Page 9 of Between Love & Ruin

He’s subtly belittled my career at every opportunity, thinking I wouldn’t notice. I don’t need his validation anymore—I just want to shatter his fragile ego.

“Okay. I will let him know, and I will come on the tour, no matter what. Thanks for being so patient with me.”

The rest of the meeting goes by with us discussing the major things for the event, like the location and timings and the whole schedule of things. And I know I should have been paying attention, but my heart felt heavy, as if a massive rock had been placed on top of me, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Once she hangs up, I rest my face on the table, and while I have never been one to believe in the existence of God, because unfair things have happened with me and if God existed, he wouldn’t have let those happen to a kid.

I still find myself almost begging him to let me out of this mess.

I don’t know what is wrong, but I also know that this isn’t how things are supposed to be.

I don’t know what to do, so I decide to do what I do best.

I sit up and open a notebook and bleed words onto the page.

Meaningless words that won’t see the light of day but words nonetheless.

And just like that, I lose track of time, and for a while, the pain subsides.

Sienna Hayes

“Hi, Sienna,” Mark says as he comes home, and my eyes widen slightly.

“Hi,” I say, a little taken aback. He usually stays silent when he comes back home because he is always “too stressed”, and I just got so used to the silence that any conversation feels unnecessary between us.

“How’s your day?”

I look at him confused as he sits beside me on the couch, and I shift slightly.

“Fine,” I say. “Why are you being nice to me?”

He looks at me as if I said something wrong, but if I had to think about the last time we talked sweetly to each other, I am afraid I would just fall asleep because of boredom.

“You are my girlfriend,” he says, and that sounds more like a placeholder title than an endearment. “Why would I not be nice to you?”

I want to tell him that he hasn’t given me special treatment in months—nothing to make this feel like a real relationship. But like always, I choose silence.

He sighs as he puts his hand over my shoulder and pulls me to his side. What was supposed to be a comforting embrace leaves me feeling awkward, and I try my best not to show it.

“I know I haven’t been so present lately,” he says, and I bite my tongue to not say anything offensive. “It’s just work. But I still love you, you know.”

The truth is that I don’t know. But at this point I am so unsure of my feelings that I can’t decide whether they’re right or wrong.

So no matter how much I want to say that no, I don’t know if he loves me or not. I don’t know whether I still love him or not or whether we ever did; I say, “I know.”

* * *

“Did you see the news?” Laura practically yells in my ear once I finally pick up her call.

She had been calling since morning, and I was avoiding it partly because I was working and partly because I didn’t want to talk to anyone.

My worst trait would always be not communicating when I am overwhelmed. It is the one trait I always make sure one of my book characters has so that I can show some character development. I do it in the hopes that maybe one day I will learn the same thing.

It hasn’t happened yet, but I am hopeful.

“What news?” I ask, sitting with my legs crossed on the couch.

“Don’t you see social media?”