Games Of Hearts

37. Missing Hours

As I stood in the kitchen, the aroma of Eva's favorite dish wafted through the air, but my excitement was short-lived. She had mentioned earlier that she was going out with a friend for lunch, and now I was left to enjoy the meal alone. I sighed, feeling a pang of disappointment.

Just then, the door knob twisted, and Eva walked in, her expression drained of all energy. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tears welled up in them as she gazed at me. I immediately sensed that something was wrong.

I reached out to her, concern etched on my face. "Eva, what's wrong?" I asked, my voice soft and gentle.

She looked up at me, her eyes locking onto mine, and whispered, "You."

I felt a jolt of confusion and alarm. "What do you mean?" I asked, but she didn't respond. Instead, she walked towards the chair, her movements mechanical, like a robot.

"Eva, talk to me," I called out to her, but she didn't acknowledge me. She picked up her bag and started to walk away, her eyes fixed on some distant point.

I quickly moved to stop her, holding onto her bag. "Eva, where are you going?" I asked, my voice firm but gentle.

But she didn't answer. She pulled her bag free and continued walking, leaving me standing there, feeling helpless and confused.

She continued packing her clothes with a sense of urgency, her movements swift and determined. I watched in growing unease as she grabbed another bag, the one we had brought from her house yesterday. My instincts screamed at me to stop her, to confront her about what was happening.

"Eva, wait!" My voice was low and menacing, a warning that I was reaching my limit.

But she ignored me, her back still turned. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the stiffness in her posture.

I strode towards her, my footsteps heavy with purpose. I grabbed her arm, my grip firm, and spun her around to face me.

"Where are you going?" I demanded, my voice barely above a growl.

Her eyes flashed up to mine, a mix of fear and defiance in their depths. But she didn't answer. Instead, she tried to wriggle free from my grasp, her movements frantic.

I held tight, my fingers digging into her skin. "Tell me, Eva," I snarled, my patience wearing thin. "What's going on?"

But she just shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears. And in that moment, I knew I was losing her.

"I'm breaking up with you," she said, her eyes locked on mine with a fierce determination.

My grip on her arm tightened, my mind reeling in shock. "That's not gonna happen," I growled, trying to hold on to her.

But she struggled to free herself, her eyes flashing with anger. "It already happened, now leave me," she spat, her voice venomous.

I loosened my grip, my mind racing with questions. "Why?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral.

She took a step back, her eyes blazing with accusation. "You're using me like other girls, use and discard is your thing. It's every boy's thing, boys should not be even trusted."

Her words cut deep, and I felt a sting of guilt. "What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to defend myself.

But she wasn't having it. "I should've known this when I first saw you on my birthday and how you used your fake name and kissed me. We were so ready to sleep on my birthday, if your identity wasn't released then..."

Her words trailed off, but the damage was done. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut, my breath knocked out of me. I knew I had to make things right, but I didn't know where to start.