FALLING SHORT

Leila

“Is everything okay?” I asked Landon. He stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. It was an incredible sight. One that I had found myself so in awe of again and again, no matter how many years I had spent living in the penthouse. It took my breath away. It’s true my father really had taste.

The thought of him brought back memories I had tried so hard over the years to bury. To not think about them, because every time I did, tears threatened to spill out of my eyes. Whether I was in public or lying alone in bed at night, they always wanted to spill. I missed him every single day.

Shoving those thoughts to the back of my mind, I focused on the man before me. I leaned over the couch, watching him. With his hands shoved in his pockets, his black hair messy atop his head, wearing nothing but a dark blue shirt and some faded blue jeans, he looked incredible. He always did, no matter what he was wearing. A picture of perfect masculinity, one of the reasons I had fallen for him.

“I think we should break up.” I froze, my blood running cold in my veins. For a second, my heart stopped, and then it took off on a sprint, beating so loudly I believed the whole of Manhattan heard it.

I looked up to find him staring at me. His ocean blue eyes, which once held so much warmth for me, were cold. The intensity with which he looked at me caused me to want to squirm, but I didn’t move. I stayed frozen, waiting for him to burst out laughing and tell me he was playing one sick joke.

I waited, and none of that came. That’s when it occurred to me; he was dead serious. I could see it. See it in the dead set of his eyes, and not a flicker of indecision passed through them. Still, I waited. Waited for him to change his mind. Sadly, he had already made up his mind.

“What are you talking about?” I asked as if I hadn’t heard him. I heard him loud and clear, and if I were being honest, I don’t know why I was asking. Did I think he would take it back? If yes, then I was in for a reckoning.

“You heard me, Leila, but if you want me to repeat it, I will,” he paused. Those arms were still deep in his pockets. His handsome face was set in grim lines. His dead set of his eyes promised nothing but pain. I could already feel it. A prickling near my heart, one that threatened to grow even stronger the longer I stared at him.

“We should break up. Or rather, I think I need to say it like this: I’m breaking up with you.” I drew the cardigan I was wearing closer to my body as if it would shield me from his words. Words that threatened to destroy my world because that’s what Landon was to me. My entire world.

“Tell me what happened,” I said, my voice so even, betraying nothing of the storm that blew inside me.

“I’m not feeling it anymore. I used to think that I loved you; I guess I was just fooling myself all along. You’re not what I need, and I would hurt to string you along.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered, my words low enough that I doubted he could hear me. He chuckled, the sound low but mocking. It washed over my skin, causing goose bumps to erupt. He sounded so cold, so distant. I clutched the cardigan harder, thinking it would douse the cold inside me, it didn’t.

“Look at you, I’m telling you that I don’t love you, and you’re disagreeing with that? I guess what the media says about you is true. You’re arrogant.” He stalked towards me, each step taken with care, his eyes daring me to disagree with his statement.

Perhaps I was arrogant, but I knew what we felt for each other was true. There was no lie in it. This was something bigger. There was something he was hiding from me.

“Landon, listen—” I started, but he placed his index finger to my lips, silencing me.

“Don’t draw this out. It was fun while it lasted. I can’t pretend to love you anymore.” He removed his finger from my lips. This time, his touch didn’t leave the heat I once was familiar with. It only left an icy feeling behind. One that threatened to swallow me whole.

“I guess I will have something to boast about. I fucked the Leila Collins, and she loved it.” I stepped away from him, a tear sliding down my cheeks. I quickly wiped it away. He didn’t miss it, though; he tracked my every move, his blue eyes cold. Not caring that he was destroying me. That’s when I knew he really never loved me, because if he did, he wouldn’t cause me all this agony.

“It was nice knowing you,” he said. When I thought he would leave, he stepped even closer, his hand going to the back of my head and placed a kiss to my forehead. “You will find some…” he trailed off, and before I could say anything, he was gone. I stayed rooted in place, my heart beating like a failing engine. The coldness spread, followed by the pain that caused me to sink to the ground.

And then, the floodgates opened. Tears streamed down my face in rivulets, my body shaking with the sobs I had tried to suppress. It hurt so much. The agony was blinding. My chest felt like someone was stabbing it with a blunt knife repeatedly.

I knew loss. My father’s death had taken its toll on me. Back then, it threatened to split me apart the same as this pain. I spent a solid year crying myself to sleep. For the first time in my life, I felt alone, and that had changed when I met him.

From the first time we met, the loneliness vanished as if it had never been there. He taught me how to smile again. Most of all, he understood me better than everyone around me. I thought I would never be alone again, but I guess I was wrong.