungs feel concrete-heavy and steam-room hot. My head hurts from the amount of guilt that thunders through my veins.

I want to punch someone. Again. Just like the old days in college. But I can’t. Once I get out there and find a stranger to defuse my anger on, it’s going to trigger me. I’ll want to do it on the daily, and I can’t risk anyone seeing me. I'd be dismissed from uni. I can’t go back up to my room either and fuck that girl, not after Davina found out about it.

I let a frustrated groan out and feeling helpless, I hurl the small box across the foyer. It hits the shiny floor. I watch it break into two pieces — the lid slides into one direction, the bottom bit into another one, the little note with Davina’s birthday wish lands somewhere in between these two.