Blair O'Connor was the life of every party-popular, fearless, and always the center of attention. But behind the perfect image was an abusive boyfriend who slowly stripped away the girl she used to be.
After finally breaking free, Blair transfers...
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By the time it was over, I lay still, staring blankly at the ceiling, my body aching in ways I hadn't anticipated. My muscles throbbed, the sharp pain between my legs radiating with each breath I took, but it was the weight on my chest that was worse. The room was suffocatingly quiet, except for the sound of my shallow, ragged breaths.
Connor had already rolled over, turning his back to me like nothing had happened. No words. No lingering touch. He'd just fallen asleep, leaving me alone with this overwhelming sense of emptiness.
I waited—hoped, even—that something would change, that maybe after a few minutes the pain would dull, or I'd feel that connection everyone talks about. But nothing came. No relief, no comfort, just pain—deep, physical and emotional, spreading through me like a slow burn. The dull ache in my body was nothing compared to the hollow feeling swelling in my chest, wrapping tighter and tighter around my heart until I thought I might suffocate from it.
I wanted to say something, to tell him how much it hurt, but the words felt stuck in my throat. The tears welled up in my eyes, but I bit my lip hard to stop them from falling. Crying wouldn't fix this, and somehow, I knew Connor wouldn't care even if I did. He had gotten what he wanted.
Was this what he meant by "moving forward"? Was this what being in a relationship felt like—this emptiness, this aching loneliness? I didn't know, but I hated it. I hated that I'd given in, that I'd let him push me into something I wasn't ready for. I hated that I couldn't undo it, couldn't take back what I had lost.
Morning came far too soon. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, and when I turned over, Connor was already gone. The bed was cold on his side, the sheets rumpled where he'd slept, but he wasn't there. No goodbye, no text, no note.
Just... gone.
I sat up slowly, every movement sending fresh waves of pain through my body. I winced, my hand instinctively pressing against my sore side, but it didn't matter. Everything hurt, but what hurt most was how easily he'd left, how little it seemed to mean to him. Last night had meant nothing to him. Just another moment, another thing to cross off his list.
I dressed in silence, pulling my wrinkled black dress back over my sore body, the fabric that had once made me feel beautiful now clinging uncomfortably to me like a second skin I didn't want to wear. With every step, I felt smaller, shrinking further into myself, like I was collapsing from the inside out.
By the time I made it home and walked through the front door, I felt numb. Completely hollow. The house was quiet—thank God for that—and I slipped up the stairs without anyone noticing. I didn't want to be noticed. I didn't want to talk, to explain. I didn't even know how to begin.
In my room, I shut the door softly, the familiar creak of the wood grounding me for a brief second. I sank onto the edge of my bed, staring down at the floor as the weight of what had just happened pressed down on me. My hands trembled in my lap as I sat there, trying to figure out how I'd let everything spiral so far out of control. How I'd let him convince me, coerce me, until I didn't recognize myself anymore.
I wanted to cry, to scream, to feel something,anything, but instead, I sat there in the silence, feeling nothing but the ache deep inside me.
———————————————— A/N IM SORRY FOR HOW MUCH C*NNOR'S IN THIS BUT I PROMISE HE'LL BE GONE - Lia 💋
