Page 109 of Between Love and Loathing

“I’m fine. I just need time alone and some sleep. I can’t think when I’m near him and—” I tried not to cry, tried to hold together my soul that was breaking.

“Oh, Clara. It’ll all be okay.”

I assured her it would. I tried to feel it too. But when I got to the apartment, it felt so empty even with its beautiful high ceilings, wall-to-wall windows overlooking the city, and the custom leather furnishings.

I didn’t want muted tones with cleanliness everywhere. I wanted my furballs running around while my rainbow accents clashed with Dominic’s black and white.

When a soul shatters from hitting the ground after falling in love, I don’t know if there’s a remedy other than surrounding yourself with the people you love. And family is supposed to be that. Familial bonds are comfortable, ingrained from childhood, and what we strive for in adulthood. It’s why when my sister texted to meet me for breakfast, I thought it would be fine. I thought inviting her to my apartment would maybe bridge a gap if I told her I’d broken up with Dominic.

When I laid in my bed to wait for her, his text came through.

Dominic: Where the hell are you?

Me: I got an apartment. I’ll be back to pick up all my other things soon and the kittens.

Dominic: You’re not picking up anything.

Dominic: Especially not the cats.

Me: You know Sugar and Spice are mine, Dominic.

Dominic: Those cats are ours. And you’re mine. Get your ass back here now.

Me: Dominic, we discussed this.

Dominic: No. You discussed it. I barely even fucking processed it.

Me: This is best for both of us.

Dominic: Speak for yourself. I’m left with a rainbow garden and bookshelf that’s not in the right order.

Instead of crying, I was growling in anger now.

Me: I didn’t leave your place a mess, Dominic. And you know it. Plus, I said I’m coming to get my things soon. If there’s something you need me to take care of, I will.

Dominic: You’re not taking a damn thing out of this house, Clara. Get back here so we can figure out everything. The media outlets are taken care of now. We just need to take care of us.

Me: No thank you. I’m tired, Dominic. And I’ve got to get all this moved. For me, it takes a lot of effort.

I was only affording him that honesty because he understood it and had been compassionate about it in the past. He’d let me feel comfortable sharing the aches and the pains before, and now, with the stress of knowing I wouldn’t have him in the near future, I felt my body bending to the will of my condition.

My phone rang immediately. When I answered, he didn’t even let me say hello. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I said softly, but my voice cracked. “I just need space.”

“That’s the one thing I won’t give you, Clara. I’m coming over. Text me your address.”

“No. It’s the one thing you have to give me.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know.” I took a shaky breath. “Maybe an hour or maybe forever. We’ll see how strong I am.”

“You’re my little fighter. The question is are you fighting for us or against us?”

“You can’t honestly think we’d win this fight, Dominic. You haven’t gotten over her.”

“Her?” he growled. “It’s not about her.”