The Calm

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
An intimate peek inside the soul and mind of a woman who has had her heart broken by a cheater.

Submitted: April 10, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 10, 2017



I closed my eyes slowly. And once they were shut I squeezed them tightly trying to shut off my brain. His hands cradled my face and I heard a borage of sweet nothings cooing at me in the dark. But they had no meaning, no merit. They fell on deaf ears while I struggled to seal the storm of emotions inside of me.

It was the calm before the storm.

The bed shifted with his weight as his body framed mine to the bed in a protective type of manner. That was as it should be. But that was what it wasn’t. he was supposed to be my protector, my lion, my rock! My mind wandered to various pictures of wild cobras as his mouth left a trail of kisses down my neck as soft as rose petals with an undeniable sting of venom.

How could he have done it? Done it again! Their names began flashing in front of my mind’s eye. Each girls name adding a fresh wound to pick at on the walls of my soul.

I squeezed my eyes tighter feeling an intense heat, the opposite kind of heat I should be feeling as his body pressed to mine. It was a burning hot heat that crept up from my heart and strangled my throat and danced maddeningly behind my eyelids. I let out a large gasping sigh, and with it I felt the remenants of my broken heart escaping out into the open where he could see them, feel them. He didn’t care. He doesn’t see. He apologizes and I stay quiet, stay stupid. The calm before the storm. His lips met mine. His were warm with wanting and mine were cold, unsure, and trembling.

I could feel the storm brewing.

“Baby,” he breathed while petting my hair. “It’ll never happen again. I love you.”

I lay motionless. The words meant everything but the tone made them nothing. My lips quiver against his and I finally found my voice. The words on the tip of my tongue, “I hate you,” I exhaled against his lips before catching them and locking my arms around his neck pulling him down to meet my kiss. I savagely press my lips to his breathing in his essence, his passion, his poison as if it were the God given breath of life. Each kiss killed me. Each kiss killed him.

The storm never came.

It never does. 

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