The most agonizing and devastating part is when you never thought you would be the one to feel the pain. It catches you off guard, unexpected and unwelcome, not because of what happened, but because of the person who inflicted it. The hero-turned-villain who caused your brutal fall from grace, flicking a fatal dagger into your heart with a lackadaisical swish of their wrist, releasing emotion and turmoil you never thought possible.

I’ve barely left my bed in days, using the time to wallow pathetically, stewing over the thought of Henry’s hand casually on another woman’s body, a smile on his face while he complimented her like I wasn’t even there.

Like I didn’t even exist.

Like he didn’t kiss me minutes before, holding me tight and gazing at me with adoring eyes.

I believe him when he says he didn’t intend to go up to the bar and meet anyone. I don’t think he purposely approached the woman. In fact, I’d be willing to bet she sought him out, swooping in while he was alone to play her hand and see how far it got her like it has in the past. It doesn’t make what happened right, though.

In a way, I resent myself for letting this bond between us get so deep. So important. So personal. This is what I’m left with from our time together; battle wounds and scars from someone who worshiped me like a modern-day Aphrodite less than a week ago. Now I’m bandaging up the remains and willing the aftershocks of torment to subside.

My unwashed hair hangs like stringy, limp noodles around my face. Food consumption has been minimal, and I’ve been surviving on a bowl of cereal and an almost expired cup of soup. The passing hours have bled together, day twisting into night and back again. It’s funny how fast time moves when you don’t want it to. Minutes fly by and hours are wasted, never to return again.

I’ve kept the curtains in every room of my house drawn like I’m in mourning, refusing to acknowledge the sun’s pesky existence outside my window, the warm, bright energizing beams dragging me further into a pit of despair. I’m also secretly hoping the hermit hole I’ve established will give me some idea… some inkling of a hint… any sort of help to tell me what the hell I should do.

Do I forgive and forget, moving on from the roadblock like nothing happened?

Do I brush it off, assuming people can change for good, even when their actions might dictate a different outcome?