My beloved. He said he loved me. He made me promise to come back to him. The thought of returning to him, to our lives together, to the future we were going to build—it’s been one of the things getting me through these confusing, brutal days. He fucking lied. Our gazes meet again. I know he can read the betrayal in my eyes, but he doesn’t look away. The pain in his eyes makes me want to retch, acid rising in the back of my throat.
DISGUSTING
