On the last night of my life, I was sipping green minty tea at the kitchen table. The light was dim, shades pulled shut allowing only one dainty stream of light to enter my domain. Everything was calm, the calm before the storm.
When I held my daughter in my arms, my heart was filled with heavyness, it was sickening knowing where she came from, the reason why I had given her up.
I remember the encounter perfectly, Jace with the charming smile running his hand along the base of my thigh. I had enjoyed it allowing him to take me all the way, soft kisses along the neck, and places open to all his eyes. It hurts, the fact that I was so easy...so easy for him to hurt me.
It was a one night stand, I never saw him again afterword.
He had left, clothes vanishing from the floor, blankets twisted around my legs, other side of the bed empty. I had cried that day, tears running down my cheeks like miny rivers, warm and soft I couldn't stop. I thought he loved me, but of course the way most men think....My body was his only priority.
I'm tired of all this trouble, all this pain...Funny I named my daughter after him, she is two now living with her grandmother. I belive she barely knows me, I'm not much in her life. Only a postcard now and then for the holidays, and a birthday card on Fri. 14...Yes, I try to be there but a part of me knows...she is from him.