10. Nia
Another week passes and nothing changes. Same pain, same anger, same deep sense of incomprehension… same darkness surrounding me. Taking over my thoughts and emotions. I feel myself drift away from my world. Like nothing matters. Nothing is real anymore. No one can be trusted. All I see, all I feel, is hurt, fury and numbness. And I embrace that last one the most. At least when I'm numb, I can breathe, function, speak, move around and live my life like the robot I've apparently become.
And that's how I was seeing the next decades of my life play out until…
My phone rings. It's a number I don't recognize. Could be one of my social cases. I pick up without thinking.
"Hey baby."
I drop the device like it's burning coal. It's him. Kenji. Two words. Three syllables. Weeks after our single night together, I recognized him. I pick up my phone with trembling fingers and end the call. Without a word.
A couple of minutes later, the notification for a text message comes up. "We need to talk."
I block the number. He calls and texts from different numbers that I all block. But his last message says, ‘I'm coming to see you.'
My heels furiously click on the pavement as I'm making my way to my car. I need to get out and far away from my place before Kenji's "little visit". A luxurious black town car slows down on the curb next to me. I quickly glance to the side and my eyes go wide when the shaded window lowers to reveal his face. Oh My God! I stand, frozen in place. He's… he's here. And he's justas beautiful as in my memories. He looks tired from the dark circles under his gorgeous eyes. But it's him. Perfect bone structure, olive skin, striking features. Yep, same asshole who kicked me out of his house. Fucking get it together, Nia! But I just keep staring like a damn moron.
"Hi, Nia. Can I give you a ride, please?"
His voice… his fucking voice. Just as low, deep, and fucking perfect as in my dreams. And that's what it takes to shake me out of my stupor.
"Fuck you." I turn on my heels and leave without a back glance.
* * *
I stare at the beautiful bouquet of dark red roses, breathing deep through my nose, trying to get my rage under control. A whole fucking month of this shit, and I'm just as fucking furious. No more sadness, no more apathy. I want to fucking kill this asshole.
Every single day since that first call, the text message, his attempt to see me, Kenji has been sending me presents. Flowers, gourmet food, jewelry, dresses. The psycho even had a fucking car brought to my house. A brand new Mercedes SUV. Cream color, with leather interior, and all the bells and whistles. I swear, I had a moment of hesitation before refusing the delivery.
I've been able to refuse most of the gifts, but some are just dropped on my front door, or at work…
I snatch a handful of flowers from today's bouquet and crush them in my fist, watching the poor petals crumple to the ground. All they remind me of is that horrible night when Kenji fucking turned my world around, then humiliated me, throwing me away like a fucking used condom. And now not a day passes without him sending me his stupid gifts. I wish I didn't care, but I fucking hate it. Fucking hate him! This asshole made me believe in a dream. He made me feel like I was the only woman in the world. The most special, precious, amazing. That he would fucking walk through fire for me, then he fucking kicked me out of his bed, naked, with another man in attendance. I could have died of humiliation, if heartbreak and disappointment hadn't taken me down first.
I thought I knew what to expect. Some level of danger because of his line of work, but not to be treated like a fucking piece of gum stuck to his shoe.
The way he looked at me, how he spoke. I'll never forget that cold, hard expression and those hurtful words.
And now fucking what? What does he want? Why send me all this?!