Tainted Desires | 18+

63 - Lover's Blessing

Mirabelle Morrison

The days after that pivotal week seemed to blur together into a monotonous routine, where the world whispered its thoughts, some with boldness and others in hushed tones. I had become accustomed to hearing the unspoken musings of those around me, where their innermost secrets laid bare.

But in truth, none of it held any real significance for me anymore.

What truly mattered was the new life I found myself navigating. It was a life where Terrence and I coexisted, but our worlds were galaxies apart. The lunches I once spent in his office, where stolen glances and secret smiles were our currency, were now solitary affairs in the cafeteria.

My phone, once a constant source of connection and comfort, no longer rang with calls or vibrated with the warmth of his messages. The silence on the other end echoed in my heart, a haunting testament to the chasm that had grown between us.

It was a Saturday.

An empty Saturday.

The emptiness of today hung in the air.

It was a quiet Saturday, an unusual hush that hung in the air like a forgotten melody. The day, devoid of its usual vibrancy, felt empty in more ways than one.

In any other circumstance, on a typical weekend, I would have packed a small bag, gathering the essentials for a brief getaway, and driven myself to Terrence's house. Or perhaps he would have taken the wheel, his car navigating the familiar route to my doorstep. Either way, it was a ritual we cherished, a shared escape from the world.

My mind wandered to the comfort of his embrace. I could almost feel the warmth of his arms enveloping me, a sanctuary from the chaos of life outside. Our laughter, whispered secrets, and stolen kisses filled those hours, creating a world of our own.

But today was different.

Today, there were no anticipatory car rides, no exchanges of keys at the front door, and no shared space where our affection flourished. His absence was a void that reverberated, an ache that gnawed at the core of my being.

And it was all my fault.

Regret hung heavy in my heart, each word a painful echo of my impulsive choices.

I shouldn't have walked away from him. That moment when I turned my back on the man I loved, letting my anger guide me instead of my heart, was etched in my memory as a grievous mistake.

I shouldn't have so readily believed the news that had torn us apart, allowing doubt to overshadow the trust we were building over the past months.

I cringed at the memory of those hurtful words I had spoken, accusing him of making me sick. They had been born of frustration and misunderstanding, words I wished I could take back.

I should have stayed, given him the chance to explain, to mend the fractured pieces in my mind. Instead, I had chosen the path of hasty judgment, leaving us both wounded and adrift.

But my mistakes didn't end there.

Saying that I did not love him anymore was a destructive choice, a lifeline severed in a moment of weakness. Those words were meant to shield us from turmoil, not to be used as weapons against us.

Telling Eloise I was willing to step away had been a misguided attempt at honesty, but it had only driven us further apart, deepening the divide between us.

And that fateful day, when our eyes met, when silent pleas passed between us, I should never have allowed him to walk away. Instead, I should have pursued him, fought for the love that had once been the epicentre of my world, and strived to mend what I had shattered.