The After Effect || short story series: book #1

4.

But when the smoke cleared, and I was left to pick up the mess, I realized that the after effect was the worst part of it all because nothing would ever be the same again.

It was true.

Somehow, he had managed to take pieces of her that only she let him see, so even if she did glue herself back together, there would be voids only he could unrightfully fill.

But he didn't know that.

All he knew was that he fucked up this one girl, out of many before her.

It was just too easy to text a bunch of other girls while she remained oblivious to the fact.

Temptation drove him to the edge, but he was smart to pull back before the cracks underneath him became too much.

At least that's what he thought.

Throughout the day she checked for any missed messages, and at night it became a race between him and sleep. She was anxious, worried- confused as to why he would come and go; the wait being longer than the stay.

So she did it.

She signed in.

She read the messages.

No matter how hard I tried to push away the reality, and live in denial to the uttermost painful truth that I was forced to face, his apologies only reminded me of why they were said in the first place.

He didn't mean to hurt her the way he did. Actually, he still didn't know how bad it really hurt her.

He didn't know about the countless questions that began to flood her mind at night, prohibiting her from sleep because all she thought about, were all the qualities she must have been missing that caused him to go find what she lacked in someone else.

All he had wanted was to fill his own voids; fix his own pieces. He would never intentionally harm the person whom he had handed most of his trust to; the person who gave him sanity in her own crazy ways.

It was all just one fucked up move he wished he wouldn't have taken. He left spaces open, and all too soon he lost the game.

His clammy hands slid down his face before they ran through his hair, some of them sticking to his hands before he scrolled down a bit more.

It was late and he was tired, but he couldn't stop reading his mistakes.