Chapter 2 2.

He blamed my non existent orgasms on me. Whatever had caused my orgasms to disappear had also lowered my libido, hence my lack of interest. So instead of helping me, he had gone out of his way to find out if he could make another woman come, and it appeared that he could. Now we were broken up and I had heard enough.

"When will you get your stuff out of my apartment?" I asked.

Daniel was sitting across from me with his arms crossed defensively. I wanted to reach out and slap the smug look off his face. Or throw the hot tea at him. Instead I strolled over to the sink, emptied the teacup, and then rinsed it out before putting it on the dish rack to drip.

"I need time." He got up from the sofa, stretching his arms above his head as he walked toward me. "At least a month."

"No, I want you gone by next week or I'm changing the locks".

He stopped less than a foot in front of me, his masculine frame towering over me. His brown eyes darkened as he reached out to tuck my hair behind my ears. I slapped his hand away, disgusted by who he had become.

"Come on, Lauren, don't be like that," he said.

"Like what? Like I should have been all along. I've had it up to here with your bullshit." I pointed at my throat to drive my point home. "I let you treat me like crap. It's time for you to go. You cheated on me not just once, but for almost two months. I had sex with you at least once in these two months. You could have given me a STD, or even worse, HIV."

He was getting on my nerves. I needed him out of my hair as soon as possible. His presence was stifling me. Every time he touched me images of those same hands touching another woman would pop up in my mind. I was so done with him.

Now that he was leaving I could stop overdosing my ovaries on the pill. Those hormones couldn't possibly be all good, but I was elated that I'd never gotten pregnant by him.

"You know what," he sneered, "I'll be gone by tonight. Good luck paying for this apartment on your own. Don't come crying to me to help you with anything. We both know you suck as an artist. Nobody wants to buy your crappy art anyway." His voice was laced with venom, his eyes filled with animosity.

"Fuck you," I said, my anger getting the best of me. "I'll be better off without you."

I couldn't believe his audacity. I paid half of the bills and I had my savings, so his absence wouldn't necessarily cripple me financially. I did have a strict budget though, and I needed the extra money to pay for my art supplies and other important stuff.

His words didn't surprise me. He had never supported my work, but he had also never been this mean to me. It was funny how a breakup could bring out the bitter in a person. Daniel rarely showed emotion, nothing fazed him. He lived a laid back life that enabled me to keep going down the path that had finally led to our destruction.

Daniel and Lauren were no more. May they rest in peace.

"I'm sure you'll be better off without me," he said. "I don't doubt that for a minute. It can't be that hard to find a guy who's willing to put up with all your crazy tendencies. I can't believe you put your art before our relationship. Three damn years down the drain, because you let a little bit of fame get to your head." He shook his head in disdain, the muscles of his jaw clenching. "I loved you. I fucking loved you."

"Blame it all on me if you must, but you're the one who went and stick your filthy dick up another woman's vagina, Daniel. Not me. Yes, I neglected our relationship, but that was reparable. What you did? Unforgivable."

I wanted to scream at him until I turned blue in the face, but what good would that do? We'd had this conversation before.

He stormed off into our shared bedroom and I followed him. I stood at the door and watched him pull the biggest suitcase we owned from on top of the dresser and slammed it down on the bed, sending a fine coat of dust up into the air.

Memories of us making love on the bed came rushing at me. He'd been my first. My first love, my first everything. The first time I'd ever gotten drunk was with him. After that, we'd hunted for my first apartment together. Later that year I'd gone on my first vacation in Paris without my mother with him at my side. We'd done so much together that I couldn't imagine doing any of those things without him.

"Where did you put my Manchester sweater?" he asked, bringing my focus back to him.

I eyed him warily and pointed at the hamper where we kept our dirty clothes. He lifted the hamper and emptied all its contents onto the carpet. After he'd sorted out his clothes he left the remaining pile on the floor and went into the bathroom to get more stuff.

Back at the bed he took out his iPhone and dialed. "I need you to pick me up in 20 mins. I'll text you the address." He hung up and pocketed the phone.

"Where will you go?" I asked.

Why did I even care? Really? Why?

"What does it matter to you?" Again there was disdain in his tone.

Another heap of stuff was added to the suitcase. He stopped and ran his hand back and forth through his dark curls and sighed. Standing at the foot of the bed he looked around the room as if he too was reminiscing on days gone by.

Was that sadness I sensed? Probably not. He was most likely relieved to be rid of me.

"Don't forget your watch," I said.

I ignored his previous question because it did matter and I still cared. The watch was a much safer topic to talk about considering the anger I felt simmering beneath the surface. I'd gotten it for him two years ago for his birthday. It was an expensive G-shock with an army pattern on it. He loved that watch.

"You can keep it. I don't want it." He forcefully shut his suitcase, sliding the zippers across the top.

That hurt.

Moving away from the doorway I took up my dirty clothes and put them back into the hamper.

So this was goodbye then.

I was going to miss him, but I'd never let him know that. I eyed him from the corner of my eyes, taking in his profile. His jaw muscles clenched and unclenched as he took one last look around the room. He had what I considered to be above average manly features. A squared jaw, broad forehead and a strong nose. All complemented by dark burnish skin that was mesmerizing to look at. He also stood quite tall and I was going to miss putting my head on his chest.

The muscles of his arms bunched under the weight of the suitcase as he lifted it to the floor. I looked away, not wanting to remember his arms wrapped around me.

He coughed and I glanced up at him. Our eyes met awkwardly. Unspoken words floated in the air between us. Unsaid. Unheard. I hated him for cheating on me. Hated that I had to feel this way. I felt helpless and dejected. Where did I go from here without him?

"Lauren ..."

I shook my head at him. "Don't say it."

"We had something good."

A clump of bile threatened to clog up my throat. I swallowed. "Please, there is no need for niceties. Just let it go. It's over."

The doorbell rang, the shrill sound filling up the stale air between us.

"I'll get the door," I said before running away and curving the corner like that guy in Get Out.

I would have done anything to get away from him right now. I didn't want to say goodbye. Didn't want to accept the fact that it was really over.

I pulled the door open and came face to face with a young woman. A stunningly beautiful young woman. For a second or two I couldn't breathe.

"Hi, I'm Olga. I'm here to pick up Daniel?"