“We could have been happy.” he said, the words unwrapping from their vice-like grip on his throat, like vines. The gentle murmur of his voice drew out a foreign feeling deep within her confines.
“Happy?” her voice rising an octave in contrast with the anger surfacing from her ribcage, “You think cheating is something I would brush off?” she screamed in rage. Their situation is something you would see on a movie or a stage. Something you would read off a ripped-off page, a foreign feeling that you can’t ever cage.
“I had understood why you did it the first time. Hell, I forgave you,” she explained, her voice still in a crescendo of pain, “but this is too much, don’t you think?”
Feeling okay is not something she could feign, as it would only end in vain. He is the blood that runs through her blue veins, a risk she would bet on until nothing remained.
“I’m sorry. I love you. I’m begging you.” That was all he could ever say, it played in a continuous loop as if it would make everything okay. The color in her life was all but fading to gray. There’s no medicine or song that would make the pain go away, no words poetic enough can make her stay.
“I’m sorry, I love you. I promise to make it all right. Once more chance is all I’m asking, is that such a crime?”
“Yes, it is. You think I’ll be fine? You think I’ll brush off your mistakes every time? I’ve had enough, I’m done. Our hearts no longer rhyme. I’m through with being just your pastime.”
“But I love you, I love you. I love your whole soul. Please just don’t leave me, you make me whole.”
“Can you stop being selfish for once? What about me? I can’t forgive what you’ve done. It’s hurts, can’t you see?” She let out a cry, she wanted to plea, but she knew in her heart, they could no longer be.
“So this is it? All the pain and effort’s prize? All the late night calls and endless cries? All our plans in the future has met it’s demise. All this just so we’d end our love in goodbye?” He clarifies, not wanting to open his eyes to the truth. He wants all to be a lie, not wanting to lose.
“This dance that we seem to be having is long overdue. In another life, we would once again rendezvous. But good god, you’ve painted my skies so blue, I know that I would never, ever forget you.”
This is the end, their love’s denouement. The case of breaking trust, in lust, and abandonment. Their time together was only for a moment, their memories and words are now only just fragments.