Freen
There was a palpable pang in the depths of my heart as I sat my butt in the cold metal chair in the bar counter. Becky's words keep repeating inside my head breaking my heart into a million pieces. It was not my intention to scare her away nor to broadcast my love like that but my idiocy just put me in this damn situation.
It hurts.
But I know the pain I felt was not even halves of what I did to Becky. I broke her over and over again, everyday I ruin her heart. Yet only with that statement i'm already crawling away? That's absurd, I can't just give up because she told me i'm a memory she don't wanna experience again. It hurts how I can totally see in her eyes the gates that put me out the door of her heart. It hurts to be lock out of her own comfort because I hurt her badly.
"Give me another marsala please." I demanded. The bartender look at me cautiously hesitant to give me another drink since it's gonna be my sixth glass and everything around me started spinning already.
"I'm not gonna give you that ma'am, marsala has one of the highest alcohol content and i'm afraid it will make your more intoxicated in a matter of few chugs." He replied.
"Oh come on! Fucking give me that!" My head was spinning yet my communication skills is still at it's finest.
"Ma'am i'm sorry. I'm just worried about you, you're a sexy lady and every man's eyes are on you right now. You're like a little sister to me. You look like my sister." He explained, I rolled my eyes at him before pulling his collar.
"Well if I am like a little sister then please help me forget the pain in here." I pointed at my heart which his eyes directly follows. When he realized what I mean, he sighed and pulled himself away from me before pouring me a glass of the drink that I wanted. And indeed after a few seconds the dizziness I felt heightened.
I closed my eyes, my hands traveled on the metal band around my neck hidden behind my shirt. My fingers traces the circular bond dangling in my chest.
It was our wedding ring.
Becky gaved it back before she left Thailand, she place it on her bedside table with a letter under it. My fingers rubbed the cold metal as my eyes darted at the memories four years ago.
Flashback
I was sitting on the porch watching the pouring rain hitting the windows, my legs cross over each other and a book resting on the table. It was storming, the sky outside was dull and dark while it shred a silent cries. On the kitchen was Becky, cooking something to warm our stomachs from the freezing atmosphere.
She was humming. Singing even. I can hear her angelic voice from afar, her sweet melody added to the perfect ambiance i've been embracing. Then suddenly, the humming stop indicating that she is busy doing something else. Just as I flip the page to the next, her voice elided in the porch.
"Freen?" I heard her footsteps, probably looking for me.
"In here." I replied, my eyes are glued to the book i've been reading.
"We should uh—eat now."
"I'll be there soon." She only nodded in response before going back to the kitchen. Placing my book neatly back on the shelves, I stumbled upon a journal tuck in between my books.
The Life of Rebecca Patricia Armstrong
It was hers, it was decorated with vintage flowers and a beautiful calligraphy was sculpted on it's cover page that I doubted she made herself because her penmanship is terrible. Very terrible.
YOU ARE READING
Bewitching Rebecca Patricia Armstrong (GP)
General Fiction"Is she mine?" Freen asked with shaky hands watching the little kid playing on the playground. Her hair cascade on her shoulders, her eyes were brown, Freen's brown ones and her prominent nose is as of Becky's. Becky glared at Freen, her anger ragi...
