him • lrh { sequel to her } {complete}

him

    Two years and one drunken night later, Luke and I spilt up. He said horrible things just to hurt me, I said even worse. I ended up making up with his best friend, who's name I don't even remember now and probably didn't care about then. It's so scary when you get to the point when, even though you loved that person so much once, all you want to do now is see them in pain. He was obviously shattered when I told him that what'd I had done. To him, to myself, to us. Luke yelled at me in a way he never had before: backed me against a wall and spit venom in my face. I punched him, over and over, begging him to stop screaming, telling him I had already put myself through enough pain.

    Obviously, I moved out not long after. He kept our dog, I wouldn't take that away from him after what I had put him through.

I haven't talked to him in years now, but I've heard about him through the grapevine. Word has it that he wrote an essay for his English class that he later turned into a autobiographical romance novel about a woman he met after me. He's now happily married to her as far as I know. And from the sounds of it, he makes her very happy.

     And I'm not at all surprised.
  If ever there were a man that could      make you happy...

                      it was him.