42. Matteo
FORTY-TWO
MATTEO
Two Months Later
So, this is what it’s come to then.
As I roll over onto my back, my stomach lurching at the movement, I reach for the tempting bottle that’s sitting on my nightstand. With trembling fingers, I grab it, downing the remaining liquid and ignoring when some trickles down my chin and onto my bare chest.
It’s been two months since I sent the love of my life away—two months without his kisses, caresses, and beautiful presence in my otherwise routine and stale life.
It’s not so routine anymore.
Theo and Clara left shortly after out last night together. I think everyone was surprised at the speed at which they found an apartment in Cheyenne, listed their house for sale, and moved. I know I should be grateful it happened so quickly, but I’m not. The selfish human side of me that wanted nothing but to take back my words itched to see him. Like an exquisite torture I’d willingly trap myself in.
As I fumble out of bed, stumbling and landing ass first onto the floor, I wonder if he still thinks of me. Has the pain of us being separated for so long sliced him too? Does he regret what we did and said that night? Or is he relieved his otherwise perfect life can return to normal?
Does he regret me ?
I shake my head. Thinking of him… it hurts too much. The burn, the searing pain, the excruciating pressure is too much for me to handle.
What I did was for the best, I know that, but there hasn’t been a second that’s passed that I haven’t wished I were a lesser man.
Because then I would have him.
But this is my life now. Doing anything to try and numb the loss, to dull the grief.
For as long as I wish I wouldn’t live.