I couldn’t deal with him much longer. I could feel the tether of my emotions pushing forward, wanting release. I had to get out before I broke down. Before I crumbled to the floor where I’d be unable to get back up.

I shut that shit down, packing all that hurt, all that useless feeling so far down to revisit another time.

Leave. Escape.

As if Owen could see the resolve hardening in place, he lost his composure. His voice cracked on a sob, and tears ran from his eyes as he instinctively reached for me.

His palms squeezed my cheeks as he dispersed kisses all over my face. Silently begging, pleading.

Each brush of contact reverent, each caress sealed with a vow—one he had already set on fire and burnt to ash.

And I felt nothing. I was an empty shell. Subjectively, I could feel his touch, but the neurons weren’t relaying to my brain. I couldn’t even feel his lips, not really. I just felt cold… So utterly cold.

After he naturally tapered off by laying one last kiss on my lips, Owen finished by looking deep into my eyes, searching for something he would no longer find.

Then, I gave him my reply.

“Your touch feels like poison,” I said. So matter-of-fact and genuine, the words made him wince backwards. Taking advantage of his distraction, I bolted for the door towards my freedom. “You will never see me again.”

I risked one last glance before my exit—one tiny token to take with me on the perilous journey ahead I’d found myself alone on.

Owen had crumbled to his knees, pulling at his hair, sobbing “please” over and over again.

Without another word, I walked out of our shared life—the life he had broken beyond repair.

Chapter 2

ALEXIS

I was parked at Mercy Lake— our lake.

I didn’t remember driving or even how I got there, but it seemed poetic in a way.

That place was the epicentre of everything important in mine and Owen’s relationship. It was where we shared our first kiss, where we awkwardly lost our virginity in the backseat of his car. By the lakeside is where he proposed, and subsequently, where we had our wedding ceremony.

It was symbolic in so many ways that it felt natural as I walked to the edge of the water. Night had fallen, and the black surface remained pristine as the sounds of nature drew me into a sense of melancholy.

I was alone. And would remain so.

I rubbed at my sternum, those harrowing emotions threatening to burst forth once more. Sliding my phone free from my pocket, I ignored all the messages and missed calls from my soon-to-be ex-husband and ex-friend. I blocked them without looking at their desperate pleas and pathetic apologies—all lame excuses to assuage their guilt.