Sweet Like Candy

Chapter 1

ONE

CANDACE

A few nights ago, I followed him to a bar where he met up with some of his work friends after telling me he had to price a job.

I didn’t confront him, though. When you’re in a toxic relationship like ours, sometimes choosing flight over fight is the best option for your sanity and your safety.

But tonight, I’m standing up for myself.

I followed my gut and gave him a call. It went straight to voicemail.

An uneasy feeling coiled in my stomach because I knew he was lying to me.

I was taught to follow my intuition, especially when it’s telling me something is off.

Pulling up Snapchat on my phone, I zeroed in on his location… Bingo! Fucking asshole.

I should have ended it months ago. I’ve been warned about his temper.

But my naivety got the best of me. There have been endless rumours about how he treated his ex-girlfriend.

Some people believe Jason is to blame for what happened to Ivy.

Some insist she’d still be here today had he not stolen her light.

But I've always chalked it up to just that–rumours.

Now, I’m not sure what I believe. The only things I know about her are the things I’ve read in news articles.

Ivy was beautiful; she was full of life and knew how to light up any room.

She was charming and had quick wit. The kind of personality that draws you in, like you just had to know her.

It was a shock to everyone to learn that she had taken her own life.

Sometimes, the people who look the happiest on the outside are battling the toughest wars deep within.

I think about Ivy often. Wondering how their relationship was.

Did they have the same kinds of problems that we have?

Did he lie to her? Threaten her? Manipulate her and make her feel like she was two feet tall?

Or in her eyes, was he Prince Charming? Did he hang the moon?

These questions plague my mind day and night.

I was naive to think he could never hurt someone in that way. But I was quick to learn the man I had fallen for was far more dangerous than I’d realized as he turned into a living nightmare right before my eyes.

What was once stolen kisses and sweet gestures turned into holes punched in the drywall and tear-soaked pillows.

I no longer use makeup to cover my bruises; I don’t see a point anymore.

It’s almost as if he enjoys the way his hands turn my skin different shades of blue.

The way he drags his fingers over the swollen flesh, caressing them like they're his own fucked up work of art.

There was a shift in our relationship the day that I started fighting back.

I was tired of the backhanded comments, the lies, him gaslighting me into thinking everything was in my head.

I got what I deserved whenever I’d stand up to him, but it wouldn't stop me from mouthing off the next time, and the next.

I could have just left, but his words echoed in my mind like a warning siren.

“If you leave, I’ll fucking find you. Nobody will want your dusty cunt. You’re an ungrateful bitch. Disrespect me again, and I’ll slit your throat while you sleep.”

When you're told you’re worthless so many times by the person who is supposed to love you, who is supposed to be your protector, you eventually start to believe it.

Now I sit at a red light, tapping my fingers on the steering wheel, my impatience next to zero, waiting for it to turn green.

This is the second time he has lied to me this week that I know of.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice?

I might hit you with my car. The light turns green, and I slam the gas pedal to the floor, jolting myself back against the seat with the sudden take off.

I don’t know what I’m going to do when I get there.

All I know is my rose coloured glasses have turned a shade of crimson, and I’m embracing the fuck out of this newfound fury.