You always make me smile, Zioh. I wanna do the same, and I want us to be happy together forever.Green. 11.
Then—I remembered. Our lives began as a thread, neat and whole, and became a tangled knot.Shewas the one who caused it.
It rotted everything further. I couldn’t look into hazel eyes for ten seconds without feeling heat crawl up my spine. I wanted to tear off every bit of olive skin and shred every black hair I saw.
The worst part was that she didn’t even realise it. Even in the end, she wore an innocent look and carried her life unscathed.
We were the ones destroyed, while she carried on fine!
I shook my head harder as the noise inside my head grew ready to burst, to explode.Calm down, you bastard.Ordon’t.Breathe,or don’t.Count. I shook my head: people, chairs, tables, Tshabina, tears—
My brows drew together.
She was… crying
From inside the car, parked right outside the restaurant, there she was—framed by the window. She finally started to eat because she hadn’t touched a bite while I was there. Then she pulled out her phone, made a call, and broke down in tears.
Tshabinacried…
My whole body stiffened, tension rising with no explanation but the undeniable truth of it coursing through me. My body hurt. My mind roared. Everything darkened, darker and—
I shot out of the car, my body no longer my own. I clenched my jaw as my breath came out ragged. I opened the door, and winced a little as the loudness struck me, mixed with a thud that rang in my ears.
Turning left and right, I scanned the crowd, though I hardly knew what—or who—I was looking for. All I knew was the compulsion burning inside me, urging me to do something before I lost control and erupted in the middle of the room.
Then, one door caught my eye at the far corner of the hall.Staff Only.
With heavy, stiff strides, I went straight for it.
Hold it in,damn it. People, tables, glasses, tears—
Fuck.
Why was she sobbing like that?
Which bastard caused it?
Whoever it was, they’d pay for it. The same way she had wept, they’d bleed. The same way her body had gone pale and rigid when she heard that voice on the other end of the line, they’d shatter, and worse, tenfold fuckingworse, if need be.
Reaching the door, I shoved it open. There were a few people inside and a lot of equipment. A handful of staff stared at me in confusion, but I didn’t care. My stride was tight and deliberate, and I walked straight up to a man gawping at me.
What now?Think.
I reached for my pocket, yanked out my wallet, and snatched a signed cheque from inside, shoving it at him.
“Change the song,” I muttered, rushed and low, and deep heaviness filled my chest.
The man blinked, staring at the blank cheque, then back up at me. His hesitation needled me raw. I didn’t have the patience for this shit. “Strong,” I blurted. I didn’t know why; I could only name the last song I had heard with her, more than ten years ago.
The last one she’d played beside me, sung along to, laughed together in my car, only the two of us. After that, I’d never again seen her sing with such joy. “Play ‘Strong’ by One Direction. Turn it up.” I grabbed his hand, pressed the cheque into it, and let go. “Take the cheque, write whatever bloody number you want. Now.”
Then I strode out, my blood still boiling, brimming with pitch-black, crept over my thoughts and my body. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her again; if I did, I knew I would lose the tenuous grip I had on my restraint. My steps were rigid and forward until I reached the car again. I climbed in and turned my face away.
My hands were crimson from pressing too hard, crushing my fury into my skin. I shook my head fast. Papers, seats, my chauffeur, the window, Natasha—
Finally, Natasha returned. But I growled at the chauffeur before she could open her mouth. “Drive. Now.”
The car rolled forward, and I stared out the window while my mind drifted miles away. Out of the corner of my eye, Natasha was watching me again, concern etched all overher face. Her earlier irritation seemed to have drained away, replaced by something softer.
