SIERRA'S POV
I ran out of the hotel immediately I hit him. I could faintly remember the lady on the bed, rushing to him. She seemed horrified just like me. I was out the door too fast to get a good look at her. Not that it mattered. My mind was in a daze. Remorse and heartache hit me at the same time. I still couldn't picture how I got home, but I did, and now I was sitting in the dark hugging a red bow-tied gift box.
I was crying, muttering to myself while I made a futile effort to wipe them off. "Don't, Sierra. He hurt you and you hurt him back. That torn bleeding forehead of his makes us even. You just gotta get over him. You just have to…"
I bit my lip, fighting the tears that burned my eyes. I gripped the gift tighter. My heart hurt. I found myself pressing a hand on it, folding up my shirt in between my fingers, trying to make the pain stop. It didn't, it couldn't. I gasped in pain, sobs escaping my lips, Wahshen's face haunting my mind.
'How could you? You promised. You swore in your life never to hurt me. You… How could you?' I hugged my knees tightly. The room seemed to be closing in; flashes of him over that woman played before my eyes.
Sardonically, I found myself chuckling. The exotic emotions that inflated me the morning of yesterday when I picked up his parcel, felt like torment now. Before he went for his business trip, he sent me a gold necklace and in its box was a letter. He wrote;
'Quit trying to hide, you can't fool me. I know you are an angel in disguise'.
Every word of his letter felt suffocating. He knew he would hurt me and still wrote something like that. A pang of rage burst in me. I flung the box angrily, it hit the standing mirror and it shattered. My sullen reflection marred as I looked at the distorted glass. For some sickening reason, I remembered the girl on the bed. I didn't get to see her face but from behind she looked mature, tall, curvy, her skin luminous and her hair silky. She was beautiful, more beautiful than I was; more appealing too. I bet.
'Maybe this is my fault'. I rose to my feet.
'Maybe I should have…'
I scratch my hair, scattering the blonde curls, my steps no different from a sullen staggering drunk.
'I should have offered him sex a long time ago. Maybe he got tired of waiting and found her, found someone better.'
The tears pooled again. I wiped a hand on my cheek, cleaning the droplets off.
'If he was tired, he should have said something. Cheating on me, it's sick. He wasn't meant for me. Someone who can't wait isn't meant for me. I am better off without a bastard like…'
My eyes roamed the room frantically, then unconsciously, it fell on something. I froze on the spot. Framed and placed on the reading desk next to an artificial rose, was our last anniversary picture, taken on his yacht. Last year's memories came tumbling back. His voice echoed in my mind. The taste of his lips lingered in my mouth. His touch, his light caresses rippled through my skin.
My legs felt weak, I stumbled backwards and crumbled to the floor. I couldn't fight it anymore. I let go and started crying again.
'I can't do this. I can't. I… I love him. I love him so much it hurts. Someone make this pain go away, please.'
I buried my face in my knees. The sorrow overwhelmed me and for hours it felt like it would tear me apart, but after a while, it sort of began to leave me. I felt numb, staring at the emptiness that was my shattered mirror, hopelessly yearning for this to all be just a bad dream, but time ticked on and nothing changed. The pieces of glass lay close by. All the while I was looking at it I was mustering courage. Courage to end everything.
There was a throbbing ache at the back of my head. A crushing tightness in my chest. I felt lightheaded as I slipped off the floor and lurched to the glass pieces lying next to the reading desk. I looked at it for a moment. That thought swirling around my disoriented mind.
'If I do this, if I cut myself, it will all go away. I will leave this wreaked life forever. I will feel fine again.'
My hands quivered as I bent over to pick it up, a jagged piece in between my fingers. I tried to bring myself to straighten up, that's when –
Someone knocked.
The gentle pat on the door felt like it was a wave of sanity. It hit me immediately. The thud sound of the door broke into the silence. It startled me, dragging me back to reality. My fingers shook, and the glass cut me. I cringed back, staring at the blood.
"Sierra, are you in there? Are you alright?" Mum's anxious voice came through, sinking into my bones like ice water. "Mummy had a bad dream, are you sure you are alright?"
I had my hands over my lips, fighting to hold back a sob. Mother did not have to know. She can't see me like this.
"I'm okay. Just sleeping mum." I lied, my voice low like a whisper.
"Are you sure, dear?"
"Yes… I am…. I'm just sleepy."
"Alright." Her tone still held a hint of worry. "I will leave you then so you can rest well for school."
I heard the floorboards creak as her footsteps disappeared down the passageway. I shut my eyes, slipping back to the floor. Mum just saved my life.
The night passed in silence. Somehow, mum's perfect timing and her words calmed me so much. I actually slept and in the morning, I had a clear head, clear enough to make up an amazing story about how a rat broke the mirror. Clear enough to convince her I could not go to school.
Mother knew something was wrong. I could see it in her glassy grey eyes, but she knew better than to probe further. Immediately she left for work, I found my way to the large cushion in the sitting room and slumped on it. A bowl of ice cream in hand. That's what all the heartbroken girls in the movies do, right? Lick ice cream.
I tried to see if it could work for me, but before I could start filling my mouth with chunks of icy creamy sugar, I heard a knock on the door.
'That's weird. Did mum come back? I didn't hear her car pull up on the driveway. It must be the neighbours'. I scurried to my feet and hurriedly opened the door.
'Good morning, sorry my mum isn't…'
Our eyes met, and the words stuck in my throat. He stared at me in his never-changing calm demeanour, accentuating his polished appearance. A deep frown settled on my lips. I swung the door; he held it, forcing it open.
"Sierra stop, I just want to talk to you."
"Get out of my house! Get out of my life!" I yelled, standing a little away from the door he had thrown ajar.
"Sierra, please, let me explain," he pleaded. His chest rose and fell in palpitation, tension denting the once-serene atmosphere.
"There is nothing you have to say I want to listen to. Please leave." My tone was final.
"Sierra, it's not what you think it is. Something happened to me last night. I couldn't think straight after that. I went to my room and things got crazy. Then you walked in and-"
He had a terrified look in his eyes as he spoke. I had never seen him like that before. He seemed as though he was losing something worth more than his life.
"But you still fucked her anyway," the words fell right out of my mouth before I could think it through, but I didn't care. In fact, at this point, I wanted it to break him like he broke me.
"It was a mistake. I thought it was you."
I scoffed. "But it wasn't."
"Sierra-"
"You promised!" I yelled, tears trickled. I wiped them immediately.
"You lied to me." I ran a hand through my already tousled hair. I felt like I was losing it. "Please just leave. Please!"
He held my gaze, breathing slowly, contemplating what to do next. We stood there for a while, in silence until his footsteps broke it. He turned his back and made for the door, slowly.
"I will come back when you've calmed down. Just remember this, Sierra. What you saw isn't what you think it is. I could never do anything to hurt you."
I banged the door, slipping to the floor.
All the pain came flooding back, it felt like last night all over again. I curled up into myself, wishing so badly that I had gone to school instead. In the midst of all this distress, the only thing I could think of was calling my best friend Katelyn. I thought I could find salvation in her. But that phone call, our conversation on the roof, was the beginning of a nightmare. I spent the rest of my life trying to escape.