Chapter 1 - Ariella
I ran…
Just ran and ran and ran…
Out of my apartment, out of the building and onto the street.
Tears ran down my face as if my eyes were oceans filled with pain – I was hurting, my heart was in agony. It felt like my heart was being squished, pulled apart, yanked out of my chest, and trampled on the ground. I couldn’t even breathe but my legs and feet carried me, my heart too exhausted but doing it’s best to pump blood and keep me alive.
Finally reaching a park, my feet begin to slow down, allowing me to catch my breath. I sit down at the nearest bench, bringing my legs up so that I am sitting in a mediation position. If this is what dying feels like, I might just see the pearly gates soon. I can control my breathing better now and my heartbeat slows down as I try to clear my head. Once my body is relatively relaxed and under control, it hits me all over again like lightning striking a withered tree twice…
I went home a little earlier than expected because today is my birthday, and my boss gave me the rest of the early afternoon off. As I leave work, I smile to myself knowing I get to start my birthday celebration early, with the man that I love.
I walk into my apartment, shaking my head at the thought of my careless boyfriend who left the door unlocked. I’m so excited to surprise him with my early arrival more than my birthday plans. But when I step into my living room, my body goes cold, and I feel my heart plummet. My body begins to shake and break out into cold sweats as I walk down the hall to our bedroom. My ears begin to ring as the sounds fill my head. “He wouldn’t,” I say in my head. With tears welling in my eyes, I reach my bedroom door and with shaky hands, I grab the doorknob. I push the door open and stand frozen at the entrance of my bedroom, taking in the scene before me. There he is, the man I love, buried deep inside another woman on my bed. It takes a few minutes for me to sort my emotions and the pain of betrayal slowly creeps into my heart and my chest tightens. My boyfriend quickly scrambles to his feet and the lady covers herself with my sheets. I don’t know when my feet begin working but they do and I run. I don’t even know if he ran after me because after a faint, “Babe, lis-“ I was already out of my apartment. And before I knew it, I was already hyperventilating on a park bench, replaying the most painful day of my life.
And now I’m here, crying over a man I had planned my future with. The pain is too much to bear. I fisted the top of my dress that covered my chest in an attempt to soothe the tightening again as I balance myself with my left hand on the bench. This fucking hurts. This was not just an emotional pain, no.
This is the kind of pain that cuts off oxygen to your lungs and brain.
This is the kind of pain that feels like your chest is caving in.
This is the kind of pain that paralyzes your entire body.
This is the kind of pain that severs your heart from its place.
This is the kind of pain that convinces you that you’re going to die…
I dedicated almost four years of my life to this man that I thought was my future husband, the man that I gave my everything to. He was my world. My start and finish. He was all I looked forward to after work. He was the one I wanted to come home to everyday and cuddle in bed and tell him about my day.
Yet this same man that made this same heart beat is making this same heart bleed.
Not once have I ever doubted him or even thought that he could do this but there he was, with another woman on our bed- my bed. The same bed that we fell asleep in each other’s arms and woke up next to in. The same bed that comforted us in difficult times. The same bed in which we made love, countless times. This same man that I loved broke this same heart by soiling that same bed.
I couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing. How could he? Was she better? I am the problem? Was I not good enough? Those thoughts just wounded me deeper.
I sit at the park for hours, now hugging my knees to my chest and sobbing softly. I experienced so many emotions in one afternoon that I feel so lightheaded now. My boyfriend (if he still is) has been calling me for hours now but I’ve ignored every call. Every time the caller ID read, “Greyson” I just let it ring. After an hour, my phone rings again.
Annoyed, I look down at the screen ready to finally explode on him when I saw the caller ID read, “Mom”. Marie Foster, my mother - well adoptive mother - is an amazing woman. I love her with all of my heart, but I can’t tell her anything right now. She’s Greyson’s number one fan. I wipe my tears and clear my throat so that I can speak properly.
“Hello?” I speak softly, trying my best to sound normal.
“Ariella? Where are you? We planned on meeting tonight at 7pm and you’re not here. I called up Greyson too and he says you haven’t come home yet!”
My mother freaks out on the phone and I scoff at her mentioning Greyson. Seriously? Does he think I will be coming back to him?
“I know, um, sorry. I’m not feeling it tonight. I’m going to go out with my friends, bye!” I hang up immediately before she can say anything else.
Once I cut the call, I look around me and realize how long I’ve been out here. It’s absolutely dark so I know it's night and it’s a lot colder now. I check my phone and see that the time is currently 21:36 and I sigh. Today took too much out of me and I just need rest.
I wipe away whatever tears remain on my face and stand up, pulling myself together with one deep breath and letting it all go with a strong exhalation. Before leaving the park, I call up the cleaning department at my apartment building and tell them to thoroughly clean my apartment, especially my bedroom.
After hanging up, I decide to walk to wherever I want to go. I call up a hotel nearby and book it for a few nights. When I get there, I go to the front desk and check in as well as ordering a bottle of tequila. I grab my keycard from the friendly receptionist and head up to my room.
While in the elevator, I come across a cute older couple and it brings tears to my eyes. I always saw Greyson and I growing old together like this, but I never knew all those hopes and dreams could get crushed in the matter of minutes.
I rush out of the elevator as soon as it reaches my floor and I head straight to my room. I scan the keycard and slam the door shut as soon as I get inside.
My chest starts tightening again and I know my anxiety is back. I slide down the door so that I can sit down and lean back, slowly breathing in and out. Eventually, my beathing gets better and I am able to stand up and throw my coat off.
All I can think of is when the bottle of tequila will be here and as if on que, my doorbell rings. I open the door and room service is there with a cloth, the bottle of tequila, and a shot glass. He greets me as he rolls the trolley into my room before placing the tray down on the table, nodding his head and leaving before saying, “Enjoy.”
It is now 23:06 and I have the worst headache ever. I quickly shower and throw on just the robe provided before putting on some soft music and opening the tequila. The first few shots taste awful and burn my throat.
“Wow, it's been a while, huh?” I say to myself as I look at the shot glass. I down three more shots before I start feeling light and almost numb.
I slowly lie back, down on the bed and basking in my drunken bliss and I close my eyes and smile. There’s just something so comforting about drowning everything in alcohol and pretending like it doesn’t exist, even if its temporary.
I don’t know how late it gets before I’m whispering, “Happy 23rd birthday. You’re gonna be okay, princess,” and passing out. I, Ariella Foster, will not be dragged down by my heart.
