Worst Timing for Love

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LORI’S POV

This is it. There’s no turning back now.

“So, you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” I growled, all the while imagining I was tearing him apart into pieces.

His jaw hardened and his eyes gave a steely glow hearing my words. A rush of bitterness came through me. Funny to realize even though merely few seconds ago I was thinking of hurting him, now just the thought of him hating me back made me feel empty and sad.

I glared at him in resolute. What’s done is done. I needed to face the truth, no matter how sour it is. I had confronted him; so I have to be prepared for everything that will come out of it.

If only I could be that strong….

Despite his jarring countenance, words that came out of his mouth sounded so pitiful, so miserable.

“Lori, please….”

His voice, his usually confident or seductive voice, wavered. My mouth popped open, forming an ‘o’, along with my eyes.

Is it... Is it possible he's feeling the same way? That despite what he had done, he does love me?

My mind wandered to the still freshly painful event from last night. I was in Jordan’s party. The night getting late, people getting wild. I sat in a booth, drinking my fifth booze and joking with my friends from school. When I looked to my side, I found he had been gone. I glanced around the crowded room sloppily, trying to find his tall form among wasted teenagers. When I didn’t found him, I started climbing upstairs. I checked every room, finding out that they were all occupied. After I said sorry for the tenth time, I came to the last room.

I turned the doorknob, hearing a familiar moan. A dreadful feeling started clutching at my heart. I desperately didn’t want to see what I think I was going to see, but of course curiosity won me over.

On the bed in front of me, under the dim light, my boyfriend of a week knelt naked with a familiar blonde girl’s limbs around his waist. From the time it took them to realize I had been standing there with tear - streaked face all along, they obviously enjoyed the moment too much.

When they finally came out of their lust, I had felt too drained to create a scene; so I just left. I thought I heard him calling after me, maybe even pulling me around or something, but my mind was too hazy, my sight too blurry to comprehend anything.

Everything after that was a vague memory. I strode straight to my car and drove home, didn't give a single glance to curious faces around me. When I got to my house, I threw myself on my soft bed and cried my heart out.

He called me and texted me a thousand times. I watched my phone rang and vibrated like a mad machine for hours with a sick sense of satisfaction, realizing that he was worrying his life quota off on the other side of the line. He was always complaining if I did not answer his call right away. He said it makes him think something extreme is happening to me, like being murdered or a car accident. For a fleeting moment, I thought to really punish him with my death. What would his reaction be if I suddenly disappear from his life soon after he breaks my heart? It 'd be nice to know if only he was haunted by that guilt forever.

The thought creeped me out, but it's also satisfying, and stupid....

My eyes tripped over the pictures plastered all over one of my bedroom walls, the only wall that had been painted lime yellow. He was there helping me painted my room years ago. I remembered the jar of paint that fell down and splattered all over our shirts when he fell down the ladder. We laughed and laughed and laughed like crazy. Suddenly, years of memories about us came rushing into my head.