Fucked up.
I felt the tears streaming down my face uncontrollably as I shoved clothes and all the belongings I needed into a spare suitcase I often used. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I left the restaurant, but I'd spent a good amount of time crying my eyes out before coming up with the idea to pack up and leave.
After everything we'd done together, Oscar wanted someone else.
It was fine. I'd expected this. The moment I saw her she was pretty. It was written all over her face. She was prettier, she had better knowledge. I didn't understand what about her personality was good.
After all that we went through. Completely wasted.
The bedroom door opened. No doubt it was Oscar. "Liv..." I needed someone to hold me, besides him. He'd hurt me too much. I ignored him and continued to fold some of the clothes to save more space.
"I need to talk. Please. I still need to explain some things to you if you'd just listen. PLEASE." I could hear the desperate tone in his voice. But I didn't want to listen.
"Fuck off. You did what you had to do. You love her. No problem," I said, zipping up my suitcase and sitting on the bed, taking everything in before I left for the last time.
"I don't fucking love her. I love you, Liv. Please, just listen to me," Oscar pleaded, guilt all over his face. "Julia kissed me first. She tricked me into doing it. Trust me."
" 'Julia kissed me first.' " I mocked him. "That's what all cheaters say, Oscar. There's no other way to say this, but I already said it at the restaurant, not going to repeat it again. It's over. We're over."
"She did! I promise you, Liv. I swear on my goddamn life she kissed me first." Oscar shouted. I wasn't about to trust him anyways. I shook my head sadly before looking at the floor in despair. I guess nothing could really mend us right now, considering what had happened back in the restaurant.
"You broke my fucking heart, Oscar. If you think I'm going to forgive you on the spot, you're an idiot!" His face paled.
"Did I break your heart?" Oscar asked, his voice breaking. I didn't look at him. But he'd certainly gotten the message.
"Slap me."
"Sorry?!" I looked up, shocked.
"Your promise. That day, in Baku." Oscar said, guilt printed across his face.
"Look, I promise you I won't break your heart like he did," Oscar looked at me, sitting on his lap while worrying about our future. "I promise you. If I ever do, slap me and hit me as hard as you can, and remind me about the promise I made, okay?"
"Oscar-"
"Promise me," His eyes had a hopeful glint in them.
"Fine. I promise you I'll slap and hit you as hard as I can if you ever break your promise," I crossed my arms across my chest. "And I'll remind you of the broken promise if you ever do."
"Okay, I trust you, otherwise I'll hit myself, which I much rather you do that to me," Oscar mumbled.
"You have a hitting fetish or what?" I joked.
I gritted my teeth. I'd forgotten about the meaningless promise - I never thought it would happen in the first place. I thought everything would work out. "Oscar..." My voice faltered. Even though we weren't on good terms, I wasn't about to slap him.
"Princess. Come on, you promised me." He spreaded his arms, as if he was welcoming me for a slap in the face and a punch in the chest. "I won't stop you."
