He walked out the door without saying another word. I looked down at her; she didn’t look like the girl I’d fallen in love with. She looked like a dirty whore, used up, not worthy of my love or my attention.
I backed away from her; my mind clouded from the liquor. “Why?” I asked. I didn’t know what else to say, and it didn’t matter what her answer was.
“I don’t know, Kayden. I’ve felt us slipping away.” tears began to stream down her face, making my stomach turn. “I think I just got scared with the wedding coming up.”
“You’re going to blame it on the stress of the wedding? The wedding made you stick your ass in the air for any random cock? Don’t insult me.”
She walked toward me and I backed away, I didn’t want her hands on me. “I’m sorry, I...” she placed her face in her hands and began to weep.
“Save the explanation. I can’t believe you threw us away, me away. I hope he’s worth it,” I set the bottle of Jack down, feeling deflated. Nothing I said or she begged mattered at this point. “At least your daddy will be happy if he doesn’t already know.”
“Don’t go, Kayden. We can work this out,” her mascara smeared on her face caused her to look aged, “Don’t walk out on me,” she pleaded.
“I’m not the one that left this relationship first, Bridget.” I grabbed my keys as she crumpled to the floor. She latched on to my leg as I touched the door handle. “Get off me.” I looked down at her feeling nothing but disgust. She slowly removed her fingers, drawing out the ending of our relationship in her eyes. I turned the door handle and walked out into a new life – a blank slate, a fresh start that didn’t feel so full of possibilities but felt like a death – she was no longer the center of my universe, but the master of my destruction.
My break-up with Bridget left me raw and reeling. Life felt a little less sweet, and little things no longer brought me joy. I drowned my loss in the bottom of a bottle. How could you claim to love someone and want to spend the rest of your life with them, but suck another man’s cock? I never looked back. Bridget called me, but I never answered the phone. I had nothing more to say to her. I needed to move forward with my life. I could never believe another word that came out of her mouth, and that’s no way to be in a relationship.
After a week of closing myself off from the world and tormenting myself with the p**n ographic replay of Bridget and the suit, my friends dragged me to a bar in Kent. I agreed to go only because it was a bar. I wanted to wash away all the images and events of the past year with booze.
I walked into the dank smoky college bar with my buddies in tow around midnight, and my heart stopped in my chest… Literally. I couldn’t feel a beat, just a void. My eyes caught sight of Bridget across the room sitting in the lap of some mother f**ker laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world. Her world didn’t shatter, only mine.
“Mother f**ker,” I said, unable to take my eyes off her.
“What?” Ron said.
“The cheating whore is here.” I pointed across the room as Ron looked over.
“Fuck! I’m sorry man. Want to go?”
“Hell no! I want to watch the show.” What can I say? I must love torture. I live in my sadness and wallow in my self-pity. “I want a f**king drink.”
We headed to the bar, and I ordered a pitcher of beer for myself. Yes, for myself – I wasn’t sharing. I washed down the beer with shots of Tequila trying to drown out the hurt I felt with her in my sights. She worked the room, draping herself over various men like she knew them in a more intimate way. I would have never believed that she would even step foot in a bar like this, let alone look like a regular. I didn’t know Bridget as well as I thought I had; I felt duped.
Half way through my pitcher and four shots of Tequila later, Bridget spotted me. Instead of walking away or leaving like a cheating bitch should, she walked in my direction with a look of hurt. What the f**k did she have to be hurt about?
She stood in front of me; yet, I couldn’t say a word. There were so many things running through my brain. I had so much to say to this whore in front of me, but none of it would come.
“Kayden.” She sounded like she just saw me the other day and was saying hello like we were friends. “How are you?” I saw red, pissed doesn’t even explain what I felt in this moment.
“You’ve got to be f**king kidding me. How am I? HOW AM I? That’s all you have to say, you vile bitch.” Eyes started to look in our direction, but I ignored everyone, keeping my eyes pinned on her, not worthy of even saying her name.
“I’m sorry. I f**ked up,” she said staring at the ground.
“You f**ked something, and it sure as hell wasn’t me. Get the f**k out of my space.”
She grabbed my arm, and my flesh instantly felt the coldness of her hands, just like her heart. “Get your f**king hand off me.” I stared at her hand not wanting to look her in the eye. I could barely think straight; my insides were raging.
“You can be such a prick.”
I looked at her; my eyes glaring unable to believe the words coming out of her mouth. I could see someone standing next to her out of the corner of my eye, and I turned my attention towards him. He was staring at Bridget with a look of concern.
“Bridge, are you okay? Want me to get rid of this ass**le?” the c**k sucker asked her. Somehow I became the piece of shit in this situation, how in the f**k did that happen. I wasn’t the one spreading my legs to every Tom, Dick, and Harry like the lovely Bridge standing before me.