𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐀 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 ༄ 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐞, 𝗅. 𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗈𝗇

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 // profanity, cheating, alcohol
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 // anon
• 𝘯𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘤
• 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤; 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

"I always knew it would only be a matter of time before you stuck your dick into another woman." Your tone was calm as you wiped the kitchen island, gently moving around the big counter to clean every part. No fibre of your body was angry; you were just disappointed in him. You should have known that it would happen; with him travelling around, he was bound to mess up after having a couple of drinks. You only wish it would've happened in another country and not in your own bed.

Lewis stood off to the side, watching you clean the apartment you shared. His voice faltered every time he tried to speak, watching the way you glanced over at him with a let-down look. It broke him to see you like this, but there was nothing he could do.

You were finally done with his bullshit.

"I'm really sorry," he stated gently, the words once stuck in his throat finally being said out loud. You waited all evening to hear that after you showed the woman in bed with him out of your home with a loud shut of the door and then later went to tidy the kitchen.

He hadn't muttered a word to you, seemingly unable. Didn't make a move to apologise in any other way; just dressed quickly and followed you to where you were now. Standing in the kitchen in the clothes you left in that morning, storing away the cloth you used.

"I feel sorry for me too."

You bit back any harsh words that came to mind, not wanting to create a scene and blow up in his face. He wasn't worth your time, and you knew that if that happened, you would somehow end up falling asleep in his arms and forgiving him for what he did. That's because that was what happened last time. But you were out of second chances — third, actually.

He faltered a bit at the words, his expression changing as he saw that it was different. You were sure he expected the same outcome as the previous time. Not giving it to him was the best decision you made so far tonight, as you finally came to your senses when you saw him.

"Look," you started, leaving the kitchen to make your way to the bedroom. The one you usually shared, but was now known as the one he had been in with another woman. "I'm done."

The only thing heard was the padding of your feet along the hallways and another pair following behind you. But you swore you could hear him swallow thickly at the words. Every trace and step back to the room brought back unwanted feelings into the mix. Making your stomach ache.

The door had been left ajar with the hurry you both had been in, and you ventured inside and moved towards the walk-in closet. You tugged the handle more sharply than you intended and went in to grab your clothes. There were multitudes of them — they wouldn't all fit in the suitcases you planned on taking — but you hauled them out and off the rods and drawers in bundles.

"Can't we just talk about it?" He pleaded quietly, watching you march past him and throw the pack of jumpers onto the dishevelled bed, where blankets and pillows lay sprawled all across. It disgusted you, just looking at it. You continued taking your clothes out of the closet while answering him.