I saw an opportunity to hurt him and I took it. God dammit, I took it and I’ve never felt so strong, so alive.
The year since I walked out on Vincent has been one of the hardest of my life, and that’s saying something. I never thought anything could crush me more than growing up the way that I did, with a mom who wouldn’t stop drinking and a dad who never came home when he said he would.
Never guessed that a man would disappoint me more than my father.
But Vincent is no ordinary man.
When we were together, he would crush me in the most extraordinary ways. Bring me up, take me to the highest of highs I’ve ever experienced. Which only made the fall that much harder. Falling from heights I’d never been to before…and haven’t been to since.
He’s like a fucking drug. Something euphoric that leaves chaos and ruin behind it.
That’s Vincent.
Yes, technically, I was the one who lefthim. Because staying with him was killing me. The pain he put me through, the heartbreak…
My heels click on the solid marble tile as I make my way out of the hotel lobby and back out onto the street. The valet looks back as I walk out, glancing back to see whether I’m one of the fine establishment’s wealthy patrons, come to collect my car and hand him a hefty tip. When he sees that it’s just me, he turns away, facing the street as though I’m invisible.
Even to a stranger, it’s clear that I don’t belong in Vincent’s world.
Vincent was right. He was right from the very beginning. We would never work. Not in a million fucking years. I used to think I needed to belong, needed to earn his approval. That maybe if I squeezed myself into his Rich People box well enough, he’d accept me and promote me from Secret Fucktoy to Wife Material.
When I look back at the hoops I would jump through for him, I cringe. The way I contorted my personality in uncomfortable ways, trying to learn the ways of his world so that I could blend in when it’s obvious to me now that this was impossible.
I stand out.
And for once in my life, I don’t care. I’ve embraced it. From the neon pink highlights in my dark brown hair, to the rose tattoo on my forearm, I’ve made changes since I walked away from him.
Threw away all the clothes and shoes he gifted to me.
Traded the fancy car for a loud motorcycle and a hefty check, about fifty thousand dollars to help me rebuild my life from the rubble that our relationship left in its wake.
It’s amazing how much can change in twelve months. Through all the pain, I’m finally healing. Finally able to look on the bright side, to look into my future and see more than just endless sad nights alone.
Vincent reminded me who the fuck I am.
And after what I went through with him, I’ll never change myself for a man again. Never change myself foranyone.
What I wanted to tell Vincent upstairs is that I do feel something. Mostly pity.
Because although I’ve changed, he hasn’t. It was clear to me. I found him in his usual penthouse suite, probably waiting for the woman he summoned by phone to appear and finding me instead. Bottles of booze on every surface.
He’s got all the money in the world but hasn’t found a way to buy peace from his old demons. And maybe that’s how he likes it. He and his demons are close companions, the only friends who stay beside him through thick and thin.
I walk the short distance from Vincent’s hotel to mine, an inexpensive chain hotel with minimal furnishings and a slight mildew smell in the lobby. My room is basic and bare, with a scratchy comforter and pillows that wouldn’t be up to Vincent’s high standards.
But I sleep easier in this bed by myself than I ever did next to a man who wouldn’t acknowledge the love we had together.
3
Vincent
Why thefuckis she here?
“Black,” answers my head of security.
I can tell from his bleary tone that I’ve woken him up. I don’t give a fuck.
“She’s here,” I say. “And I want to know why.”
