Dirty Lace Page #3

• Fiction

								

Swiftly wrapping my fingers around the drink, I inhaled sharply and swung my arm. My eyes widened as I watched the glass shatter, miniscule shards penetrating his skin. Deep red ran down his face, mixing with the drink and soaking his hair.
My breath staggered as I watched the smile that remained on his face, not once broken.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He let out a surprised laugh.
I glanced down at the counter, to see the martini glass in its full form. Pristine and shiny, the drink to its brim. Turning my head back to the man, I observed his face.
Glassless and bloodless.
I gripped the counter to hold myself up as my knees buckled. My palms, now clammy, slipped against the surface. “I’m…”
“What’s wrong, Cleo?” Felix asked.
No, it was still the man at the bar. And yet he sounded nothing like himself, and all like Felix.
The room spun ever so slightly as the pit in my stomach grew. The cold shivers across my skin made me run for the bathroom.
My knees gave in as I heaved into the toilet bowl that was stained in yellow and brown. My forearms rested on the cracked seat, as I gasped for air. The flush lever remained useless as I closed the lid with a loud thump that echoed across the tiled walls.
Wiping the corner of my mouth on the back of my hand, I sat down on the toilet. I rested my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands. Hopeless and lost, just like I was at the start. My steps forward had only taken me back.
 
I blinked back any tears that threatened to spill, pushing down any regret that I was bound to feel. I could have been at the wedding, on the dancefloor with my other half. The circumstances dawned on me, as I questioned my need to pursue a false sense of freedom. Free from what? A healthy relationship? A happy future?
 
Sighing, I stood up and walked to the scratched, graffitied mirror. My pale eyes meet the big bright ones in the reflection. Her dress was painfully bright with no smudges or streaks of any kind. The bouquet in her hand stood happy and alive. Her cheeks remained flush as she looked back at me through her veil. A veil I once hated, that I would say yes to in a heartbeat.
 
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