Part One- His granite island counter

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Standing here, looking at his glassy eyes, it feels so strange. I have imagined this very moment many times. In one scenario I acted nonchalant and unbothered while he begged for me to take him back. On his knees and tears rolling down his eyes while I scoffed at his weakness before shutting the door in face. That would have been ideal indeed. Except, this is not the building I live in and he is not standing in front of my flat. Instead, I am in his. In his kitchen to be exact, standing face to face with him. The granite island counter separating us, which is a way better quality one than the one in my flat, is the only thing that is helping me stay strong. It might seem strange but holding on to the corner of that granite top is helping me to stay standing.

Why is he looking at me like that? Why does he keeping looking directly at my eyes? Its as though he is trying to read my every thought and it is ridiculous but I say a little prayer that he cannot. "Olly." That one word and I want to crawl up into a ball and drown in a pool of my own tears.

He is such trash. I cannot stand him. And what irritates me to the core is that I love him. With every single fucking fibre within me, I love him and I just wish he would die.

I was doing fine, I had just gotten my shit together but now I am standing by his kitchen counter and I just dont know what to do. Or how to act. But oh boy do I know how I feel. ANGRY and in love.

"Olly, you good?" He is looking into my soul again.
"Yeah." I respond.
"Would you like some coffee?"
Oh so its screw your life and offer you some coffee now huh? "Yeah sure." I say.
"You still take it the same?"
"Yeah, but I doubt you would rember that." "We were together for five years, of course I remember."
"Well seems you had forgotten all that in those last months, I wonder what suddenly cured your amnesia." I chuckle like I don't care and he looks as though he wants his face to cave in and disappear. That bring me a bit of joy in this awful situation.
"That's not..." I cut him off before he can try and justify his actions with some made up bull.
"Don't sweat it. It doesn't really matter now, we are both over it." Except, I'm not over it.
"Yes  of course." He responds and it's strange that he doesn't sound like he is over it either.

That is none of my business though. He is not mine to worry about anymore. "So, is there any particular reason why you practically forced me to to here?" I want to leave this place ASAP.
"Can we maybe sit first? It's kind of awkward to keep standing here." Ha! That's the only awkward part. I internally roll my eyes. I take a seat quietly and look at him. Waiting. I am keeping my cool so well right now! I give myself a mental pat on the back. He is nervous. And I am even happier.
"Well, I just..." He stops. "I just wanted to... the way things.. damn I am making a fool of myself." He rubs the back of his neck. Such a small thing and it's threatening to bring the memories back. I don't have time for this.
"It's okay, go on." I say, feigning coolness. I am so good at this. He stops, takes a deep breath and exhales.
"What I wanted to say is that I am sorry for everything." He looks pained. How nice, I'm sure I looked worse when he left me.

"Oh you don't need to apologize, it's been so long." I wave it off, ignoring his expression. "Yes it's been long but that doesn't change the fact that I did you wrong. I have been wanting to apologize for a long time. I wonder if that was before or after she left your idiotic ass. "You really don't have to. I got over it long ago and you should too. I moved on from it. Eew. Why does he look so dejected? He clears his throat.
"Yeah of course. Thank you though for forgiving me."
"It's nothing, I got over it." I respond. But it's not nothing. Because I have not forgiven him. He doesn't deserve my forgiveness but the heavens forbid he finds out how petty and unforgiving I actually am.

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