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Upon hearing the click of the front door and Audrey manually locking it with her key, I made myself the drink I’d come into the kitchen for and then went and got the plate she’d left for me. I wasn’t one for cooking and had a close relationship with the local delivery drivers, so Audrey being my personal chef worked greatly for me.

Tonight, she’d whipped up chicken alfredo and sides to go with it.

God, what would I do without her? Everyone needed a best friend like mine. She’d completely rearranged her life for me without being asked to. Rain, shine, and everything in between, she was there without question. We’d been through some heavy stuff together.

We bounced around all over the place, feasting on Ramen Noodles and drinking cheap beer to make our money stretch. Looking at our life now, it was hard not to be somewhat proud. We weren’t rolling in dough by any means, but we lived comfortably and stress-free for the most part.

There were still days I found myself looking over my shoulder half-expecting Judas to appear at any second. There were nights I woke so consumed by anger and pain I wanted to destroy this entire building.

It had been over four years and I wasn’t sure it was right to feel like this still. Maybe I should’ve adopted the full FISH—fuck it shit happens, mentality by now. We each had much more pressing things to deal with than our trainwreck of a relationship. We’d been so damn young it could be argued breaking up was a natural, but Judas and I weren’t a typical couple, to begin with.

I uncovered the dish and popped it into the microwave to heat. While I waited, I sipped my Bacardi and coke, mulling over what Audrey had said. It was easy to find humor in the situation when I could laugh with someone else. Laughter was much better than tears and I’d shed enough of those to fill an ocean. When I was all by myself and the hilarity faded, the wound felt fresh and raw as if I’d torn it back open.

As hard as I tried to put that portion of my life behind me it was impossible to forget.

I hadn’t ever dealt with the shitshow that went down on the border of my hometown. I compartmentalized and shoved it somewhere deep and dark. I didn’t have the slightest clue where to begin working through the wreckage that had crushed me when my world caved in.

There were three people I held responsible for the destruction and not a single one of them had reaped what they’d sown. They took turns bludgeoning my heart until it was hardly recognizable. The worst part about that was how much I’d loved each of them. It had all been so unnecessary. I think that’s what gutted me the most. They took the love and trust I was ready to give and shredded it apart.

The woman that had the balls to call herself a mother, I hadn’t seen nor heard from since she put a bullet through my father’s chest. I couldn’t tell you where she lived or if she was living at all.

I hoped it was the latter and her life was a consistently despairing hell.

My father had gotten to slip away without ever answering for or explaining his transgressions. I saw his death play out before my eyes for far too many days to count. I was angry about that too. There wasn’t a tombstone for me to sit and curse until my throat was raw or an urn to illogically smash against a wall.

Worse, I missed him.

I missed him so fucking much. Despite his betrayal I still loved him, and he wasn’t here for me to let him know that. He’d died thinking he was saving me when I was the one who indirectly got him killed. I carried that guilt with me every day, struggling to shake off the fog it cast over my life.

Then there was the boy I loved. The one I never wanted to speak of. Just the thought of his name could make me feel the sting of the blade he’d buried between my ribs.

On a few occasions, my curiosity got the best of me, and I looked him up. God, reflecting on those times always brought on a fresh wave of embarrassment. I became one of those women who couldn’t let go and stalked every web page they could to get a glimpse of their ex.

There wasn’t much on him specifically but the Barron’s, in general, were more prominent than I’d initially assumed. The few things I did come across about Judas resulted in my resentment growing even more.

I wasn’t surprised to hear he was engaged. From what I remembered when we were together, this was years overdue based on his family’s traditions. I wonder where the wedding would be held. Wouldn’t it be fitting for me to show up and destroy the whole thing? I highly doubted it would be in a chapel. I don’t think Judas was religious.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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