A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 43 | admitting some faults

Once heard, it made no sense, but now it made more sense and held me captive.

Many would give everything for a cheat code that could aid them to navigate through life, but the sad truth slapped them in the face.

Life was no ordinary game like others.

Its few cheat codes weren't permanent.

They faded away in seconds and became history in minutes, yet I needed one of these to set me free.

My friendship with Dwain had officially hit rock bottom.

Was this the bottom line for us?

It was time for us to say goodbye.

Did we have to say goodbyes?

I squeezed a white heart-shaped pillow in my arms and leaned on the headboard while peeping out of the open windows.

Why would the sun stay huge in the sky, casting its glow on the earth without any conflict with the clouds or the moon?

I envied this peaceful relationship between the sun, the clouds, the moon, and the earth.

Someday, will Dwain understand me?

Will he forgive me for slapping him?

I hoped that one day everything falls into place.

The loneliest people were the kindest.

I was lonely, so I cared for Dwain.

The saddest people smiled the brightest.

I was sad for growing up in a family that hated my guts, that was why I couldn't forgive myself if my mood made Dwain worry.

So, I smiled through the pain of isolation and rejection.

The most damaged people were the wisest.

Hence, I'd invested all my efforts into making Dwain a better person.

I'd gone as far as pushing him to sort things out with Tasha, just because I didn't want him to suffer like me.

I knew the fragrance of betrayal.

It was acidic like limes.

I didn't wish to betray Dwain.

So, I had to slap him and stop the madness between the two of us from progressing.

I didn't want to hurt him.

Rubbing my swollen eyes to ease the sting of the afternoon glow, I stumbled out of bed and slipped into comfortable pink flip-flops.

With the pillow buried under my arm, I pulled my legs to the terrace, not giving a thought to the alluring aroma floating in the air.

On the brown coffee table, my breakfast rested untouched.

Dwain was hurting because of me, that was why I couldn't get my mind off him to munch food.

It would be selfish to eat while Dwain was still mad at me.

"Elisabeth, open up. It's me, Brielle."

Her knocks busted me and I halted at one foot from slumping into the giant cushions on the sofas at the terrace.

The knocks on the door persisted and I groaned, knowing that it won't get calm over time.

Pulling out the rubber band in my hair, I let my hair cascade to my back and retired to the room.

"I can't believe you stayed in there without food. C'mon, you can't be starving yourself. Open up."

I folded the sleeves of my sweater to hold my arm and ran my hands through my hair, before cleaning my face with a face wipe.