The monster her father created when he buried me alive.
“You should’ve forgotten me faster,” I fire back.
The devastation that flashes across her face nearly fucking sends me over the edge.
Because Ophelia looks at me like I just reached inside her chest and ripped her heart out with my bare hands.
Then Brayden appears beside her clutching his broken wrist, looking bruised and bloody from the fight. Then wraps an arm around her possessively like he has any right.
“Stay the fuck away from her,” he spits, but I barely even hear him because all I can focus on is my Firefly standing there looking shattered.
Confused. Hurt. Like she doesn’t understand why I’m being cruel to her.
I didn’t do anything. I’m not the one who caused her heartache or whatever this is.
Her father is to blame. Maybe she should go home to her daddy and spit her venom in that direction.
“I hate you,” she yells, and the words hit harder than any prison fight ever has. She starts crying again as Brayden pulls her away through the crowd and like a fucking idiot… I let him take her.
I stand here motionless while the love of my life disappears from sight all over again.
Only this time?
I’m the one who destroyed her.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Ophelia
“4am-Melanie Fiona”
I can still hear the sound of Brayden’s nose breaking. The crack echoes through my head the entire drive home. Not because it upset me. Because it didn’t. That’s the part that makes me monstrous.
Brayden sits beside me in the backseat of the SUV clutching his ruined face while blood stains the white towel pressed against his nose. He keeps cursing under his breath, threatening lawsuits, revenge, and retaliation. I barely hear any of it.
Because Hayden is alive.
Alive.
The word doesn’t feel real.
My fingers tremble in my lap while tears silently stream down my face.
I stare blankly out the tinted window watching the streetlights blur past like ghosts.
Alive.
Not dead.
Not buried.
Not gone forever.
Alive.
Three years.
Three years of grieving him.
