Loud Love

|| three ||

Shailene

Oh dear God. I close my eyes, images from years ago flooding through brain with such force I'm worried I might pass out.

He's standing right there, right there.
And he's talking to me, the women's who's heart he shattered, cheated on, stopped loving. Ruined.

"Shailene, how are you?"

That question makes me nearly leap at his throat, it makes me nearly lose all my self control right here and now.

How dare he ask me how I am . . .

He broke me, he broke me, and now he's harassing my best friend, and he has the audacity to ask me how I am.

What on earth does he expect me to say? That I've been doing fine? That I'm 'crumbling' without him?
Fuck that; no matter how much my heart yearns for his touch, his love, I will not show him what he's done to me. I'm not that weak.

It took me three years to get to the point where I can hear the songs he loved, or look at his spot on the bed, without crying. To glance at his sister's Instagram without seeing him, in every photo of her. It's taken me three years to at least feel somewhat normal.

Yet, he's about to destroy all my progress, all my work, with a simple question, in a simple breath.

Breathe . . . Just breathe.

I exhale, and slowly open my eyelids, focusing especially hard to make sure they'd don't stray to Theo— which I know will be inevitable.

"Zö?" I call out, hoping she can hear me through the door.

"Shai! Oh Shailene, come to the door please?"

I stand up, and nearly stumble again when he locks eyes with me.

So much for not looking at him.

I cringe, my ankle slightly burning, but I know it's nothing serious. My heart hurts more anyway.

I thought I could finally get his beautiful face out of my mind . . .but no, it's been imprinted in my brain again, for me to think about for hours before bed.

After a few steps, I'm beside them. His fingertips brush my arm, and I yank it away, breathing shakily. I know I'll remember the way his calloused fingers touched my arm, leaving invisible scars worse than the ones on my wrist and thighs. I'll remember it for hours on end, in my spare time, when I'm reading, when my mind wanders to somewhere that's supposed to be somewhat happy.

I take a slow blink, and Miles ushers Theo away from me— thank the Lord for Miles.

"Zöe come on out now," I whisper, just waiting for the first tear to fall, my first sign of weakness.
I'm sick to my stomach, knowing what he did, knowing that he's in my presence again.  Knowing that he's touched my clean flesh, once again.

The door knob twists, and my best friend slips through the crack that's opened.

She sighs when she sees me, and I bite my lip as a nervous habit. Zöe's known me for a long time, she's knows what I look like before I break down. Before I lose control again; I don't want to lose control, but right now, it seems unlikely that I'll be able to keep my self in check.

"Okay let's go," she says hurriedly, but I stay planted where I am. Move dumbass, my mind insists, but my heart is screaming for me to say something!