The Last Party

by A.R. Torre

Saving a life had been thrilling. Too bad it couldn’t compare with the inverse.

The ultimate power in a marriage is the manipulation ability of knowing how and when your spouse will act and react.

If you waited for life to give you something, you’d never get half of what you deserved.

I learned a while ago that anticipation and hope were half of the enjoyment of life.

In here, the maybes could kill you, but they could also keep you alive.

The hope was what got you through the agony.

I didn’t mind people hating me. Part of me enjoyed the venom in those letters. I deserved it all and could relate to their emotion. I hated myself a lot more than any of them, and if this were a state with the death penalty, I’d have volunteered to get the needle two decades ago.

The events of that night were the main reason I had a long-term and unfulfilled love-fear relationship with Leewood Folcrum.

The truth of the matter was, a future with Leewood was a fantasy that couldn’t happen—not with Grant and Sophie in the picture.

Too bad I couldn’t get rid of them both. Clear the deck and

start fresh with just two cards: Leewood Folcrum and me.

I swallowed at the thought. The fear of rejection was one of the reasons why I hadn’t initiated contact. There were certain things I didn’t handle well, and rejection was one of them.

She’d probably never been spoiled by a man. Most women hadn’t. Most women took the shit they were given and didn’t expect or demand anything more.

“Not ugly. No. Our scars are never ugly. They are proof of what we’ve been through. Truth be told, they can be the most beautiful parts of us, if we learn to love them.”

Actually, our feelings can be a very accurate compass to follow. Human intuition is a very powerful thing.”

“Do you think people are capable of change?” I lifted my shoulder in a shrug. “Depends. What kind of change?” “Well, mental state. For example, do you think you were always the type of person that could kill someone?”

Sometimes it’s not the people that change. It’s the mask that falls off.

My emotions, right now, were a tsunami, and I didn’t have time to