But it wasn’t right because it wasn’t mine to keep. I knew that all along, and yet I kept playing the game. And now, I have to hurt us both.
***
The courier arrives by noon, and I watch regretfully as he carries my package down the stairs with him. I turn off my phone and curl back up into bed, listening to Adele on my iPod before drifting back to sleep.
By four o clock, I can’t sleep anymore. Knowing that Gabriel will be arriving home soon to find my package nearly rips me apart. It’s the final nail in the coffin.
Alanna comes in several times to check on me, trying to persuade me to come out of my dungeon. I refused before, but now I need to get out of the apartment… alone. I stand up and throw on some jeans and my Doc Martens. I put my wild mop of hair into some semblance of a pony tail and grab my camera.
When I come into the living room, Alanna nearly spits out the big gulp of coffee she just drank.
“Toto, what are you doing? I didn’t expect you up anytime this century…”
“I just need to get some fresh air,” I reply.
Alanna jumps to her feet. “Okay, I’ll get ready. Just give me two minutes.”
“No, Alanna, it’s okay.” I shake my head. “I just want to go by myself, if you don’t mind. I need some time alone.”
She furrows her brow in concern. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll be back later.”
“Okay, well please be careful, babe. Call me if you need anything.”
I nod and walk out the door, deciding to explore some parts of the city I haven’t seen before. I want to get some shots of the city that I’ve come to love before it’s time to leave again.
***
Gabriel
I’m too keyed up to focus on work today, so I leave the office a little early. I still haven’t heard anything from Victoria, and I’m starting to think I had her all wrong.
After having to sit through that unbearable dinner last night with Anya, it only adds to my frustration. Posing with fake smiles and laughter for the press is not my idea of a good fucking time.
It’s all a part of the game, this world I live in. I learned that lesson from my mother long ago. It didn’t matter if you were happy or not, you always put on a show that you were. But with Victoria, I’ve never had to pretend. I still don’t know why she went cold on me. She told me that she loved me, and then she ran. I’d like to say that it doesn’t bother me, but I’d be lying.
As I walk across the lobby of my apartment building, the doorman calls out to me.
“Sir, you have a package here.”
I take the package hesitantly, checking the name on the front. When I see it’s from Victoria, it only adds to my confusion.
I thank him and catch the elevator up to my apartment.
As soon as the door shuts behind me, I rip open the box. A mass of carefully folded tissue paper greets me, and instinctively, I know what’s inside. I unfold it to find the collar, along with a simple white note card.
I’m sorry. I can’t do this.
Victoria.
I set the collar delicately on the counter in front of me, taking several ragged breaths. Rage takes over as I sweep through the living room, throwing chairs and destroying everything in my path.
Glass shatters around me as I smash the table where we once sat together. My hands are bloodied and my chest heaves as I ball my hands into fists. I stomp down the hallway towards my room, stopping at the door of the sex room. I open the door slowly, and my heart wrenches at the memories.
Sweet, beautiful Victoria.
I step inside, looking at everything in disgust, knowing it has to be destroyed. Everything we’ve ever touched together.
I tear off my suit coat, and heave the apothecary cabinet onto the floor, watching it splinter apart before me. I rip the blankets from the bed and overturn the mattress, throwing it across the room. And then I punch the mirror on the wall, satisfied when the glass cuts into my arm. The pain is the only thing keeping me from falling apart, and I will gladly accept it.
***
After mentally dissecting every conversation we’ve ever had, I find myself at her door. I’m still fucking angry, and I can’t accept this. I just need to know why. I deserve that much.