The Fixer Upper

-énas-

A huge grin is spread across my face, and my excitement threatens to bubble over and make me squeal. The lady at the counter smiles happily at me, stashing the recently signed adoption papers in a file behind her workspace.

"Thank you for adopting!" she says. Her features are relaxed, knowing that she has one less animal that she might have to transport to a kill-shelter.

My little fur baby yawns in my arms, her floppy ears bent backward on her head as she dozes off comfortably in my arms. "Of course," I say, scratching Turanga behind her soft, caramel ears. "Have a nice day."

The door chimes as I exit and a few dogs bark from the inside of their cages. I smile sadly at them, knowing I can't possibly afford, or take care of all the dogs in the shelter.

My face turns upwards toward the cloudy sky. Looks like rain, I think to myself. I tuck Turanga into my long coat to keep her warm and dry. A cheesy grin once again spreads across my face as I think of how happy my long-term boyfriend, Axel, will be to have a little puppy running around our apartment.

The day I met him, I saw him in the dog park, walking several dogs. I laugh, remembering how odd it looked to see him giving one of the dogs a stern talking to, as if the dog understood him, and would consider behaving better later. I had walked over to pet one of the smaller, more scared looking pups and jokingly asked him how he owned so many dogs and took care of them with so much patience. His witty responses to my inquiries became one of the many things that I came to love about him.

We had hit it off immediately, and even after that first conversation, I was hooked on his wild mass of black hair and his forever rosy cheeks that hid deep-set, piercing grey eyes. His sense of humor had me grappling for new, even kinda funny stories, just to hear his throaty chuckle and see the cute little indention in his right cheek.

I smile at the memory as I walk up the two flights of stairs to our adorable apartment. I pull my key out of my jacket pocket and shove it in the lock, balancing Turanga in my right arm. The door swings open silently, and I shuffle inside the tiny hallway. Turanga yawns and opens her chocolate brown eyes at me, blinking sleepily. She cocks her head, and her ears lift. I look questioningly at her and listen for what she might be hearing.

My stomach drops when I hear moans. Not just Axel's, but also a female's. He's just watching a video, I chant to myself as I creep toward our bedroom. I nudge the door open a crack, not wanting to intrude in case he was just watching a video. What I see causes my eyes to water and my bottom lip to quiver.

My Axel and some random lady are caressing and smiling fondly at each other. The loving look that my Axel gives the woman reminds me so closely of the look that he gives me, whenever we are in the same position. The similarities are too much, so I press my back against the hallway wall and stifle an ugly sob with my left hand.

Turanga seems to notice my discomfort, and wiggles in my arms, trying to lick my face. She emits a high-pitched whine, and the moaning abruptly ceases. The woman whispers something to Axel, and the bed creaks, alerting me of the fact that Axel was probably stalking cautiously toward the door.

Just like he did for me, whenever I couldn't sleep, afraid that someone was creeping around our home.

I don't even lift my slouched figure as the door swings open. Axel's naked form in the corner of my eye makes me shake, a silent sob wracking through my body.

Axel groans, this time not in ecstasy, but in defeat. "Ave, I didn't mean for this to happen."

Sure, you didn't, I thought bitterly. "Just leave," I say, my voice cracking.

"Ava, let me explain-" He tries, pathetically, to insist.

"I said leave!" My voice, strong with anger, seems to tell him that I was not messing around. Turanga growls at the duo as they pass by and I smile weakly at her, proud of my baby's bravery.

He apologizes and ushers the lady through our doorway, the one that we frequently made out in the middle of, and sends me one last pitiful look before shutting the door forcefully, making my blood boil and my chest hurt at the same time. There was a feeling of finality in that sound that made me hurt worse, if even possible.

How could he do this to me? To us?

My head hits the wall forcefully and fat tears roll down my cheeks. Turanga whines louder and licks at my cheeks. The warmth of her small form does nothing to reverse the effects of the coldness spreading through my body.

I sigh and smooth down her ruffled fur, letting out all my grief by wailing like an infant.

I cry because of the betrayal I felt, towards both Axel, my lover of three years, and Aphrodite, the goddess who supposedly loved and looked after me. I cry because he was there when I got my first real job, and when I signed for this very apartment that we lived and loved in. I cry because this exact situation has happened before, and I keep falling for it. I cry because of what a fool I had been, to think that Axel loved me, to think that Aphrodite truly cared for me.

At some point, I start to hiccup, and my cheeks start to burn as result of my futile, repeated attempts to clear my skin of liquid.

Just as my wails begin to subside, my phone rings loudly in my pocket. I consider ignoring it, thinking that it might be Axel, begging for me to hear him out. I stupidly think twice, though, and answer it.

"Ava, are you all right? Axel said that I should call you!" My mother's worried voice practically shouts at me through the phone.

"I'm fine, mom," I tried to sound convincing, I really did, but the way my voice cracked and wavered practically made my mom have a fit.

"I can tell that you aren't! What happened? Do you need me to come over?" Her questions fly through the receiver back to back, not giving me a chance to answer any of them.

"No mom, I just want to be alone," I murmur.

My mom sighs dramatically, "Alright, but tell me if you need anything, okay? I'm always here for you."

"Okay, momma. I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." There is a brief moment of silence before my phone blinks once, signaling the end of the call.

I slide my phone in my back pocket and stand up, walking over to our- no, my bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and internally shook my head.

I knew what I was going to look like. A mess. I always look this way after a breakup, because they are never easy. I always end up being cheated on.

What makes men want to do that to me though? Am I annoying? Am I too naïve; do I just easily fall for their charm?

My long, messy, golden hair falls down my back in tangled knots. My soft brown eyes, puffy and red, stare sadly at me. My usually smiling cheeks are deflated, and my full lips are turned down.

I look terrible. And I always do, after a breakup. I'm honestly so tired of getting my heart broken. I know I don't deserve it.

Maybe I should just give up dating and focus on the more stable things in life, like my career.

I vow to myself that, no matter how charming the man, I will resist, and only have him as a friend. I deserve as much.

No more heartbreak.