If i break by portia moore5/22/2023 ![]() ![]() My questions come rapid fire as I walk in front of the television, waving my suitcase in his direction and trying my best to obstruct his view. I texted you,” he says with obvious exasperation. I pull out the calendar stuffed in my bag marked with the very few day's he's been home on it, and force it in his lap. He glances back at me, still not speaking, and my anger boils over. ![]() He’s watching a basketball game on his obnoxiously big television screen like he hasn’t a care in the world. I look over at him, now slouched on the couch with a self-assured cocky grin plastered on his face, the same one he wore the day I met him. The four-carat yellow diamond on my finger is a beautiful but painful reminder of the vows he broke. All the material things in the world can’t make up for the growing disconnect between us. He can keep the cars, the money, and the penthouse-the things he believes should comfort me in my loneliness. I clutch my suitcase, full of the very few things that are mine. I'm pretty sure he regards me more as his personal high-class escort than his wife. I expected his lack of response, but it hurts all the same. ![]() A smirk spreads across his face before he passes me headed into the living room. His eyes fall on the empty bottle of wine I finished today. He lets out an exasperated sigh, tosses his keys on the table, then takes off his coat. ![]() He walks in, his eyes quickly skim the packed suitcase in my hand and briefly rest on my face. My very own Prince Fucking Charming, Cal Scott. ![]()
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