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Then two days before classes were to begin, she dumped me. Out of the blue, she’d met me at the city park where she had told me it was over, and it’d been fun while it lasted.
A raging volcano had nothing on the anger that I’d been feeling that day and the many days that had followed. It had taken me months to move past what we’d had. However, for the immediate week following our breakup, I’d done everything I could to get answers from her.
Oh, I’d gotten an answer alright.
After our millionth argument about the breakup, Kincaid had coldly informed me that there was someone else and that she’d never been in love with me, despite having said the words to me.
Now, I’d known that she was lying. Kincaid was an awful liar because she wasn’t practiced at it. She didn’t need to lie. She didn’t care for the opinions of sheep, so there was no need to put up pretenses to impress the masses. Plus, she was Kincaid Black. Enough said.
Still, knowing that she had lied through her teeth, I had finally given up and had walked away. For her to lie about the one thing that would hurt me most, there’d had to be a reason. Kincaid had wanted to end our relationship enough to lie about something so hurtful that I’d never recover.
So, I let her go.
I let her go because whatever had been going on with her had been bigger than what we’d had together. That fucked-up saying about wanting the person you loved to be happy, even if it’s not with you was true to a certain extent. However, I’d been fool by the deep belief that she’d come back once she figured her shit out.
Kincaid never came back, though.
No.
She’d gone on to live her life like those three months hadn’t even happened. Three years later, I was still grappling with the loss of her and what we’d had together.
As for the first time that I’d heard that she had gone out with someone else?
Yeah, the study room in my condo was still a fucked-up mess.
