Denial.
Anger. Bargaining. Acceptance. I'd gone through these stages of depression and finally accepted how naive I was, thinking I could be loved by anyone truly. I kept living in my head and ignoring the signs. I should have seen it in the way he started using my first name to address me, and the way he acted so distant. No, it took me walking in on him with that secretary of his in our bed. Just thinking about it got me back to the anger stage but I can't, I should forget it all and move on. It doesn't matter that I invested five years into him, it doesn't matter that I'd spent most of those years planning out our wedding and it most certainly doesn't matter that I already bought a ring and was ready to propose. I should have kept the darn receipt. Taking in a deep breath and letting out a sigh. I was killing the vibe of the wedding with my presence. The bride and groom looked like a dream with bright smiles as they danced in each other's arms and I kept wishing again, why couldn't that be me? The one thing I loved the most seemed to draw the life out of me with every second I spent staring at the lovely couple but as much as I wanted to leave I couldn't when I was the wedding planner, in fact, it was my job to leave last. Looking out the window and swirling my glass of red wine, the clouds looked pale, the air dry against my skin or maybe it was just my mood. Another sigh escaped me and I thought for the millionth time where exactly I went wrong. My damn heart still throbbed when my mind wandered back to him, at least I wasn't crying anymore, my eyes were too tired and lifeless, with dark circles from lack of sleep which I covered with layers of concealer. Seriously, where did I go wrong? If I could run away from everything, escape the memories that hurt so bad. I placed a longing gaze on the sky watching as it got dark, already late enough because the couple had left some time ago but the celebration dragged on longer because of lingering guests. Now it was over, I'd sent everyone away with a smile that died down once they were out the door. I had to massage my face because it hurt from forcing a smile all day. The jolly music that still played mocked my current state of misery. Another sigh... I had an early flight tomorrow. When I said I wanted to get away from everything, I meant it. Nothing was holding me here anymore. I've been thinking about it for two weeks now, I convinced myself that after my last wedding project with the Parker couple, I'd steal the chance to get away and forget everything, move to a remote place, and just be alone. Test the theory that time heals. After the last guests rolled out of the driveway, I packed to leave making sure to lock up but that dreadful scene came crashing and invading on my sanity again in my head... I didn't want to believe what I was seeing, it was easier gaslighting myself to think my eyes were playing tricks on me but no matter how I willed it, I could still see my boyfriend entangled in our bed with his secretary. Only if I could shred that image from my head, if I could mute the sounds of pleasure he made in bed with another woman and grasp the control I once had over my life before all this. "I'm so pathetic." I sighed again, getting my things and stuffing them into a bag before heading out. Now it was completely dark out and I regretted deciding not to drive today but it's not like I was stable enough to handle anything right now, let alone something that could potentially kill me if I get lost in my thoughts like I've done all day. I took a shortcut home, walking down the crusty road I'd only used a couple of times. The shadows were thick and greedy, swallowing the path in gulps of twilight. Each gust of wind sent the branches whispering, the rustling leaves sounding like muttered threats. I pressed my steps faster, the rhythm of my heart echoing the quickening clicks of my heels. My hurried movements weren't enough to chill the eerie feeling I was getting. I never liked this part of town, it spelled danger and that was the one thing I avoided like a plague with my Nickname being tasteless Mira to prove it because according to my friends, my life lacked flavour. Apparently it's a crime to like the simple things of life, I never went crazy, ever! At parties I have recovery duty because I don't get wasted. There was nothing extra about me, I'm just Mirabel. As much as they were right I didn't like their constant teasing even for falling in love with the first and only guy I'd dated and how I never ever took risks and I never understood it. What's wrong with playing it safe? Even the safe option somehow found a way to plunge a hole in my heart. Stop thinking about him! Shaking off my unwanted thoughts, I rounded a corner to a back alley and immediately stood frozen by the scene before me. The unfamiliar accent dripped with menace. "You are not so tough now fucker." What are the chances that I'd meet my end today? I guessed a good 99.9 percent. My legs moved on their own, retreating slowly before I cornered and I instantly pressed back against the wall, my heart threatening to escape my chest with how fast it was beating and my body shivering and quaking. The feeling was unreal, every fiber of my being registered the very words I detested DANGER! like a blaring alarm in my head. What was that? There were about three men in total and two looked like they ate bricks for breakfast. I had seen something, something I shouldn't have. I couldn't process much with how far my mind had gone but I'd gotten a glimpse of the last guy and he looked every shade of messed up. Just great, first I walked into my cheating boyfriend which changed the axis of my life, and now this? Maybe next time I'd be in the middle of a drug operation, who knows where my legs would take me? Attempting to calm my damn body from everything I was feeling but failed miserably, I peeked to access the situation and the potential of my survival. I counted three figures. Two, large and hulking, rained blows down on the other who looked half dead with blood dressing him and a gushing wound. Each thudding impact on the man's face sent an icy spike of fear through me, it was like I could feel his pain. My breath hitched in my throat, caught like a bird in a very sturdy cage that wanted out. I should have taken my car fuck! Panic clawed at me and I felt like I was suffocating. I had a choice, I could melt back into the shadows and pretend I never saw anything. The thought of running hammered in my brain, a frantic mantra against the rising tide of dread, remember? Tasteless Mira. This is exactly what I run from but my feet remained rooted in spot and refused to turn away. The man on the ground lets out a groan, the only sound I'd heard him make which made me believe he is at least alive... I could save him, somehow. Yes, I am being stupid, so damn stupid but something snagged on the barbs of my conscience. A cold tremor ran down my spine as the same asshole hit even harder followed by a brutal kick right against his wound and I really thought he was dead this time but glancing at his fingers, it moved. He straightened, his silhouette momentarily illuminated by the flickering street lamp, revealing a face twisted with hate, I heard his petrifying voice. "You should have just died quietly but you tried to escape. Now I'll end it quick." My mind blanked as my eyes zeroed in on the gun he pulled out and pointed at the other guy. Out of all the times for my brain to give up on me. What do I do, Call the police? They wouldn't get here in time. Taking out my phone, my trembling hand. What number should I dial? Fear clouded my thinking, I pulled back from peeking. With a ragged gasp, I pressed myself back against the wall, my heart about to give up on me too. This wasn't bravery, not exactly. It was a desperate defiance against the tide of fear, a flicker of humanity refusing to be extinguished in the face of darkness. I'm still in all ways tasteless Mira. Still, I have to save him At this point, I am convinced I have some kind of affinity with shit luck. I took deep breaths to unsuccessfully calm myself again but that didn't matter if I was ready or not because a man was about to die. The police won't reach here on time but I've seen movies, it couldn't be that hard because my very life was at stake and yes I may have at some point wished to die between the denial and anger stage but now I cursed at my past self for even thinking of it. It felt like I'd spent hours to get myself together, I immediately scrolled my phone, looking for police siren sounds. I have just one chance, I can't blow it. With my eyes shut tight, I clicked on the sound to play. "Cops? Here? What the fuck." I heard one of them growl, then a sound that was like a fist colliding with the wall. I flinched, pressing harder against the wall and praying in every religion I could remember for help. "We need to leave now. The police are here, we can't be discovered or they'll come for us." I didn't look to see who spoke but he sounded sensible. "Fuck that, we need to finish the job so go check it out." At those words, I almost peed myself, I could hear the beating of my heart in my ears before but now it stopped and I couldn't draw in air. I'm really going to die here. I clutched my phone to my chest. "Don't back down on a job, one shot and he's done," it was all whispered yells. "We can't shoot him, no silencer. They'll hear it and we'll be caught, he's as good as a dead bastard, so let's get the fuck out of here." "Fuck! What are the cops even doing here?" That one guy really seemed frustrated. "You are one lucky shit, if you survive this then I'm just gonna find you again." There were heavy footsteps that faded, I kept the siren playing for good measure but my anxiety now emerged as I sagged against the floor, every inch of my body quacking. Mirabel never, ever, EVER! Do that again! Taking a shallow, shaky breath, I crept along the wall, my movement unstable but my senses hyper-alert. Each creak of a branch, each groan of the wind, sent me flinching. But I kept moving, inch by agonizing inch until I reached the crumpled form slouched against the dumpster. My heart ached to see him. He looked broken. Who is he and why would they go this far? Is he dead? Kneeling beside him, my fear threatened to overwhelm me. But I forced myself to focus. I risked my life for this. The man looked starved but was still bigger than me, how I'd manage to get us both out of here is a mystery to me but when he stirred, a groan escaped his lips. I couldn't help the relieved smile that broke my worried face and eased my fear a little. ... I did it, I saved someone.There is a man, unconscious in my bed. Whatever had possessed me earlier was long gone because now I could use the reasonable part of my brain and it was telling me that I brought some kind of criminal in.This was a bad idea, I have an early flight tomorrow or at least I had before I called and postponed it for another two days because well I couldn't exactly leave with this in my house. He looked dead but still took in air... barely. I felt responsible for him so just until he wakes and I'd be on my way.I should be done packing by now, my suitcase was already out but here I was trying to figure out where to even start with the pile of a man on my bed.His most severe wound had stopped gushing only after painting me in red which I spent three hours scrubbing away. My sheets met the same faith but now I was on cleaning duty, his bruises and cuts some red and others really dark purple.With all the first aid equipment and two bottles of alcohol, one for me. I was ready to demonstrate
Three days, eighteen hours and twelve minutes, sixteen seconds. I couldn’t manage to open my eyes or move my body even though my mind remained active, not shutting off for over a week since I was abducted on my first day in this cursed city. It was a matter of territory, with two strong power house mafia existing in Italy, all there was to do was dominate until the other caves. They had messed with my overseas business and I was forced to fly in personally and I landed in New York over a week ago. Buzzing city, bright, busy. Lo odio. I hate it. My first time away from Rome in years and I knew I didn’t like it. The air, weather, people, road, everything was different and I don’t do different. My car was hijacked and with a club to the back of my head I was rendered unconscious and that was less than an hour since I landed. An obvious trap I saw coming but couldn’t evade. I was out cold just to peel open my eyes to welcome two Italian shits with familiar tasteless tattoos of the
They were a cool set of flawless grey. His eyes, they swirled and for a second I got lost searching them. They were enthralling, dark and penetrating. Wow! this man was stunning. Those jerks were going to wipe this from the face of the earth and deprive people from beholding his beauty. The thing with beautiful people is they were either taken or crazy and in rare cases both. Which one was he? "What are you thinking about?" He asked evading my question. "You are beautiful." That got a chuckle from him, the hard lines at the corner of his eyes easing and did I think this man was beautiful before? Now he looked like he couldn't be from this world, like we didn't breathe the same air. "That's a first for me." "What?" "Being called beautiful." That couldn't be, how do people be around this and not admit it. He was a hot blend of hard muscles with a defined figure strewn with scars from hard work which added to his character but his face told a different story. He l
I was out of my mind. Whoever this girl is? She isn’t me.The heat between us was palpable, our heavy breaths mingling as he gazed into my eyes. The feel of his hand was too incredible. I wanted to close my eyes, but they remained open staring into his cool grey depths swirling with dark desires. Then they moved to his muscles. I’d thought he was fit but never allowed my thoughts to wonder too far, his sculpted muscles taut and glistening with a light sheen of sweat. I bit my lower lip with the urge to lick him, clouding my mind.“Fuck me Mirabella, the way you seduce me with your looks.” He was panting, his voice a low growl that sent shivers rippling through me to my very fingertips. “How am I supposed to be gentle with you?” He asked more to himself, looking dazed.He teased my nipples so much that I was about to lose it, but then stopped to explore other places. It was a sweet kind of torture. His rough hands traced the curve of my jaw with his thumb, his touch tender in contrast t
I was out of my mind. Whoever this girl is? She isn’t me.The heat between us was palpable, our heavy breaths mingling as he gazed into my eyes. The feel of his hand was too incredible. I wanted to close my eyes, but they remained open staring into his cool grey depths swirling with dark desires. Then they moved to his muscles. I’d thought he was fit but never allowed my thoughts to wonder too far, his sculpted muscles taut and glistening with a light sheen of sweat. I bit my lower lip with the urge to lick him, clouding my mind.“Fuck me Mirabella, the way you seduce me with your looks.” He was panting, his voice a low growl that sent shivers rippling through me to my very fingertips. “How am I supposed to be gentle with you?” He asked more to himself, looking dazed.He teased my nipples so much that I was about to lose it, but then stopped to explore other places. It was a sweet kind of torture. His rough hands traced the curve of my jaw with his thumb, his touch tender in contrast t
They were a cool set of flawless grey. His eyes, they swirled and for a second I got lost searching them. They were enthralling, dark and penetrating. Wow! this man was stunning. Those jerks were going to wipe this from the face of the earth and deprive people from beholding his beauty. The thing with beautiful people is they were either taken or crazy and in rare cases both. Which one was he? "What are you thinking about?" He asked evading my question. "You are beautiful." That got a chuckle from him, the hard lines at the corner of his eyes easing and did I think this man was beautiful before? Now he looked like he couldn't be from this world, like we didn't breathe the same air. "That's a first for me." "What?" "Being called beautiful." That couldn't be, how do people be around this and not admit it. He was a hot blend of hard muscles with a defined figure strewn with scars from hard work which added to his character but his face told a different story. He l
Three days, eighteen hours and twelve minutes, sixteen seconds. I couldn’t manage to open my eyes or move my body even though my mind remained active, not shutting off for over a week since I was abducted on my first day in this cursed city. It was a matter of territory, with two strong power house mafia existing in Italy, all there was to do was dominate until the other caves. They had messed with my overseas business and I was forced to fly in personally and I landed in New York over a week ago. Buzzing city, bright, busy. Lo odio. I hate it. My first time away from Rome in years and I knew I didn’t like it. The air, weather, people, road, everything was different and I don’t do different. My car was hijacked and with a club to the back of my head I was rendered unconscious and that was less than an hour since I landed. An obvious trap I saw coming but couldn’t evade. I was out cold just to peel open my eyes to welcome two Italian shits with familiar tasteless tattoos of the
There is a man, unconscious in my bed. Whatever had possessed me earlier was long gone because now I could use the reasonable part of my brain and it was telling me that I brought some kind of criminal in.This was a bad idea, I have an early flight tomorrow or at least I had before I called and postponed it for another two days because well I couldn't exactly leave with this in my house. He looked dead but still took in air... barely. I felt responsible for him so just until he wakes and I'd be on my way.I should be done packing by now, my suitcase was already out but here I was trying to figure out where to even start with the pile of a man on my bed.His most severe wound had stopped gushing only after painting me in red which I spent three hours scrubbing away. My sheets met the same faith but now I was on cleaning duty, his bruises and cuts some red and others really dark purple.With all the first aid equipment and two bottles of alcohol, one for me. I was ready to demonstrate
Denial.Anger.Bargaining.Acceptance. I'd gone through these stages of depression and finally accepted how naive I was, thinking I could be loved by anyone truly. I kept living in my head and ignoring the signs. I should have seen it in the way he started using my first name to address me, and the way he acted so distant. No, it took me walking in on him with that secretary of his in our bed. Just thinking about it got me back to the anger stage but I can't, I should forget it all and move on. It doesn't matter that I invested five years into him, it doesn't matter that I'd spent most of those years planning out our wedding and it most certainly doesn't matter that I already bought a ring and was ready to propose. I should have kept the darn receipt. Taking in a deep breath and letting out a sigh. I was killing the vibe of the wedding with my presence. The bride and groom looked like a dream with bright smiles as they danced in each other's arms and I kept wishing again, why coul