I slam the door to what was once mine and Lip’s room. The impact from the door closing rattles the bottles of beer and perfume on the dresser. I sink down to the floor, my hands tangling in my hair in my moment of distress.
“How can this be? How could this have happened?” I cry. This nightmare of horror is enveloping me. The scythe the Devil himself used to tear my heart from my chest made it so painful the depths of my wellbeing may never be the same again. My bottom lip trembles with the thought of being deceived for so many years. I fell in love with Lip, shared things with him I never have with anyone else. I close my eyes and tears slip down my cheeks.
I knew Lip was hiding something. I fucking knew it. I just didn’t suspect it ‘til recently, when his mask of Prince Charming started slipping. Funny thing is I preferred the fucked-up, kinky Lip over that bullshit fake Lip he was before. I guess because I always knew deep down he was more than he let on, that he was capable of causing mayhem.
I form fists in my anger. I was so stupid to think some guy off the side of the road would just fall in love with me and invite me into his family as easy as Lip did. I was naive enough to lift my walls, to trust again. I let my wings out and flew with the wind, only that wind turned into a hostile storm and I got swept up in its gust before I knew what was happening.
“Fucking asshole!” I scream. I keep screaming, so loud my throat burns, but I don’t stop. I continue to shout, demanding this hurt buried deep inside to leave at once.
I stand on wobbly legs, my voice nearly gone and my throat feeling like I swallowed razor blades. I swipe my arms along the dresser in a fit of rage. One by one, the empty bottles, clothes, and cosmetics go flying across the room.
“Lying son of a bitch!” I shout with my now-raspy voice, gripping the half-naked chick poster hanging on the wall and ripping it down. I grab every picture of slutty twat waffles hanging on the walls and tear them down the middle.
“I hate you! I hate you!” I cry, pulling the blankets and sheets off the bed. The bed that Lip and I fucked in—or what I thought was making love—many times before.
The sheets tangle around my arms, halting me from tearing the mattress onto the floor. How fitting—soft sheets that portray comfort and solace trapping me in a strong hold. I turn and twist, trying to break free, but I fall to the floor in a heap of fabric.
My fury and anger smothered with blankets cocooning me, my emotions spring through me with such a force nothing escapes but a stream of tears and gasping.
Six years of lies. Six years of deceit. Six years of false emotion and underlying secrets. I don’t see us ever coming back from this.
***
“Cherry?” I slowly open my eyes, seeing nothing but the gray sheets. I eventually gave in to my feelings and covered my head with the sheets, crying it all out on the shitty floor. I must have fallen asleep.
“Cherry, babe?” It’s Dani.
“What?” I croak, my throat feeling like raw hamburger. My eyes burn and feel swollen from crying so hard, and my throat is scratchy from screaming and yelling. I feel worn out… used.
The sheets tug upward and the lights from above beam with such a force I wince and turn my head away.
“Damn, girlie,” Dani whispers, her face conveying sympathy. I hold my hand up, stopping her.
“Don’t. I don’t need that shit. Just go,” I demand, pointing at the door, not looking at her. I am not the weak one. I don’t cry and I don’t have relationship problems. Yet here I am with all of the above. I don’t need someone to judge me, or to feel sorry for me. I just want to be left the hell alone.
“Don’t give me that shit. Sit up. I got a cold soda and some music.” Dani grabs my arm and pulls me upward.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a pain in the ass?” I mutter, sitting upright. I push my back against the dresser and squint at her. She’s beautiful—long dark hair, green eyes, and a red slinky top with black shorts. You’d never guess she had two kids with the figure on her.
“Yeah, Shadow tells me all the time.” She laughs and I close my eyes. I seriously don’t want to think about men right now. “Shadow told me what happened. I’m sorry, Cherry. I’d kick Lip’s ass if it’d make you feel any better, but I know it won’t.” She slides down, sitting directly in front of me. She leans her back against the bed and tosses a soda can between her legs toward me.
“The joke’s on me ‘cause I really love Lip. Dark, light, all of his shades,” I scoff and grab the soda. Anger is slowly replacing my sorrow, but not fast enough.
“I hear you weren’t very honest with him, either.”
My eyes snap to hers and she raises a brow, waiting for an explanation. Instead, I pop the top to the soda can and let the fizzy cool contents slip down my sore throat.