If there’s one thing i can’t stand, it’s pity. Which is unfortunate for her, considering that’s all she’s been receiving ever since Harry had broken up with her.
Between her family, her friends, and long-known acquaintances, the pity was never ending. The looks people gave her whenever she occupied a room made her sick to her stomach. Nobody looked at her the way they used to as if their perception of her has been altered from a beautiful, humble woman to a broken heart on legs.
Talking to people didn’t help much, either, considering their irrational fear that one harsh tone could wreck what’s left of her. To those, her identity and name have seemed to be forgotten, only to be replaced by “the girl left with a broken heart, who’s heart has failed to mend.”
It’s all a myth, really—a myth that hasn’t been confirmed or denied within the past four months. I provided no reassurance for anybody, nor did she show any improvement since their break up. But she did try her best. Her attempts to answer the question,
“how have you been, you know, since the breakup and all?” with an “I’ve
been okay”filled with lies didn’t go unnoticed, however, proved to be
unsuccessful.
And the pity only got worse when Harry got a new
girlfriend.
It was plastered everywhere, the rumors that Harry’s
new girlfriend stayed at his hotel in Los Angeles and traveled with him back to
London. They disclosed that her name was Jessica, who works as a travel
blogger.
She was beautiful, too. More beautiful than she
wanted her to be, as selfish as it was. She was the perfect image for him,
especially at the height of his career.
my heart hit rock bottom that day. Every unblemished
part of it became a ruin, a shattered piece of what was once so full and whole.
I hadn’t expected it, not this fast, at least. When
Harry initiated the breakup, he told her that it wasn’t the end of their
relationship. He had promised her that with the right amount of distance, all
the problems they’ve had in their relationship would be fixed entirely.
She believed him, too. That with maybe some time
apart, their bitterness towards each other would decease, and all that would
remain would be the overwhelming needs for one another.
She should have never been so gullible. After they
broke up, they never spoke to each other again. All their ties had been cut,
leaving them both hanging in completely separate lives. I never got over him.
How could she? They were soulmates, they were each other’s everything. No
matter what came at them, they always found a way back to one another.
But Harry’s fame started skyrocketing,
leaving I on the ground with no way to reach him anymore. She should have
known he’d find someone else—someone more worthy of his time. She
just didn’t want to believe it and didn’t want to believe that it
had happened so soon.
“How are you feeling?” Gabby asks, reaching over the
wooden table so that her fingers can rest on top of my hand; a small gesture
that Gabby has been giving me nearly every day for the past four months.
I wishes she found it as comfortable as it
intended to be, however she can’t help feeling worse whenever Gabby did so. The
gesture undoubtedly derives from the pity Gabby has had toward her ever since
the breakup. Everything was because of pity.
She looks down at her cold, untouched hot chocolate
as she swirls the straw along the brim, resisting to roll her eyes as it’s the
only question everybody has seemed to ask her recently.
“The usual,” she shrugs, “nothing’s really changed.”
Gabby gives her a half smile before returning to her
tea. The cafe is only occupied by the both of them, considering it’s 7 in the
morning on a Sunday. But after everything that’s happened, My sleep schedule
has been slacking and Gabby wanted nothing more than to be there for me whenever she had the chance.
“Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Gabby asks.
“It’s on me if you want anything.”
I shrugs again, a faint yawn falling from her
mouth as she shakes her head.
“No, I’m okay. I think I’ll make some waffles when I
get home. But I’ll need to stop at the grocery store before I leave. Ran out of
milk and flour the other day.”
“We could stop by now if you’d like. I’m getting
quite full, anyways.”
“Yeah, sure” my nods, “sounds fine.”
The entrance doors chime when I and Gabby enter
the grocery store, barely any people filling the aisles at such hours. Neither
of them speak much before they go their separate ways, grabbing all the
necessary ingredients i needs for when she gets home.
When she finds flour on one of the bottom shelves, I bends down to grab the cheapest one she could find. In all honesty, she
didn’t have a lot of money to spend since she took some time off of work for
“mental health reasons,” and she wanted nothing more than to go back home and
spend the rest of her day in bed.
When she stands back up from her squatting position,
her body rams into somebody else’s, making everything they both were carrying
fall onto the floor.
“Oh shit! I’m so sorry!” gasps, scrambling to
pick up the ingredients that have fallen from the girl’s arms.
When i stands back up to return her fallen items,
it was as if every nightmare i has ever had was standing right in front of
her.
She’d recognize her face anywhere. It haunted her everywhere she went; mocking her and destroying every last bit of her well being. Her face is unforgettable, having been ingrained into her head for so long now. She’s exactly how she is in her pictures, except she’s so much more beautiful in person.
It’s when my eyes drift down to the shirt she’s
wearing that takes the breath right from her lungs.
The word Lover printed
inside of a red heart, the end of it hidden by the pocket right on her chest.
It looked so unfamiliar on her—so unfamiliar that tears started piling
in her eyes and her lips began to quiver.
That shirt was theirs. That shirt belonged to me and Harry.
Lover.
It was a nickname I always gave Harry. She would
have normally settled for “babe” or “baby” like she did with her previous
boyfriends, but “lover” came so naturally to her. It exemplified just how
unique and rare their relationship was, too.
Harry had never been called that before, but there
was something about it that felt so right. The first time she called him that,
he blushed like no other. His cheeks and heart felt so warm, and i wouldn’t
let him hear the end of it. But no matter how much she joked about how much he
blushed that night, it only made her call him that more.
And the more she said it, the more she realized that
there was no other name to describe him.
She gave him the shirt for their first anniversary.
She was insecure about it, considering it was the only gift she purchased him
that year and wasn’t nearly as expensive as all the gifts Harry had given her.
But after all the flowers she received had died months later, after all the
chocolate he bought her had been eaten in two nights, after all the in-home spa
treatments had been used by the both of them progressively throughout the
months, and after all the sex they shared died down by the next morning, the
only gift that remained so dearly to their hearts was that goddamn shirt.
The shirt became sentimental to their
relationship and was almost used as a keepsake between the two of them.
The mornings after making love, Y/n found herself slipping it on before rolling
out of bed to make breakfast. Harry fell in love with her tendency to do so and
always made sure she knew just how much he loved her for it.
This is my favorite look on you, he’d always say, where the
shirt hung loosely from her frame and her skin scattered with the marks from
his tongue.
Harry wore the shirt as a tradition, most commonly
on their anniversaries or on any specific date that held such significance to
their relationship. And every time i saw him wearing it, she found it
irresistible to kiss the heart designed right upon his chest.
My lover, she’d say, looks so perfect
on you.
She never imagined anybody else in it. Even after
they had broken up, she never thought the shirt would be passed down to later
relationships Harry had with other women. When she moved out, he kept insisting
that she should be the one to take it.
written by Jayesh
reviewed by sky and rewrite
For part -2 of this story stay connected to our blog
written by Jayesh
reviewed by sky and rewrite
For part -2 of this story stay connected to our blog
this is share and represented by virganlove
thankyou for reading
nice post
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