Page 28 of Tats

If she thinks she's leaving me, she has another think coming. For the past four fucking months, I've been slowly moving her in, and not even a quarter of her shit is in that bag.

I slowly look at her coldly and place my hands on my hips, tilting my head at her, making her tears fall.

Silly, fucking woman.

I point at her and snap, "Take that fucking bag back upstairs right now before I explode, because if you think you're ending things, Shorty, you’d better fucking think again. You. Are. Mine!"

Her eyes widen before they harden, and I brace myself for a fight, a fucking fight I'm about to win.

10

Violet – 25 Years Old

I look around Tats' room, realizing I have more stuff here than I thought, and frustration bubbles up.

How? I could swear I took most of my crap back home with me each time I stayed here.

Tears spring to my eyes, knowing I can't pack it all. So I grab the important stuff and shove it in my bag, trying not to cry my eyes out before looking around the room where I've spent most of my nights. The room is light despite the dark brown wall at the head of the wooden bed. The rest of the walls are off-white, and the side wall is full of windows.

I feel a sob building.

I can't do this with him anymore. It hurts too much to know he's sleeping with others, and I know we're casual, I understand it; I tried to date, but after I was nearly drugged, I gave up on it. I've only ever wanted Tats. Having him as a friend worked. I'd already had him, which the idiot still doesn't remember, and that should have been enough, but it wasn't, and now he's become my everything when I know I'm not his.

I've already lost so much; I don't know if I can survive losing him if we don't end things now.

I feel like I can't breathe. I never should have agreed to this. I should have known I couldn't hack casual. Even my closed-off heart isn't immune to Tats. I knew that the first time I saw him.

God, I'm such an idiot.

I rush downstairs and drop my bag behind the couch before making sure I haven't got any personal items around his living room as my tears burn my eyes. I don't want to end things, I really don't, but I know I have to.

My heart hurts too much, and I feel if I leave now, I will survive. Maybe.

I blink as I look around the all-in-one kitchen, living, and dining area combo. Maybe I could talk to him and help him see why we belong together.

But then I could become too attached and lose him…my world could be torn apart. Again.

I shake my head in frustration and start to pace. That's just a stupid idea. If I don't end things now, he'll leave me in a few weeks anyway.

Everyone I love leaves.

I can feel my body tremble; I miss my parents. They would know what to do right now.

My head is all over the place, and I feel like I'm about to fall apart. My friend, Liv, is struggling because her love, Smokey, doesn't remember her after being in a coma for two weeks. We've become close since I started working at Sunny Café. She comes in several times a week, and we just get on. I've never really had a friend before, but I'm struggling to help her because my head is so full, and I’m scared she’ll think she can’t rely on me.

Money is becoming a problem, and my trust is locked down until I turn thirty. I've only just managed to pass my fourth year of school because I'm working so much to pay for it, and now, I have another four years of med school to go, but I know I can't keep working the hours I am to afford it.

I'm drained.

I can't turn to Tats with my problems, knowing we can't be together anymore, and I can't go to Liv because she's going through so much. Uncle Dexter has decided to make himself known again, popping up to question my parent's financial situation, knowing I had to sell almost everything they owned to pay off the debts he accumulated in their name.

I feel like I'm drowning.

I stop and blink fast, trying to control my emotions. I was offered an opportunity to make a lot more money a town over, but that would mean taking my clothes off and walking around in stripper heels, serving drinks.

I don't want to do it, but I don't see how I have much of a choice, especially now that my rent has increased. The guy who offered me the job seemed genuine in a sleazy way, but money's money, right?

I shake my head as a rumble vibrates through the walls, and my tears burn again.

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