A Fatal Passion Forged In Black ~Motionless In White

~ Chapter 36 ~

Abigail's POV

-

Chris and Ryan leave sometime around two in the morning, and while I watch the door close behind them, I feel completely empty inside. I hate him. I hate Ricky for leaving me like this, betraying me. But I don't hate him. I can't. I still love him with every fiber of my being, and it will always be that way. That's why it hurts so much. To know the one you love just threw you to the wind. Saying it hurts is a complete understatement. It nearly fucking kills me. I feel so alone, so heartbroken. My chest feels like it weighs one hundred pounds. It doesn't stop, the pain, it's persistent, unending.

I stare at myself in the mirror for what feels like hours, but is most likely just a few seconds. I stare at the broken girl in the mirror, I hardly recognize her, I'm not sure who she is anymore. I feel completely detached from my body. After awhile I snap back to reality and brush my teeth. I mindlessly walk back into the bedroom and without changing, climb into bed, staring at the ceiling.

***

My alarm goes off at 6:00 am, but I'm already awake. I didn't sleep. At all. I slowly walk into the bathroom like a zombie turning on the shower and cringing at the reflection in the mirror. My face is pale, deep, dark circles surround my eyes as well as what's left of my mascara from yesterday. My messy hair tangled up into the small bun on top of my head. I look like absolute shit. I take it down and brush it out with my fingers before removing my clothes and stepping into the shower. I stare at the shower wall, my mind completely shut off until I notice the water going cold. I quickly wash my hair and body and shut off the water.

Once my hair is dry, I straighten it and walk into my room, stepping into my bright red, sleeveless dress that comes down just above my knees. My face still looks horrendous, thank god for makeup. I prime my face, then add foundation, concealer, contour, a light amount of blush to hopefully make me look a bit less undead, highlight, eyeliner and mascara before finally filling in my eyebrows. I slip on a rose gold Michael Kors watch and pull on some tan pumps with red bottoms. I stand in front of the full length mirror, giving myself a once over. God, I look different. Not bad. I throw my phone and keys into my black purse, pulling my luggage behind me as I make my way to the door. I open the door, looking behind me for a moment before going out and locking it behind me.

When I open the doors out of the apartment building, I just barley notice the limousine in front of me. The window rolls down, revealing my coworker Josh's face.

"Need a ride?" He beams and I smile back at him. I nod, laughing slightly and he hops out, helping me put my bag in the car. He holds the door for me and I quietly thank him. I sit between him and Rebecca, Mr. Parente on her other side. He politely greets me and I do the same.

"So how are things between you and Ricky?" She nearly whispers.

I just frown at the ground and shake my head lightly and she gives me an apologetic smile and the we'll-talk-later look. The subject is changed quickly and I am thankful. Angelo and Josh are in some deep discussion about marketing or some shit, but neither Becca or I are listening. I notice her glancing at Mr. Parente, and him glancing at her every so often. I look over to see them holding hands, I wonder if they're together. Why hasn't she said anything to me?

We arrive at the airport shortly, getting through security quickly, and head to our correct flight number. Our flight is called about ten minutes after us sitting down and we head on, handing the flight attendant lady our tickets. Becca and I are seated together, Josh and Angelo behind us.

When we are comfortably seated and a flight attendant speaks, Becca brings up the question that I was dreading.

"So did anything else happen between you and Ricky?" She questions.

"Well, last night, I had a couple of friends over and he walked in. He thought I left already, so I guess that's why he came," I say shakily.

"Did he say anything?"

"He wanted to talk to me," I respond quietly.

"How'd he look?" She asks.

"Terrible, he looked like he hasn't slept in years."

"Wow," she says, thinking. "When he slept with that girl, I don't think it meant anything. I'm not trying to defend what he done, hell, I don't even know the guy, but I think he's sorry, I really do. You two loved each other, I could tell by the way you talked about him. If he doesn't feel bad for what he did, he wouldn't have been the way you say he was last night," she says thoughtfully. I think about everything she just said, it's everything I want to believe but can't.

"Are you saying that I should forgive him?" I ask.

"No, not exactly. I'm just saying that maybe you should think about talking to him about the situation, if he still wants to. At least hear what he has to say, maybe just for some closer?" She says in more of a question than a statement.

"I'll think about it," I say after a moment and she nods slightly.

A few minutes into the flight, I feel myself getting drowsy, and prop my head up against the window and get the sleep I desperately need.