𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ✔️

♡ Chapter 33 ♡

August 1st.

The plane back to Italy was silent. And not because Celeste was ignoring me.

But because she took an entirely different flight.

Last night, she didn't say a single word to me after standing up. She ran outside, and I chased after her. But she called a taxi and slammed the door in my face.

And by the time I got back to the hotel, all of her stuff was already gone. No note, no text, nothing. 

I step inside my house for the first time in nearly a month. I dropped my bags to the ground and didn't even bother to unpack. 

I tried to talk to her as I ran after her.

"I'm sorry."

"The reaction had to be real, or else he wouldn't believe it."

"I love you, Celeste."

But she didn't even do so much as to look at me over her shoulder.

It's been eating me alive. The thought of her hating me. On the long ass flight back, I was offered multiple meals. But I didn't accept a single one. I feel so nervous that I can't even fucking eat. 

My house doesn't feel the same, although nothing is changed. My grey furniture is still in the exact same place. The wooden flooring is still clean. The grey walls are still bare.

But it doesn't feel the fucking same.

I look down at my hand. I still wear the fucking wedding ring. I'm pathetic, I can't take it off. 

I had plans to leave Italy - no, we had plans to leave Italy.

But I feel like I have the answers to nothing. I don't know if she still loves me. I don't know if she wants me dead. I don't know if she wants to come with me. 

If she tried to kill me, I'd let her. 

I take a hot shower and then sit out in my backyard as the sun sets. I bounce my leg up and down anxiously. I want to smoke a fucking cigarette so bad, it's like every single body in my bone is telling me to. But I don't.

It's actually embarrassing the number of times I've checked my phone to see if she texted me. 

But she never has.

Give her space.

Give her space.

Give her space.

I repeat this over and over to myself, as if it were an ancient chant.

But before I know it, I'm in my car. I can't not see her today - God, I just need to see her fucking face. I just need to hear her voice. I just need her to tell me that she doesn't hate me. 

I speed down the road, not giving a shit about the annoying ass sound that keeps going off since I don't have my seatbelt on. 

I'm too selfish to not see her. I'm too selfish to not feel her soft skin, for a single day. I'm too selfish to let her go.

Death is the only thing that would keep me from her.

I tunnel vision as I drive. But the second that I see her house in the distance, for a split second, I feel as if I can breathe. 

I rear off the road, being too impatient to wait for the driveway and turn into it. I drive over the curb, and over the grass. I kill some of it as I slam on my brakes and jump out of my car, not bothering to shut the door behind me.