Page 46 of We Own Each Other

I was a monster.

And I didn’t deserve forgiveness, happiness, or anything good because I was anything but good myself.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

AFTER THE EPISODE in my hotel room bathroom, I eventually managed to scrape myself off the floor and finish all my beauty rituals. It was all very robotic and felt like a hollow effort, but it was all I could do to keep going. By the time that was done, I only had a few hours until I needed to sleep, and I spent that time picking up all of the chaos I had strewn about my room.

It was necessary, since I probably wouldn’t be able to afford to stay here for much longer, but since I couldn’t change who I was as a person, this action was also a cathartic way to fix something.

Once I was done, I collapsed into bed. Now, whether I slept or not is up for debate.

I certainly lay there with my eyes closed, but time just seemed to slip by. I was plunged into darkness, but calling that sleep didn’t feel right. Thankfully, my brain was entirely empty the entire time, so I didn’t have to experience any more horrific images of my true self being exposed, but maybe that was because I was empty myself.

I was a husk, and I wasn’t even worthy of experiencing the relief of sleep.

I stayed in that weird, silent, and empty in-between until my alarm went off.

I opened my eyes and got right up. My vision wasn’t blurry from sleep, but my body wasn’t stiff and worn like I hadn’t rested at all. I was just… conscious now.

Maybe this was the best I could do from now on. If I couldn’t be good and would always be a monster, existing as nothing at all was the only other option, so I would never hurt anyone again.

It would be a needless existence, but it would be a safe one, and that was probably all that I could hope for.

Empty and robotic, I took my time getting ready for my meet-up with Corin. I carefully picked out a suit, one of the last unwrinkled things among all of my clothes. I slipped it on, carefully tucking in the undershirt and straightening the collar before tying my tie. I finished it off with a long coat. Glancing in the mirror, I had to admit I looked like a catch.

I couldn’t help wondering if Corin would be lured by this again. But he already knew this was a facade. He knew the real me that was behind all of this.

Cursing my selfishness, I headed to the bathroom to do my hair and finish up my ensemble.

What usually would’ve only taken a few hours, effortless and casual, took nearly the entire morning as I meticulously tried to recreate the visage of the carefree man I was when I had first met Corin.

All of this effort was probably for naught, but what little care I had left was urging me to try. If this was the last time I would see Corin, I wanted to leave him with a good memory. Then, when we finally cut all ties and moved on with our lives, I could shed this last layer of fakeness and disappear into whatever lackluster future awaited me.

With that in mind, I left my hotel room and headed out to the steakhouse we had agreed to meet at.

It was a bit of a walk, but thankfully, the cool night air was slicing through the sparse crowds, keeping me chill as I made my way. This was a familiar path. The bar I had met Corin at was in the same direction, and I was reminded of that night when we were walking down this same sidewalk.

That seemed like an entirely different lifetime now, though in reality, that had only been a few weeks ago at most. That night, I couldn’t wait to get where I was going, dragging who I thought was a Sub behind me, ready to ravage and have my way with him. Little did I know that he would end up being just like me, two halves of different beings — someone who wanted to destroy just as much as they wanted to be destroyed.

I had no idea I was with the only person in the world who would probably understand me completely.

I also had no idea how painful it would be to lose him.

And as I passed by the front window of the steakhouse, I caught sight of the very man who had appeared in my life as a one-night fling, but had evolved into my whole world. In just a few minutes, I would have my last interaction with him. So, before I went into the restaurant, I stopped on the sidewalk and just stared.

I took in the form of my first and only love, imprinting it in my gray matter so I could remember him long after he left me.

He was sitting at the table, leaning back in his chair. At a glance, he appeared relaxed and disheveled, out of place among the other patrons. The messy waves on top of his head and choppy locks down the back of his neck were pitch-black against his porcelain skin. His chiseled frame was unfortunately hidden by his heavy black hoodie, but it most certainly matched the ripped, wide-legged canvas pants and heavy combat boots. He looked punky and unapproachable, but people didn’t know him the way I did.

If they did, they would see how, even relaxed, he sat with a straight back. His hands were nestled in his lap, fingers carefully interlaced, while his right leg was crossed over the other. If you paid attention, you could tell this man was professional and calculating.

And if he would just look my way right now, with that open expression and piercing, crimson eyes, I would no doubt see the powerful Switch within.

Looking from the outside in now, I wanted to laugh.

I had wanted to make it so he couldn’t live without me. Unfortunately, I had done just the opposite. He was living just fine without me, but I was left struggling to live without him. I cursed myself for the twinges of jealousy and frustration that welled up inside me. Who was I to hope someone was struggling to be without me? If anything, he would probably be better off.

Memories of that dark ink dripping from me formed a pit in my stomach.