Page 5 of Strength in Submission
VIOLET
You’ve never been enough for me. Haven’t you realized that?!
Derek's words flood through my mind as the reality of the day finally sinks in. With a bottle of pinot noir in my hand, I have no shame drinking straight from it. After all, that's what we do after a break up, right? Drink far too much wine and eat Ben & Jerry's out of the tub? I don't have Ben & Jerry's so this will have to do.
Thankfully, my best friend, Ashley, is letting me crash at her apartment until I can get back on my feet and figure out what I'm doing. She has a second bedroom she doesn’t even use and said it’s no problem that I stay here, but I feel so bad relying on her to keep me out of this mess.
She's away for the day, and might be for the entire week depending on how her work trip goes, so I'm hanging out in her apartment by myself. Looking at the dresser, it makes me think about earlier when I left the office and walked into the apartment.
I stepped on a leopard print thong and knew it wasn’t mine. I don't know how to describe the fury that was boiling my veins, but it was a combination of loss and anger. Fear because I waslosing someone I loved so much, and anger because I could never hurt people the way they've hurt me.
I couldn't believe the balls he had, bringing her to the apartment we shared. The apartment where I was paying rent, buying groceries, cooked all of his damn meals. The only thing he paid for was the internet and his own cell phone.
Hell, he said she was better in bed than me… and he didn’t even apologize for cheating. We’ve been dating for six months, and we’ve known each other for a year, and he thought that's an acceptable way to treat your girl? What a fucking joke.
Where am I going wrong? What am I doing to deserve trashy men like this?
We got the apartment a little over eight months ago. We’d both gotten out of rough relationships and agreed to be roommates, then one thing led to another. Now I’m betting he didn’t have a rough relationship at all. It’s more than likely he fucked it up the same way he did with ours.
Sucking in a deep breath I take a swig of the wine and let the dry alcohol burn my throat. Thank goodness everyone has off at work tomorrow. I don't have to worry about getting a little too drunk. Every once and a while Victorio will give us all a random day off if we hit certain margins, and tomorrow is that day.
Still, I'm fucking furious.
I can't believe this has happened to me, yet again!
Don’t get me wrong, I cared for Derek, but it felt like there was something missing between us. I never even told the man I loved him, but I thought staying with him was the right thing to do. Don't get me wrong, I did love him in a way, but I wasn't ever in love with him.
I thought over time my affection for him would grow into something more, but it hadn’t. Maybe I should’ve ended things before we even started, and I’ll take the blame for it. What I don’tunderstand is what I’m doing to attract the same type of people into my life.
I’m an attractive, capable woman, who’s really smart. I don’t just say that to fluff myself up either. I was valedictorian in high school and in college, and I graduated with honors. When I put my all into something, I put my all into it.
Hell, I even canceled my spa appointment so I could sulk around Ashley’s apartment and try to understand what went wrong. This is like the fifth or sixth relationship I’ve had as an adult that’s ended with some sort of cheating or wandering eyes.
I meanwhyis this happening? I know I can't fix everyone, but all I wish is that they'd treat me with the same damn respect I deserve. I have a lot of love for people and I wish they could see that too.
“God dammit, Violet. Maybe you’re just a fucking mess and all the decent guys know it.” I mutter to myself, falling back onto the plush white duvet Ash has in here.
God, the room is gorgeous. It looks like an IKEA showroom, honestly. If she wasn’t such a damn good immigration attorney, I’d tell her to be an interior designer.
“Not that you asked, but I don’t think you’re a mess at all.” His deep, almost stone-cold voice pops out of nowhere and practically makes me piss myself.
I fly up on the bed and stare at the open doorway, seeing no one other than Santiago Mendes leaning against it with his brows raised. He has a plastic bag hanging from his hand with a smiley face on it that reads ‘thank you’, and from the smell, it’s some damn good Mexican.
I’ve known Santiago and Ashley since I was about nine. They were the first people who had the balls to leave our small suburban town in Northern Florida. I actually went to the same college Ashley did and we managed to be roommates, but Santiago . . . Santiago’s a little over eight years older than us.
While we were starting our careers, he was already getting once in a lifetime promotions. He’s a lawyer too, just like his sister, but he focuses in different areas.
“W-what are you doing here?” I immediately question him, hoping he isn’t paying attention to my silly stutter.
I can’t help but do it when I’m nervous or thrown off guard. Ever since I was a kid I’ve been doing it, and alas, I’ve never been able to rid myself of this silly habit.
“You really gonna ask me that? Think about who you’re living with now.” Santiago laughs as he walks from the doorframe and heads into the main area of the apartment. There’s not much of a dining room area, but I notice he’s heading toward the island. “You coming to get some grub or what? I won’t wait for you all day, kiddo.”
Kiddo.
I haven’t heard him call me that in years, but then again, I’ve avoided my best friend’s hot older brother like the plague, for obvious reasons.
I rise from my bed and bring the bottle of wine with me, walk into the main area, and set the bottle of wine down on the island while Santiago makes himself at home, digging through the cabinets grabbing plates, silverware, and glassware.
