Chapter Four

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Hearing him say those five words becomes the breaking point for any calm and reasonable reaction I want to have, and I snap. There is no way I have been that out of touch with our relationship this entire time. Something has changed for him and I am fairly certain I know what it is.

"Who is she?" I demand, jumping to my feet.

"What?"

The audacity of this man, pretending like he is not leaving me for another woman! "Come on, Braden," I snarl, "be a man and tell me the truth! Who's the new woman in your life who is making you feel alive again? That's why you're leaving me, isn't it?"

Braden steps back, feigning surprise and shock at my accusation. "No, that's not it," he stammers, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

To hell with keeping cool. "You've had no issue with my predictability before! You've always said you liked how reliable I am. So, what's changed, Braden?!" With every word, I take a step closer to him until I am right in his face.

"There's no one else, Lace. I'm just getting tired of the same old routine."

"That's bullshit!" I scream. "You know what? I don't even care. Just get the hell out!"

"Lace...," his voice cracks, as he looks at me with sad eyes.

"Do not 'Lace' me!" my voice shrill, I barely recognize it coming from my body. I have never been this out of control in my life and it feels so foreign. "You want nothing to do with me?! Leave!"

He scratches his arm and gives me a sad smile. "I was kind of hoping we could still be friends."

Is this guy for real? In an instant, my heart turns to stone as I erect all the walls that, over the year, I allowed this bastard to tear down. "Not gonna happen, Bray," venom dripping from every word. "You no longer fit my 'predictable routine'."

Passing him, I storm down the hall and throw the door open. I stand there, fuming, as he slowly makes his way towards me. Through my peripheral, I catch him glancing at me apologetically, but I refuse to meet his gaze. My heart breaks as I watch the guy I thought I knew walk past me with his head down. I slam the door behind him, lean against it and slide down to the floor.

Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry. Like a child, I repeat my mantra over and over. I will not cry over him. Why should he deserve even one of my tears?

Try as I might, the tears well up in my eyes and I know I am fighting a losing battle. Okay, Lace, you have thirty seconds to be sad and then you have to do something. You cannot let this throw you off. He's not worth it. I count down from thirty and let the tears fall. My silent tears evolve into sorrowful weeping and I allow myself to fully experience the pain of it all. Once I hit zero, I wipe my face and lean my head against the door, exhausted. 

Head pounding, I slowly make my way back to my feet and sluggishly walk to the kitchen for some ice cream. Everything within me does not want to waste any more time thinking about my (now) ex-boyfriend but my brain will not let that happen. Mindlessly, numbingly, I walk through the rooms of my apartment, shoving ice cream into my mouth, remembering moments we shared. The hallway where we had our first kiss after our first date, the kitchen where he tried to bake a cake for my birthday and ended up starting a fire, the living room where he told me he loved me for the first time after watching a Friends re-run (the one with the lobster), and, of course, the bedroom, where just this morning we connected physically and emotionally. Or so I thought.

In typical Braden fashion, the bed was left unmade and I can still see the impression of his body from where he slept. Ice cream in hand, I fall onto the bed and grab his pillow. Holding it to my face, I take a deep breath and inhale his scent. Braden always smelled so good, like he just stepped out of the shower. A hint of mint, amber and cedarwood. Not one for wearing fragrances, his natural scent is clean and fresh.

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