Drunk In Love (Crushing Hard Series Book 3)

Dear Dairy: 07/07/2019

Sunday.

I went to look at the new place today. And you know what? I love it. Yes, it's small—a studio apartment, barely enough space to twirl around without bumping into something—but it’s mine. All mine. The idea of having a space that’s just for me feels like a breath of fresh air after all the chaos of the last few months. It’s got these big windows that let in tons of natural light, and the view is kind of perfect. I could see myself sitting by the window with a cup of coffee, watching the world go by. It's my little piece of peace.

After the viewing, I headed back to my mom's place. It was raining—a slow, steady drizzle that felt soothing, like the world was washing itself clean. I curled up in my old room, reading a book while my mom cooked in the kitchen. The smell of stew filled the house, and everything felt so... safe. Familiar. For the first time in a while, I felt content. Happy, even.

Then Kevin showed up.

I was completely caught off guard. We hadn't spoken in months—no texts, no calls, just radio silence. So, when I heard the doorbell ring and my mom’s voice call out, “Thandi! Kevin’s here,” my stomach dropped. What was he doing here? But when I walked into the living room, there he was. Looking good, too. Better than I expected. His brown curls were cropped short, his jaw clean-shaven, and those warm brown eyes that used to be my safe place... they were on me. He looked at me like I was something he’d been missing, like he’d forgotten just how much he cared until that moment.

"Hey, Thandi," he said softly, almost like he was testing the waters.

"Kevin," I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral, but my heart was beating a little too fast.

Apparently, he had called my mom before showing up. She didn’t seem surprised by his visit at all. In fact, she’d already invited him inside and offered him some food. Typical. My mom always liked him, even after everything. I excused myself to go put on something decent—a part of me wishing I didn’t care how I looked in front of him. But I did. As I changed, I took a deep breath, trying to brace myself for whatever this was.

When I came back out, Kevin was sitting at the kitchen table, looking a little nervous. He stood up when he saw me, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was unsure of himself.

“I came to apologize, Thandi,” he started. “For everything. For how I handled things... for how I handled us.”

I folded my arms, leaning against the doorway. “It’s been months, Kevin. Why now?”

“I had to figure some things out. I know that’s no excuse for how I left things with you. I... I wasn’t fair to you. And I’m sorry. Truly.”

His eyes were searching mine, and for a moment, I almost believed he’d come back to fix things. But then my mom chimed in from the kitchen, “I’ll speak to your dad and have him return Kevin's lobola money, Thandi. It’s only fair.”

Kevin waved his hand, shaking his head. “No, ma. Please, I don’t want it back. I didn’t come here for that.”

I felt a strange twist in my stomach when he said that. Lobola... marriage...

My mom, sensing the tension, patted my arm gently before retreating to the other room, leaving us alone. The silence between us stretched, filled with all the words that had been left unsaid for so long.

Kevin was the first to break it. “You look good, Thandi,” he said, his voice soft. “Really good.”

“Thanks,” I said, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. I didn’t know what to say to him. What do you say to someone who broke your heart?

“Have you met anyone?” His question caught me off guard. I blinked at him, trying to understand why that mattered to him.

“That’s none of your business, Kevin,” I replied, but then I added, “No. I haven’t.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes studying me like he was trying to memorize my face. “I just... you’re too amazing, you know? I don’t know how you’re still single. Pretty soon, someone’s going to sweep you off your feet, and you’ll be off the market.”

I laughed, but it sounded bitter, even to my own ears. “That’s funny, considering I thought you were the guy to do that.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. And that’s something I’ll regret for the rest of my life.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. A part of me wanted to forgive him, to let him off the hook, but another part of me was still angry. Hurt.

He cleared his throat, and his tone shifted. “I wanted to tell you... I’m leaving, Thandi. For good this time. I’m moving abroad for my job, permanently.”

I froze. My heart felt like it had skipped a beat. This was it. The real end. No more wondering if we might bump into each other at some point. No more “what ifs.” He was really leaving.

“I see,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I just... I couldn’t leave without seeing you one last time,” he said. “To say goodbye. And to thank you. For everything. For the years we had, for... for the adventures we had.”

I smiled, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “Thank you too, Kevin. For the good times. For the memories.” I hesitated before adding, “I hope you find what you’re looking for out there.”

His gaze softened, and he stepped closer. “I’ll never meet anyone like you, Thandi. I know that now. And I’ll always love you. If I couldn’t make it work with you, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make it work with anyone.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling a familiar ache in my chest. “I hope you’re wrong about that, Kevin. I really do.”

He smiled sadly, and before I knew it, he leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t passionate, or full of fire like it used to be. It was gentle. Bittersweet. Like two people saying goodbye to what could’ve been. When he pulled away, there were no more words left to say.

Kevin turned, walked to the door, and with one final glance, he left. Out of my life. For good.

I realized, in that moment, that I was no longer in love with Kevin. The feelings I had for him were gone, replaced by something softer—more like fondness for a memory than love for a person. The version of me that loved Kevin, that wanted forever with him, had died the day our child did.

It was strange to admit, but standing there, watching him leave for good, I felt nothing but a quiet acceptance. We had our time, but that time was over.

I guess this is how it ends.

And now, it’s time for me to start over again.