Our Deep End | ✔️

CHAPTER 41

Christian's POV
A slight wince taints my face when I slowly pull the adhesive off my knuckles exposing my bare skin. They were a little less black and blue than last night, but still visibly bruised. I had gotten stitches on my first two knuckles Saturday night...a result of me sending my fist into a mirror. I couldn't help myself. I've never been one to handle my emotions properly. My go to reaction is always anger. Ever since I turned my back on Elle that night, I've been stuck with a torrid rage. One that often left me tugging at my hair in regret.

As soon as I stepped back into my house, leaving her out in the cold I regretted it. It never dawned on me how frustrated I've made her feel these past months. I know she had issues with my reserved tendencies but I didn't know it was to this far of an extent. I'm a fucking idiot.

It's been four days without her. Four days without the melody of her laugh. Four days without peering into her gorgeous eyes, easily reading the emotion they try to display. Four days without her calming words. I fucking miss her. I caved and tried calling her on Saturday morning only to see that she blocked me everywhere. The only way I'd be able to speak to her is if I literally stood outside on her front lawn, and yelled through a window. She's done with me.

I don't want to entertain the thought that I will never have her beautiful face held between palms again, but that's not even what pains the most. It was the look in her eyes when she showed up at my front door. The look of horror and torment. I was the reason behind that look, and that kills me.

Knowing what she's been through in the past, she doesn't deserve this. But my hands are tied...thus the stitches on my knuckles. I'm livid that this is my reality.

After applying a layer of bacitracin ointment to the wound, I carefully cover it again. A sharp noise of glass cracking underneath the heel of my shoe rings in the air when I get up to put the ointment back. I still haven't cleaned up.

My house was a complete mess, the opposite of its usual state. I impulsively flipped tables, broke vases and tore down paintings in hopes of satisfying my starving fury. Of course, I was unsuccessful and my father will likely have a fit once he comes back. Whenever that is.

I also skipped school today, with the excuse that I needed time to clean up. The truth is, I just wasn't ready to see Elle. I contemplated many times how our first encounter would be now that we're no longer together and I have conjured up about one hundred different scenarios in my head.

In some, she remains just as I left her. Devastated, harboring every feeling of betrayal and resentment towards me. Of course that hurts to think about, but oddly enough, it's not the worst thing I can think of. What would be even more heart shattering is if she found herself better off without me. Happier without me. The thought alone kills me.

A piece of me wants to believe that this is what's best, because now I can focus completely on finding information on Esme. But I know deep down that's not true. This isn't what's best for me. She's what's best for me.

I hear the doorbell ring, which is a fortunate distraction from the army of thoughts threatening to invade my mind.

It's most likely the pizza I ordered half an hour ago.

I quickly head over to the door, wallet in hand.

"Hi. Two large pies, one pepperoni and one regular?" A short girl, with bleach blonde highlights greets me when I open the door.

"Yes. Thank you." I pull out my wallet, fishing out two twenty dollar bills and hand them to her. "Keep the change."

The shirt part of her uniform was cut and cropped, exposing her dangling belly button ring. Didn't know that was allowed at these kinds of establishments, but I guess the times have changed.