westward grove

ten

The next two weeks were unbearably stressful. Whether it be planning Zayn and Niall's wedding, arguing with Normani, or resisting the urge to give into temptation and try something with Lauren, I was constantly under pressure.

After I told Normani I was going out for a while and didn't return for over twenty four hours, shit hit the fan. I deserved it, though. She was still my girlfriend, and as my girlfriend she had every right to be outraged over some of behaviors. The constant cold remarks and useless fighting was what got to me. She was being a bitch just to prove that she could be. It didn't even seem as though she was mad about my disappearance anymore, just angry in general. I think sensed that our relationship coming to an end and didn't know what to do.

I sat in the living room while Normani, as usual, talked at me. She wasn't irritated, but her tone was still a bit harsh.

I hadn't been listening for a while, as I found that life was a lot more tolerable when I zoned out. I'd been staring at an ugly lamp that we had in the corner of our apartment for at least six minutes. The more I looked at it, the uglier it got. I was perfectly content looking at the light source until I felt a sharp pain. "You're not even fucking listening to me!"

The palm of Normani's left hand collided with my right cheek in a hard, swift movement. I'd never been hit before, let alone by my girlfriend. The entire right side of my face burned. I was taken aback by the sudden action, but couldn't say I was all that surprised.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Camila!" Normani exclaimed, hopping down on the couch next to me. "I'm so fucking sorry. I have no idea why I just fucking did that. Fuck, Camila."

Normani reached out to touch my cheek but I swatted her hand away. "I'm done." I informed her quietly.

"What?" She asked quickly.

"I'm breaking up with you." I reiterated, more blunt. I had no desire to stay together any longer. Domestic abuse is a serious problem and I had no intention of subjecting myself to it.

Normani went from looking scared to confused and enraged in a couple seconds flat. "You're fucking with me, right?" I shook my head. She stood up from the couch and stared down at me. "No, you're not doing this."

I stood up as well. Normani had at least two inches and thirty pounds on me, but I wasn't intimidated in the least. "I can, and I am." I told her before heading out of the living room.

Normani stayed close behind, following me into our bedroom. I opened the closet and dug around through piles of clothes until I felt a backpack. The bag had $2,000 in cash, my passport, and various other things I needed for situations like this. I'd had it stored away for over a year, though, the $2,000 was a new edition. I quickly stuffed the dress I was wearing to Zayn and Niall's wedding in the bag in case I didn't have the opportunity to return home to get it.

"You fucking bitch." Normani growled as I pulled my bag out of the closet. "You've been waiting to leave, haven't you?"

I shrugged. "This is an all purpose getaway bag. It wouldn't be very beneficial in the apocalypse, but it does fine in situations like this.

She scoffed, but still followed me. Once we were near the door, she moved in front of me. Her demeanor had changed once again. "Listen, Camila. I'm really sorry. Don't leave over one mistake." She pleaded.

"One mistake?" I asked rhetorically, still moving towards the door. "You've made more than just one mistake, Normani."

"This is fucked," Normani snarled. "You're the love of my life, you know that? You don't just get to leave like this."

"You've never treated me like the love of your life." I retorted.

I turned around, completely ready to just leave on that note. I was practically out the door when Normani pushed me against the wall, using all of her strength to pin me against it. I wasn't sure whether she was actually going to do something or was just trying to freak me out.