I could tell by the way Cheryl kept away from me that she thought I was pulling some sort of trick on her. She must have thought that I broke down crying so that she'd feel it a necessary obligatory to aid me and soothe my frantic nerves.
The tears that left my eyes could not have been more genuine.
I tried to sober up. I wiped my nose with the back of my sleeve and tried to wipe away the tears. But no matter how furiously I wiped at my face, the tears were still ever present. The gift that just kept on giving, I remember thinking bitterly.
I curled into myself, wishing I could stop humiliating myself in this disgusting manner in front of your girlfriend. I was a disgrace. To myself. To the rest of humanity.
I don't remember how long had passed. I was too embarrassed, too sad to even comprehend such a simple thing like time. Sad would be an understatement. There were no words at that moment to describe the turmoil that boiled within me. I still cannot find the words to explain how horribly I felt, curled up against your girlfriend's couch, having reached my breaking point and crying like I would never see the light of day ever again.
I was so consumed in my own self hatred that I never even noticed the soft touch on my shoulder. It was only after I felt a harder shove that I was able to resurface from the own bubble of self hatred that I had absentmindedly formed around myself.
There stood your girlfriend with a box of tissues so kindly gestured in my direction. I met her eyes, hesitant but she merely smiled and nodded, her beautiful and comforting features playing a part in the reason I reached out for the box.
I grabbed the box from her hands, making sure my fingers would not brush hers. I was suddenly aware of all I had done and it didn't make any sense but I felt like engaging in direct contact with your girlfriend would taint her—it would do her harm. Of course, it was a silly notion but it was how I felt.
I destroyed everything.
"I'm sorry," I confessed, rubbing the tissue over my nose before pulling out another one and dabbing at my eyes. The underside of my eyes felt raw when I dragged the tissue across them. I probably looked like a wreck. I certainly felt like one.
"I'm sorry," I repeated, my voice coming out throaty. I tried not to cry but I ended up choking on a sob. "God, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, Kareena."
But was it? Was it okay?
I was lying, In that moment I didn't feel sorry. I couldn't. Not when I could barely process all that I had done. It was like I was being struck by lightning, the sudden realisation of how not in love with you I had been all this time. Love does not turn you into a monster. Love does not feed on your deepest, darkest desires and try to manifest them.
Love always makes you put the other first.
I was not in love with you, Bradley.
Maybe I had been, once upon a time, but that inkling of a feeling completely morphed into something else the night you initiated the kiss—the night we made love, or to be precise, the night fucked.
I was not in love with you. I was obsessed with you.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Cheryl's soft voice could barely be heard over all the loud thoughts circulating my mind. I looked up at her and noticed that she still kept a safe distance away from me, the same way you kept at a distance the night I tried to force myself on you. Her hand lay gently over her belly and whether that was a conscious action or not, it was clear that she wanted to protect her baby. I was just an inconvenience. Perhaps I was overthinking it but if I were her I'd know that I wanted little to do with myself. She was split between wanting to help me and wanting to stay safe. To make that decision easier for her, I took it into my own hands.
"I apologise for everything I caused. I didn't mean any harm...well, not in that way." I glanced at her belly. Her arms tightened around herself and I tried not to feel offended by that action. I had no right to feel hurt when it was I who inflicted all this pain. "Tell Brad I'm sorry. Tell him... tell him goodbye."
The words almost lodged in my throat, refusing to come out but I forced them on, knowing nothing good would ever come if they were not out in the open. The words burned a fire along the column of my throat and it felt very much like downing a shot. I tried not to let my emotions show but I'd been unstable ever since I stepped foot inside Cheryl's house. Regaining composure was a feat I was unable to accomplish at that moment.
I didn't wait to hear her response. I couldn't. Either answer, yes or no, would have me over analysing her words and the predicament I had easily let myself get swallowed into.
I ran across the street to my car, completely oblivious to the speeding van headed down the road. My eyes widened and my heart leapt to my throat as the van swiveled, closely missing me. The man behind the wheel was quick to roll down his window and throw curses my way. My eyes were wide, my mind in a different place, and I tried so hard to get an apology out but it was as my voicebox had finally broken.
Perhaps it was fear and the utter discoordination I had was written all over myself for the man's features softened as he shouted, "Are you okay, ma'am?"
I could only manage a meek nod before I spun on my heel and ran towards my car. I fumbled with my purse, trying to locate my keys. My head was a mess. My heart felt like it had split in two. And this fucking key was nowhere to be found. My eyes were burning. My vision was blurry. Still, with a grunt of frustration, I fumbled with my purse, desperate to find my keys and lock myself inside the car, and drive. Drive far away from the world.
"Miss?" a masculine voice came from behind me. It was soft and gentle and yet I jumped in my place, turning around, my eyes wide with alert. "Are you all right? Do you need help?" When all I was able to do stare wide-eyed at him, he asked, smiling now as if that would ease my nerves and panicky state, "Are you hurt? Should I take you to the hospital? The police perhaps?"
Police.
I shook my head and managed to rasp out a, "No, thank you." I turned to my purse and found my keys, my mind finally working. I quickly unlocked my car, got in and slammed the door shut, making sure the locks went down the instant my door closed.
I glanced through the window and saw the bearded man having a concerned look on his face. He was confused too. I merely waved him off and turned away.
It was getting hard to breathe.
I remembered my lungs constricting, my world spinning, my eyes smarting. I lifted my trembling hands to the steering wheel and gripped onto them, trying to stabalise myself but I just couldn't stop shaking. My head was spinning. Everything felt so out of place, so dizzy. It felt like the world was about to come to an abrupt end and instead of ending my life with good deeds in the palm of my hands I had commited atrocious actions, towards you and towards your girlfriend.
Hell was made for the wickedly insane like me.
Insane.
Was I insane?
I didn't know if I was crazy. A few weeks ago everything was normal. You were always so far out of reach, Bradley. Anything I did to try to garner any romantic or sexual interest was turned on to blind eyes. And then you kissed me. Or I kissed you. I don't quite remember who first kissed who first but you certainly didn't stop the night from progressing into a pleasure filled rendezvous.
I closed my eyes and tried to recompose myself but the panic attack was getting the better of me. It wasn't until I heard an insistent pelting against my window that I noticed the man from earlier was still outside, now more concerned than ever.
With shaking hands I rolled down the window and managed to stutter out a "What?" but instead of sounding harsh like I wanted to since I wanted him gone, I sounded breathless and in need of dear help.
"Breathe," he instructed, ignoring my question. "Breathe in. Breathe out."
I shouldn't have taken instructions from a stranger but I did. And a minute later I was thankful, for the nerves that wreaked havoc within me finally calmed down, the raging waters of anger and fear forming gentle waves of an unfamiliar calm.
"Thank you," I said at last, peering graciously up at the stranger.
"No problem," he said, giving me a thumbs up. The action made me want to laugh, but I wasn't silly enough to actually do so. "You looked terrible and I just wanted to make sure you were all right." He paused, his punctuated silence echoing his unsaid question.
I offered him a smile though I didn't want to smile. "I will be all right," I said, reassuring him. My tone, however, was far from an assuring one.
It was clear from the incredulous look on his face that he did not believe me but because he was not in a position to question me, he simply patted the top of her car and stood back, giving me a small wave and a smile.
"All right then. Stay safe."
Safe. I should stay safe.
The question was: was anyone safe from me?