Hell Sweet, Kayla

19

Empathy

The state of identifying with or understanding the feelings, thoughts, or emotional state of another person; particularly the one standing at the foot of my bed.

Cole wore his usual dark ensemble: grey tee, black jacket, dark jeans paired with boots. Still, he wasn't himself. He looked like a shadow of his former self, staring at me unblinkingly.

My eyes trailed down to the nearly empty food tray. There was a piece of lamb chop left and an empty yogurt cup. A lone sigh escaped my lips as I pushed the plate aside and met his unwavering stare again.

I wondered what was running through his head as he watched me. More lies, more excuses, more blame-shifting. He never owned up to his weaknesses, always seeking the easiest way out by blaming someone or something. But this time, he went too far to repair what he broke: my heart.

The more I pondered his thoughts, the angrier I became, knowing exactly what he would say. It seemed like one of those theater acts with a rehearsed speech. Breathing deeply, ready to be completely and utterly shattered, I asked, "Do you still love her?"

"It was a mistake, Kay," Cole said abruptly.

I closed my eyes briefly, biting down hard on my lip to stop myself from screaming. That's what you always say, Cole. It was a mistake, Kay. It sounded like another one of his rehearsed speeches.

I felt so stupid hearing those words, blaming myself for believing him over and over again.

His perfect blue eyes began to tear up, playing good cop bad cop over his mistake. I laughed.

I laughed because I knew how many times I had heard those words, breathed in those words, relied on those words for the sake of our relationship, not to start a fight.

Did my boyfriend say it purposely, knowing I hated it when we fought, or did he honestly mean it?

Mistake?

Did my long-term boyfriend and soon-to-be fiancé, who convinced me to reject a huge offer with the best publishers in the country over his dreams, just conclude that having sex with an infamous ex who hates me was a mistake?

I began to laugh harder, shaking my head while at it.

The only thing in my mind was to control myself because I would only end up getting hurt more if we started fighting.

I should have seen the signs coming.

The recent fights, the recurring accusations, her name coming up in our arguments. She was never fully out of his life in the first place. She stood in the shadows, feeding him lies, doubts, and thoughts about me.

I must have been truly stupid all these years. Mistake?

Cole crushed my heart beyond redemption, not understanding the gravity of those words in my head.

I felt played, used, ridiculed. "Did you mistakenly fall into her pussy? And mistakenly start having sex? Without protection?" I asked boldly, looking at him and fighting the tears at the brink of my eyes. Someone help me understand because I'm losing it.

Softly, I asked, "Tell me, Cole, how is that a mistake?"

My boyfriend couldn't utter a word as tears rolled down his face, holding onto my favorite flower. I didn't want his silence; didn't he understand? I needed an answer, but all I got was my heavy breathing.

You never truly grasp the feeling of heartbreak until you feel being torn apart from your own heart. I felt it, crying heavily on the inside, weak on the outside.