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And I will ensure I remind her who she belongs to.
MAKAYLIE
Day Eighteen Post Cain
ANGER
The past two and a half weeks have been hell.
I’ve hardly eaten.
I stay in bed when I can.
Cain texts, calls, leaves gifts, or bangs on the door daily.
And every day it’s the same reaction from me—I don’t want to see him.
Because I’m weak and fragile.
I know in my heart if he were to hold me, I’d disintegrate into a thousand tiny fragments only he could figure out how to restore, and any hope of me sticking out this breakup would be lost.
Today is no different.
Apparently, when Joey came home, she found a vase of flowers at the door. I haven’t gone into the living room to look at them, but I feel it might be time to get out of bed. Sitting up and throwing back the covers, I stand. I’m a little shaky on my feet, but with reasonable ease, I walk out into the living room. Joey notices and jumps up from the sofa, walking toward me.
Glancing down to the huge arrangement of flowers in the crystal vase, I can’t help but see the note attached to the top. Hesitating to look at it, I hover on the spot.
Eventually, curiosity gets the better of me as I pick up the note and open the sealed envelope.
“Are you sure you wanna open that? I mean, this is the first time you’ve come to the living room for a while. I don’t want anything scurrying you back to your room,” Joey urges, then chews on her bottom lip as she reaches me.
I simply nod, pull the card from the envelope, and gaze down at the handwritten, four simple words.
You belong to me.
A wave of undeniable, unadulterated, and unremitting anger washes over me as I clench my jaw. Oh my God! This man is still trying to dominate me even in our damn breakup.
I don’t belong to him.
Idon’tbelong toany-fucking-one!
Anger so blisteringly hot burns through me so fast that I feel like my skin might blister and peel. My muscles clench, and my face contorts in rage. “Ahhh…” I groan in frustration, smashing the vase on the floor, then start to pace the living room. Tears of anger fill my eyes as my breathing increases and my nostrils flare.
Joey stands still, watching me lose my shit.
“I can’t believe him! Fuck this ‘youbelong to me’shit. Fuck you, Cain Barrington. Fuck you right into next week. No, not next week, next millennium. He thinks he owns me. What an asshole!” I ramble loudly, pacing the floor.
“What is it with you, Cain, and broken vases?” Joey asks with a slight chuckle in her voice.
“You think this isfunny?”I yell, turning to glare at her.
She puts her hands up in surrender and turns to pick up the vase which heldhisflowers. It’s a shame my anger got the better of me because the flowers are quite beautiful.
“I think he’s trying to get you to talk to him, Kaylie. Sure, he might be going about it all the wrong way, but he strikes me as not having a clue when it comes to relationships. You gotta give him some props here. Cain’s been here nearly every day since you broke up. He’s not given up on you… yet.”
“Well, I’llfuckingtell him!” I spit as my anger resurfaces, and I storm toward the front door dressed in some stinky pajamas that I haven’t changed out of for days.
“Where are you going?” Joey calls out.
