Crashed Into a Gangster

61

Victoria

Tonight, my body is heavy, muscles weak and nearly unmanageable to pull myself out of bed. I slept rough, for a mere three hours, yesterday night.

As much as I wanted to keep dozing off and forget about what happened yesterday, to forget about him, I couldn't. I couldn't keep his taunting words from entering my mind.

I was the reminder he got of why he doesn't put love first. And that crushes me.

I thought about the last words he spoke, before he walked out of my bedroom - the sight flashing into my mind like an endless nightmare. My vexed state of mind when it came to decision making is why he walked away. But when I gave my final answer is when I hurt him. I hurt myself, even.

And the mere absence of him, his masculinity, his aura, returns in cruelty by a huge hole in my chest.

I wish I could take back that moment. For him to never walk away from where I stood, engulfed in his overwhelming proximity. I would maybe say something different. Give him the answer that we both needed to hear.

I would tell him how I feel about him, how I feel about him still. I would remind him that I am willing to do what it takes. Even if that comes with the kingdom.

But what has passed cannot be replaced. I said what I said, and I can't change it.

Eventually, throughout my reckoning thoughts my eyelids finally become heavy enough to close. I feel the thoughts that I never thought would leave me be begin to drift away - and I finally enter in an abyss.

--

My brown hair is slightly damp under my fingertips as I pull the wavy strands back into a bun. While hopping down my porch steps, I decide to vesture my favorite pair of sun glasses as I make my way to my car.

Although I breathe in the warm Spring air, and as the hot wavering sun casts heat on my shoulders, coldness still spreads within me - my chest heavy and guilt still manages to claim it's territory in my gut.

You got this, Victoria. What is it they always say? Keep calm and carry on. Or is it keep calm and keep thinking of Rio...

I shake my head instantly, ridding my inner thoughts. Getting into my car, I turn on the ignition and the engine comes to life. Gripping the steering wheel, my knuckles white, I back up out of my driveway and head in the direction of the highway to reach my destination.

Now at the stop sign of my street, I hear my buzzer go off on my phone. I plunge it out from my purse, to see that it's Ann calling, and I answer.

"Where are you going?" My sister starts over the line before I could even speak. Instantly, my brows furrow in perplexity.

"Ann? I just left my house, how do you know I'm leaving?" I ask, grasping my cell up to my ear as I focus ahead, turning onto another street.

"I'm right behind you," She answers, and I check by my rear view mirror - spotting her small rustic vehicle trailing behind. "I was gonna stop by your place, then I saw your car cruising down the road. Guess there won't be any pretzels for me this morning." She explains in a murmur.

I playfully roll my puffy eyes. "Pretzels? You can easily get your own pretzels at the store, Ann." I say.

I hear my sister sigh exasperatingly over the line. "Listen, chick. I don't know how many times I gotta tell ya. Every pretzel that goes into my mouth has your peanut butter on it. That peanuty delight is one of a kind, sis. Superstore doesn't sell it, believe me, I checked." She explains.