BROKEN VOWS

Chapter Twenty Three. Fate is one cruel son of a bitch!

Rainbow's POV.

I gazed at the stranger before me, curiosity etched on my face. "How are you so cheerful and not angry at the world?" I asked, my tone was genuine.

He let out a hearty chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and took a sip of his coffee. "Oh, believe me, I was a powdered keg of anger and resentment for a very long time," he said, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia.

"I would lash out at anyone who crossed me, making rude comments about people's appearance and snapping at those who dared to question my actions." His gaze locked onto mine, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and regrets.

"I lost everything that truly mattered to me - my job, my family, and my home," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Nobody wants to be around a sarcastic, angry person, no matter how hurt they are." He let out a sad, mirthless laugh. "It took me two years of anger management classes and a steady stream of antidepressants to manage my depression and anxiety. But I got through it, and I'm in a better place now."

He maintained a serious gaze, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made me feel seen. Yet, his smile remained, a gentle, encouraging curve of his lips.

"Fate can be one cruel son of a bitch, pardon my French. But you have to learn to forgive yourself for what you didn't know, okay?" he said, his voice softening.

I felt a lump form in my throat as I absorbed his words. There was something about his story, something about the way he'd rebuilt himself from the ashes of his past, that resonated deeply with me. I sighed, feeling a sense of hurt mixed with curiosity, before asking him...

"Will it ever stop hurting?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. He froze, his hand hovering over his coffee mug, and smiled sadly. The expression was a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability, a crack in the armor of his usual cheerful demeanor.

"I'll let you know when it does," he replied, his voice low and introspective.

As he lifted his coffee mug to his lips, he took a slow, deliberate sip, his eyes drifting towards the café entrance. His gaze turned inward, his focus lost in the distance. For the first time since we'd started talking, I saw a deep sadness etched on his face, a haunting melancholy that seemed to whisper secrets only he could hear. The café's bustling atmosphere receded into the background, leaving only the two of us, suspended in a moment of shared understanding.

I'd fled Hunter's place in a blur of tears and doubts, my mind reeling from the revelations about my existence. The weight of the truth was crushing me, and I couldn't bear the thought of returning to my empty house. So, I'd set out into the evening, hoping to clear my head with a walk. But the skies had other plans, and a relentless rain had begun to pour down just ten minutes into my stroll.

Seeking refuge, I'd ducked into a quaint little café, its warm lights and cozy atmosphere a welcoming respite from the storm. That's where I met him – Thomas, a kindred spirit who, like me, had known his share of hardships. Our meeting was nothing short of serendipitous, a chance encounter that felt almost fated.

At first, I'd been hesitant to open up to this stranger, but there was something about Thomas's gentle demeanor and empathetic ears that put me at ease. As he shared his own story of struggle and resilience, I found myself spilling my secrets, too – the doubts, the fears, the uncertainties that had been plaguing me. It was as if the universe had brought us together in this moment, two souls bound by our shared experiences of pain and perseverance.

Thomas towered above me, his six-foot-plus frame commanding attention. His fiery red hair was flecked with threads of silver, a testament to his middle age. But it was his piercing green eyes that truly held my gaze - eyes that had seen the depths of pain and betrayal.