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I stopped cooking.
I stopped showering.
I stopped living.
I slept for three days on and off. Sometimes on the couch, sometimes on the rug in the living room, sometimes on the bed. In and out of consciousness, I drifted, my heart and soul so broken my mind shut down to protect everything else. The only time I ate was when a migraine knocked on my front door. Then I ate a small amount of whatever I could find in the kitchen, just enough to stop the pain before it could really start. I had the TV on the whole time just for background noise in the apartment, but I never really watched it. The voices of the actors made me feel less alone.
Axel never called or stopped by to apologize for what he’d said. It was the harshest thing he’d ever said to me, and when no apology came, I knew he’d meant it. His words weren’t just spoken out of anger. They were spoken from the heart.
I was a mistake.
A regret.
That man always fought for me, and now I lived in a world where he didn’t want me anymore. Even if I crawled back to him, he probably wouldn’t even speak to me. He’d shut the door in my face and tell me to disappear.
Just a few weeks ago, we were happy. Talking about the two kids he wanted to have. And now I was just a mistake.
I got a few messages from vendors that wanted to partner with my restaurant, but those messages went unanswered. I had so much to do, but now I didn’t have the heart to bother. Running a restaurant had once been my passion, but now I couldn’t picture myself ever cooking again.
My father texted me a few times too, asked how I was doing, hoped I was having a good day, asked if he could see me.
I ignored them all.
There was no one in the world I wanted to see right now. No one I wanted to talk to. I’d rather stare at the wall in silence than try to carry on like nothing had happened, like Axel’s final words wouldn’t haunt me for the rest of my life.
I was on the couch when someone knocked on the door.
I immediately muted the TV and remained quiet, hoping the person would just walk away.
But they knocked again. “Sweetheart, I just want to check on you.”
A rush of disappointment moved through me, and I hated myself for that.
“You gave me a spare key, remember?”
I still didn’t move from the couch, calling his bluff.
But I heard the key move into the lock, and then the doorknob turned. He stepped inside, and his eyes immediately found mine, turning sad. “Sweetheart…” He must have seen the days of tears coated on my cheeks, must have seen the look of death in my eyes because he came to the couch and moved his arm around me.
My head automatically dipped to his shoulder, and I started to cry.
He squeezed me hard as his chin rested on my head. “Please don’t cry, baby girl.”
With a wad of wet tissues tucked in my closed hand, I sat next to him on the couch. “I went to his place and shared everything you said to me, that love deserved a second chance and how much Axel loved me…but that just made him angry.”
“Why?”
“Because he thinks I only changed my mind because you changed it.” I couldn’t explain everything, not without breaking my promise to Axel. It was hard to sit there and keep it to myself, to not confront my father about the horrible allegations. But I kept my mouth shut because I still loved Axel, even if he didn’t care for me anymore. “Said he’s tired of being in a relationship with not just me, but you.”
My father stared at the coffee table.
“Then he…” It was hard to replay this part of the conversation because it was so devastating. “Said that I was a bigger mistake than his first wife…and he deserves better than me.” New tears sprung to my eyes, but I blinked them away. “Kicked me out of his house. Said he’s done with me.” It somehow hurt more to repeat it than to go through it in the first place. It was still raw, a flesh wound so new it hadn’t even had the chance to stop bleeding.
My father was quiet for a long time, clearly at a loss for what to say.
I suddenly felt cold and pulled the blanket over myself. Sleeping all the time and not eating made my body function differently. I didn’t have the energy to keep my body warm, and with every passing day, I seemed to grow colder.
“Give him space. I’m sure he spoke out of anger.”
