Page 60 of About the Green

He said he would be by my side, that he would help me, that we would work together, that I was his doll, and I was dumb enough to believe him.

A man.

I believed a man.

What is wrong with me?

And now I look like a fucking dumbass.

I look dumb as hell, and as stupid as I should look, because he was just getting what he needed so that he could get back, so he could get away from me.

But that's where he's wrong.

He won't be getting away from me.

Matter of fact, I will be the last thing that he ever sees on this planet, and he sealed it right here.

I shouldn't even be here to hear this, and I know that the conversation is meant to be private because he excused himself to have it. He didn't think that I would ever find out that he was going to use me—he was going to abandon me.

He was going to leave me here like I meant nothing to him.

It's as much as I deserve because, again, I believed that some man could fulfill me, could fix me, could make me want to be better, to want more for myself, to not be only what my appearance says I am.

But what he forgot is that I am Racquelle's most prized asset for a reason.

Not only am I worth it, but I'm worth everything, and he just lost it.

And it won't be the only thing he'll lose.

But first, I've got to get out of here.

Fleeing from the building, there are already cars waiting outside to take the family where they need to go. It looks like Racquelle is still inside but I can’t chance her seeing me and having to explain why I look like this. My makeup is already fucked up from stupid emotional tears and I’m not even home yet.

I can't look like this—be seen like this.

The last thing he has to see has to be beautiful.

I am his doll, am I not?

And his doll will be the last thing he sees, not this fragile, broken girl who still hasn't learned her lesson—that men will always want something else, someone else, and never you.

Never me.

I rush the driver off to my place and make no extra steps before going home.

It'll only take me a second.

I'll get it together. I just need to cry about it long and hard first.

That's exactly what I do.

I get home, and I cry and cry and cry on my couch until I realize I'm getting dehydrated. My throat hurts and stomach hurts, but the pain of the rejection stings so deep inside me. I need to take some sort of pills for the splitting migraine that I'm having from how hard I just cried.

Swallowing these pills would be a fucking nightmare, so I have to get some water but that hurts too. Because I’m only hydrating to keep crying for myself and my stupidity.

And then I take a super long shower, a shower long enough to where my fingers and toes and legs start to get wrinkly.

But the tears never stop coming.