Chapter 1
CHAPTER 1
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS - 2 YEARS AGO
AUSTIN
I sat on top of my large wooden table in my loft apartment, swinging my legs back and forth, my hands fisting in my hair while staring at the large blank canvas, mocking me in all its whiteness.
There was nothing.
No pattern emerged.
No composition jumped out at me.
My mind was blank when it was usually filled with color, chaos, and a vision that would guide my hand to create a world that made me such a successful artist. I never dreamed I’d make it big, but now my mind was filled with doubts and imposter syndrome.
Everything was his fault.
I let go of my hair and ran my hands through the greasy strands, which I hadn’t washed since… When was the last time I showered? I sniffed my pits and winced at my ripeness, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My life was in ruins.
Alex was gone.
Five years wasted.
He was my first relationship. My first love.
I was alone. It was only me and my struggling creativity.
All those good times we shared exploded into a rain of ash when he came home last month to pack up his things because he’d found someone else to love. He walked out that door, leaving me to pick up my shattered remains.
“I’m tired of being second best to your art and career. I need to be someone’s priority.”
Had I neglected him?
I hadn’t thought so. He was the love of my life.
Although, when I painted, I tended to get hyper-focused.
But we had sex often enough, right? Then, at least three times a month, we spent our time on dates to make up for me being buried in paint up to my elbows trying to meet deadlines. Hell, I’d done his portrait countless times over the years because Alex had a stunning body and an angelic face.
He never even talked to me about how he felt. I would’ve listened, dammit!
“Did you find someone else, or did you cheat on me?”
Rage was my first reaction to being gaslighted and told I didn’t treat him well enough, and then for him to just up and find someone else instead of talking to me. It left me with suffocating anger.
I had no doubt an opportunity presented itself, so Alex took it and then blamed me for his shitty decision. While he’d been my first relationship, I wasn’t a damn idiot. I understood how the world worked.
The look on his face as he stood there with folded arms over his chest and unable to look at me was enough to eviscerate my soul. He just didn’t want me anymore and fucked someone else.
“He gives me the attention I need.”
Was this the antithesis of love? This manipulating apathy?
“So you kept on fucking me?” I yelled.
Alex winced. “Because I still love you.”
That was his excuse for fucking me after he’d fucked someone else. No, not an excuse. It was an outright lie. No one who loves another person would do that. It didn’t get any more selfish than that.
“If you love me, you would’ve talked to me instead of ripping us apart because you couldn’t keep your cock in your pants!”
I hadn’t begged him to stay. How could I? Once he’d fucked someone else, there was no way could that be fixed. I would never trust him.
I’d been so angry—so betrayed—that I told myself ‘good riddance’ to him. But as soon as the door slammed behind him and I was left with no presence of him other than his cologne still mingling in the air, I broke apart and crumbled on the floor.
Now, a month later, and I still couldn’t get my shit together. I couldn’t create. I couldn’t think. Alex had ripped out my soul while killing my muse in the process.
It wasn’t only his leaving but the cheating while still having sex with me. Not only had Alex stabbed my heart, but he’d stabbed my back.
My phone ringing startled me out of my declining thoughts and growing depression. I lifted it off the table where it sat next to me and looked at the screen. My stomach flipped painfully when I saw the call was from my doctor.
My fingers trembled when I swiped the phone on.
“Hello?”
“Is this Mr. Austin Strauss?”
“Yes.”
“This is Dr. Medina. I’m calling about your test results for STIs and HIV.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as my stomach continued to twist in knots.
It’s fine. Don’t jump to conclusions.
But I knew deep down that it wasn’t fine. Had I been free and clear, my doctor wouldn’t have called me directly. He would’ve had a nurse call me or send me a formal letter.
“Okay.” It was all I could get out of my dry mouth.
“You’re clear of any STIs, but… I’m sorry to say your results came back positive for HIV. I’d like you to come in as soon as you can to talk about your treatment options. Please make an appointment as soon as you can. There are a lot of options today…”
I didn’t hear anything else my doctor had said as I slid to the floor, put my head between my legs, and cried. My sobs rang out and bounced off the brick walls of my loft, echoing my pain.
How could Alex have let this happen? Did he know? Was it intentional? Payback? Payback for what? I hadn't done shit to him.
Alex couldn’t have punished me anymore had he tried.
I didn’t know how long I lay on the floor crying like a baby when I sat up and wiped my face and nose with the back of my hand.
When Alex left, I deleted his contact information, but it didn’t matter. I had his number memorized, so I picked my phone off the floor and dialed him.
His phone rang several times, but there was no answer. Asshole. He was probably avoiding me, although I was surprised he didn’t block me, too.
I quickly typed out a text.
Me: Fucking pick up your phone! This is an emergency!
A few seconds later, he called.
“What do you want, Austin!” he snapped when I answered.
“Thanks for giving me fucking HIV, you prick. It wasn’t enough that you cheated, but you fucked him bare?! Now, you're trying to kill me. Did you do this on purpose?!
“What? Oh, my god! No, of course not.”
“What the fuck ever. Get tested, not that I care what the hell happens to you.”
“Wait… Austin…”
I hung up on him and then blocked his number.
I really did care. I hated Alex with every fiber of my being, but I didn’t want him to die.
“Fuck!” I cried out to no one.