Tattoos: COMPLETED ✔

Epilogue

Jace

On our final days, I felt only five things:

Hurt.

I was more hurt then I let on when I found out she was still paying rent at her old apartment. But I didn't tell her this, instead, I said horrible things to her, so she would hurt worse than I did. And then I read the text he sent her; that was the tipping point.

Regret/guilt.

These feelings go hand in hand. I have never regretted a decision so much in my entire life. I could have walked away, but I let his words get to me; when he told me they were still fucking, I lost it. It felt better than it should have as I pounded into him repeatedly, but when I got home and found her curled up on our bed, it made me sick; how could I have done this to her? The next morning, I cried like a fucking baby. My stomach twisted in disgust for myself when she forgave me so quickly. I wanted to tell her what I did, more than anything, but the words tasted like bile in my throat. And then the guilt set in. The guilt was the worst. It didn't get better with each passing day. It consumed me, inside and out, and it haunted me each waking second. It hit me all at once, and I wasn't prepared for it. It clawed at me day and night; not a second went by when I wasn't thinking about how much I fucked up. It wrapped itself around me. First, around my brain and then around my heart. It squeezed so hard that I thought I was going to burst. At first, I tried to avoid her. That lasted only two days; the guilt was hard, but not being around her was worse. It was utterly selfish, but when I was around her, and she was touching me, loving me, everything felt better, less intense. It got to the point where I didn't want her to leave my side because each time I was away from her, it slowly got harder and harder to breathe, until one day, I felt like I was suffocating; I would call her, I would touch her, she would wrap her body around me and trace my rose, and I could breath. I could just fucking breathe.

Scared.

That was the third thing I felt. I've never had this feeling before, probably because I've never had anything to lose. But she is my everything, and when she finds out what I did, she will leave me. And the thought of her leaving me was so scary that I lied to her. Over and over and over again. Each lie got easier to tell, but along with that came more guilt, but at least she was still here.

Love.

This was the fourth thing I felt. Love. I fucking loved this girl, but it wasn't until she was leaving me did I realize this. I fucking loved her so much that it hurt, and I would do anything to keep her... to fix this. I told her this only to have her say she doesn't feel the same, and that broke me.

Empty.

I don't think this even a feeling. But that's the only thing I can use to describe how I am inside. I am fucking empty. I feel absolutely nothing.

My angel is gone, and I feel nothing.

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AUTHORS NOTE: vote and comment if you liked book 1 in the Tattoo series! Until I start posting my second book check out: This Isn't A Love Story, This Is A Hate Story (in Xander's point of view).