Chapter 24
I’ll admit, when I saw Rogers near my girl, I wanted to punch him right in the face.
But despite the rage coursing through me, I held back because I wanted to know what they were talking about.
First of all, I had no idea they even knew each other.
From the moment he approached us, to the look they exchanged, to her saying she wanted to step away for a moment—it all seemed off.
I admit what I did wasn’t right, but I needed to know what was going on.
His words, and the fact that she didn’t deny any of them, are eating me alive.
How close they were, all of it made me believe something was going on between them. I always trusted her completely, and once again, here I am—the idiot who got cheated on. The disappointment and betrayal are overwhelming, and now I’m trying to process everything that happened.
Rage and disillusionment consumed me. I didn’t want to hear anything, not a single word from her.
Without a second thought, I threw her out of my life and my company.
I never want to see her again. Now I’m sitting on the couch, my fingers throbbing and bleeding from the glass I crushed in my hand, not to mention the one I hurled against the wall.
Next to me sits the little box with the ring I was going to give her today.
But it was all just an illusion. How naive of me to believe, once again, that I could finally be happy with someone. A girl... Damn it! I got played by a girl. At that moment, my friend walks in—the only person I could talk to right now. I needed to vent.
“Looks like things got ugly,” he said, walking over to me. “Let me see that hand.”
“I was an idiot again, my friend,” I replied, feeling the pain and rage. “I wanted to give myself a chance, believing I might have actually found someone, but instead I got cheated on.”
“That ring was for her?” he asked, glancing at the box beside me.
“I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend today,” I explained, the sadness deepening. “We were happy. I felt complete.”
“And what was her explanation?”
“I didn’t let her speak,” I admitted. “What I heard from Rogers was enough.”
“And what does your ex-brother-in-law have to do with this?” he asked curiously.
“They were together, and she didn’t deny it,” I replied, feeling the rage surge again. “She didn’t contest a single word he said.”
“Well, my friend,” he said, placing his hand on my shoulder, “nothing I say right now is going to fix this. You’re too worked up. I’ve already taken care of your hand. Go rest, try to get some sleep. I’ll be here if you need me.”
In that moment, I realized I needed time to process everything that had happened. The pain and rage were consuming me, and I knew I had to calm down before making any decisions.
I didn’t even respond, just stood up, letting the little box with the ring—the one I’d had made especially for her—slip from my hands and fall to the floor.
I looked at it lying there and remembered how much it had meant to me.
But in that moment, I didn’t want to think about anything.
I was wounded, and this feeling was new to me.
With Abigail, it had been different, calmer.
I don’t know if it was because she lived abroad or because I didn’t really love her.
But with Chloe... The pain was deeper, more intense.
I felt betrayed in a way I’d never experienced before.
I dragged myself to my room and threw myself on the bed. The sheets still smelled like her. Damn it. I got up and ripped everything off, leaving just the bare mattress. Then I lay back down. It took me a while to fall asleep, and for the first time, I let myself give in to my emotions and cried.
Chloe was a wonderful girl with a beautiful smile, always happy despite everything she’d been through.
She brought me happiness and joy, filled my days, turning them into moments I’d treasure forever.
Even her good mornings were different—the coffee she made with such care, the attention she gave me when I was talking or explaining something.
The way she worked, always treating my clients and their wives so well... everything was different with her around. And now she’s gone. The pain of losing her is unbearable. I feel empty, as if a part of me has been ripped out. Memories of her are everywhere, and I don’t know how to deal with it.
My disappointment in her was immense. Knowing what I’d been through, she went and did the same thing. There was no forgiving that. So the best thing to do is forget—absolutely everything, all the moments we shared. It’ll be hard, but I’ll manage.
I wake up the next day with my hand throbbing.
I take a shower and throw on whatever clothes I grab from the closet—after all, I’m staying home today.
I head to the kitchen, where Jullian has already made breakfast. I sit at the counter and pour myself some coffee.
The warm aroma envelops me, but I can’t shake this feeling of emptiness.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to forget and move on.
For now, I’ll try to focus on the present and let time do its work.
“How’s the hand?” Jullian asks.
“It hurts, but it’ll pass,” I reply, trying to downplay the pain.
“Want to talk about yesterday?”
“No, that subject is closed,” I say firmly. “I don’t want to talk about anything related to her anymore.”
“Okay, sir, as you wish. But know that if you need me, I’ll be here to listen.”
“Thank you, Jullian. But I’m not going to suffer again over someone who doesn’t deserve it. Life goes on.”
Jullian nods, respecting my wish not to talk about what happened.
And so I put this matter to rest. Jullian respects me deeply, including my decisions, and because of that, I know he’ll never bring up anything that hurts me again. I’m satisfied with that.
The weekend flew by. My hand is feeling a bit better now, and my friend stayed with me, taking care of me and keeping me company, which was great.
But the week has begun, and with it comes the longing for my girl.
The routine will change, though, and I’ll get used to her absence.
I also have a new assistant, so we have a lot of work ahead.
I’m throwing myself into that to forget about Chloe, and it seems to be working—at least, that’s what I hoped.
With each passing day, I feel myself pulling a little further away from the pain and longing.
The new routine and intense workload are helping me keep my mind occupied so I don’t think about her so much.
But deep down, I know there’s still a long road ahead before I can truly get past everything that happened.
I’m hopeful that, with time, the wounds will heal and I can find a new balance. For now, I’m focused on moving forward, one day at a time, and letting life show me what the future holds.