Shattered Promises

CW: Contains themes of infidelity and emotional distress.

It was soft and warm, but it still felt cold. The slow shifts of their hands gently rubbing up and down my back, their small coos of reassurance suffocating the air. Their warm embrace felt different, like they were just filling in for someone who used to be important—someone I used to count on. But it’s different now. All future promises were destroyed, and all I was left with was a pit in my stomach and a void in my chest.

A small rumble came from above me. “Everything will be okay, I promise,” his voice whispered, as if his words would scorch me. They hung heavily in the air, as if knowing their existence was a lie. Wouldn’t have been the first time I was burned.

A cold, gentle breeze swept over us, causing an unnerving shiver to trickle down my spine. I knew our time was coming to an end, and with the subtle shift of his feet, he knew it too.

Neither of us were ready yet.

Neither of us wanted to be the first to pull away.

Neither of us were completely ready to end it.

…or so I thought.

And then I felt it—the slight twitch pulling his chest from mine. It was small and unnoticeable, but I knew what it meant. It was over. Within the next few seconds, the soft warmth I felt earlier was cloaked in a bone-chilling void. With every step he took away from me, a wound was carved deeper into my heart, causing a tight feeling in my chest.

His embrace.

His love.

His smile.

They’ve all faded into nothing.

So we stood there, neither of us making eye contact, as the streetlamps flickered off the snowy ground. Time stood still, neither of us wanting to move. Slowly, he shifted his weight. The sound of his boots crunching in the snow filled the unwanted silence.

“I’m sorry,” his words came out softly, as if he truly meant it. For a moment, I did believe him, but the sickly thought of his hand caressing another person's face flashed before me, his sweet smile shining bright for someone who wasn’t me.

“No.”

His head turned to me slowly, as if he was trying not to startle a wild animal, and gazed at me. His eyes took a while, slowly skimming my torso, moving to my neck, then settling on my eyes. His stare was different—something kind of sad, mixed with hurt and guilt. The guilt made sense, but the raw sadness in his dusty blue eyes made me question if he truly was sorry.

Sorry wasn’t good enough.

It never was.

I could see the tears swelling up in his eyes. “Plea—” his voice cracked, barely finishing the word. “Please forgive me, I don’t know what I was doing, I just—”

Before he could finish, the words slipped past my lips before I knew what was coming out. “No.”

“Baby, ple—”

I stopped him. “I said no,” I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. “No. We are not doing this. We are not going to dance around the truth. You’ve gone too far this time.” His stillness was unsettling, but so was my voice. There were no tears, no sniffles, not even a frown.

Grabbing my hands, he pulled me back into his chest. “Please let me explain!” His eyes searched mine in desperation, hoping I’d listen to his side and ‘understand.’ But I understood exactly what happened, and no matter how he tried to explain it, there was nothing that would change the truth or the pain.

“What is there to explain? Truly? What possible excuse do you think would save you from this?” Shoving him away from me, I felt my blood begin to boil. “Please!” I yelled at him, throwing my arms open. “Entertain me!” I felt the pressure building in my eyes as I held back the tears. “Let’s see what kind of bullshit excuse you can come up with for screwing my cousin.” My words barely came out above a whisper. Holding my head in my hands, the tears slipped through my fingers. “Truly,” I said, wiping the tears from my face with my hoodie sleeve.

He looked taken aback by my words, as if I was the one who cheated and destroyed everything we’d built together. Pushing his chest further from me, I took a few steps away from him, trying to create as much distance as possible.

“…I’m sorry…” was all he could muster.

“I’m tired of you saying sorry. I’m tired of you thinking this isn’t as big of a deal as it is,” I shot back, the anger building in my chest.

Without raising his head, “But Willow, I was drunk and it meant nothing, I swear.” Slowly and carefully, he croaked out, “You know I love you, right?”

There was a small silence that hung over us, waiting for me to agree with him. I could feel his heart reaching out, hoping I’d agree and everything would go back to how it was.

“If you truly loved me, you never would have cheated…”

The words rang out, echoing in the snowy parking lot. I saw a slight jerk of his head, as if I’d slapped him across the face with my words. Why does he deserve to feel hurt by my words? Why does he deserve a shoulder to cry on when he carved the hole in my soul?

“I promise, I still love you…” he whispered.

His words stung, because I would fight anyone for that love, but I’m not so sure I want it anymore. It feels stained, as if it had been trifled with. “Honestly, the sad thing is, I still do too.” His head rose. I could see the tears building up, but I didn’t care—not anymore. “But, that’s something I’ll have to come to terms with,” I finished, turning my back to him.

“What do you mean?”

Inhaling deeply, my breath came out in a puff of cold smoke. “You’ve destroyed everything we’ve built, Theo. You threw it all away for a one-night stand with my cousin. Do you truly think I would want to stay with you after that?”

He was silent.

Neither of us moved.

“That’s what I thought, Theo. You messed up, and you want me to make it better.” I turned toward him. “ME! The one who was cheated on.” I yelled at him, tears streaming down my face. “No, Theo, you do not get to be sad. You do not get to mourn this relationship. You do not get the pleasure of having your heart ripped out and a knife shoved through it.” Wiping the fallen tears from my cheek, I rubbed my temple, taking a cold, deep breath. “It’s over.”

His head shot up toward me, quickly taking steps toward me, trying to close the distance. “Wait, don’t make any final decisions. It doesn’t have to end like this.”

“You’re right, it didn’t have to end like this, but you picked this ending. You picked the worst possible ending,” I cried out, trying to keep the distance between us. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

He stopped and just gazed at me, heartbreak written all over his face. But you know what? It wasn’t my job to make that sad face happy again. He lost that privilege.

“I’m sorry,” were his final words.

But it didn’t matter. I scanned his face one last time, tears pouring endlessly from his eyes. Turning, I headed to my car, never looking back. I could hear him calling my name, begging me not to go, not to give up. But it was too late.