The Devil's Trail

49- Your Phoenix

I could instantly name one thing I hate in this world. In probably less than 3 seconds flat, and that's half assed apologies.

Much like the one leaving Zak's mouth as he says sorry but doesn't really mean it. Even as he asks me to explain it to him again, I know he doesn't really give a shit and find myself ignoring him because;

1- I'm childish.
2- His apology is pathetic
3- He doesn't mean it.
4- What is the point?

Number four was a little more complex than what's the point, as if it's a lazy approach. No. It's more of the fact that he didn't care enough to listen to me the first time, why would he when I repeated it again? If anything he had just shown me the same support I received from the police all those years ago. - Next to none.

"Delilah, come on." He urged as I laid on the bed, my hand protectively over the wound in my stomach as I tried to sleep.

Sleep seemed to work for everything. lie. It was simply an excuse for him to stop with the grovelling.

"Babe, I'm sorry—"

"Shove your apology. You don't mean it. So why say it?" I ask as silence fills the room. "Exactly."

I turn my back to him and hear his heavy sigh "You know what, I'm going to the museum. You have this pity party sulk."

His words make me grit my teeth. Playing the victim and having a pity party. He just doesn't know when to stop. Does he?

The fake sleep manages to pull me into a nap and I wake up two hours later to an empty house. He even took Gracie...

Shaking my head, I walked around the lounge for a few minutes, working out what I could do when it dawned on me.

Heading up into the office, I plunked myself down in the chair and began writing. My hand ached as I gripped the pen tightly as I wrote out my letter before finally finishing it off and slamming the pen down.

Taking a breath, I felt a slight ease in my body. Signalling that I'm moving in the right direction.

It wasn't an easy decision, but one that was more than likely needed. Okay it was definitely needed.

He didn't understand and that's okay, really it is. Because this, none of this is his problem, it's mine. I have to deal with it and it is my choice if I pursue with charges against Randy. But my evidence is almost nonexistent, I couldn't prove he had done it with his belt, he more than likely had a new belt by now, so all evidence of traces of blood and there would be blood , would be gone. My word against his.

So as I packed my bag of little stuff I had, I cast my eyes over the bedroom, remembering all those little moments we had in here, those lip biting, toe curling hours spent beneath the sheets..

I had come to love him, with every morsel in my body, but he thinks I'm playing this all for sympathy, for pity.. How can I be with anyone who thinks that of me?

It's simple. I can't.

+++

Eating humble pie was never a favourite thing of mine. In fact, I hated to do it...

Standing on Poppy's doorstep, I knocked and waited. Trying to work a sense of apology in my mind because the last time I seen her, I was short, curt and sometimes just plan rude.

So you can imagine my surprise when she pulled back the door and grinned "Delilah! How are you?"

"G-good. You?"