Tell me The Truth

Prologue

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Tell me the Truth

Prologue

'Honesty is the first chapter of the book of wisdom.' – Thomas Jefferson

Fury boiled inside her veins, blurring her vision as she pushed against his solid chest with all the strength she could muster. "You asshole! You absolute prick! I hate you, I fucking hate you!" she cried out, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks as she kept hitting his chest over and over again. "How could you do this to me? How could you?" she wailed, slumping down to her knees. He tried to hold her up, but she shrunk back from his touch and pushed his hands away from her.

He pulled his hands back with a sigh, his eyes filled with hurt and sorrow. "Izzy, please, let me explain," he begged, but she didn't want to listen, she couldn't. He'd ripped her heart out of her chest and tore it to pieces. How could he expect she'd give him a chance to explain? She didn't think she'd ever hurt so bad, the knife inside of her chest twisting and turning every time she looked at his face.

"You bastard!" she screamed, her voice shrill and broken. The wails of a small child echoed through the house, but she didn't hear it. She couldn't hear anything but the rapid beating of her broken heart. "I never want to see you again!" she told him with finality, her eyes filled with disgust as she took her purse from the floor where she had thrown it earlier.

"Izzy, don't do this. Don't leave when you're mad. We have to talk about this," he claimed, but she just shook her head and laughed humorlessly. Talk? It was too late to talk. That ship had sunken to the bottom of the ocean a long time ago.

"There's nothing left to talk about," she stated, the resolution in her face unmistakable as she pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder and looked at him one last time. "I hate you, Chad. I can't bear to look at your spiteful face one more second," she told him, her eyes piercing his, before she turned around and walked out of the door of the house they'd lived in for seven years without so much as a second glance. She was done. They were done. Over. For good.