Hers

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“It just isn’t going to work out. Ya know, long term.” Daniel looked me in the eye. His emerald green eyes I had fallen in love with during our college English class told a different story. It wasn’t about the future, or the fact that we came from much too different backgrounds. There was someone else. I had sensed it in the way he would fuck me. The passion which once had been carnal was just missing. I rolled my eyes at him and chucked up two fingers in the peace sign, “deuces Daniel. Get your shit, and get the fuck out.” I couldn’t let him see that I cared. I couldn’t allow him the satisfaction of knowing my heart was breaking. I couldn’t let him see me weak. I didn’t let anyone see it.

“Seven, let’s talk about this.” He wrapped his muscular pale arm around my waist as I tried to move across the kitchen section of my thrift shop nightmare, studio apartment. I pulled away with such force, that I tripped over my own bare feet. “There isn’t anything to talk about. I just want you to go.” I grabbed his overpriced black leather jacket off the couch and threw it at his face with everything I had. Before contact, his arm caught it in mid-air. I was pissed. I needed him to hurt just as bad as I did.

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