Falling For My Ex

Chapter Three - You mean nothing

Sydney

I head for my shower, finally, frustrated. I was on my way for it when Justin started knocking on my door. I can’t believe he followed me here. I probably shouldn’t be surprised. He can sit outside all he wants; I refuse to back down and let him in.

I switch the shower on, remove my bathrobe and step into it. I rest against the wall, close my eyes and enjoy the warm water running over my body. I am so stressed and tense; Justin showing up has made everything worse, which I didn’t think was possible. I don’t even know why he is back. I am sure he made a life for himself in London.

I push him to the back of my mind and try relaxing. I finally clear my thoughts and enjoy my shower, but after ten minutes, I start to overthink again. I groan in annoyance! The fucker has ruined my plans to make me feel better. I climb out, slip a towel around me and head back through. I sit on the bed and take my phone from the bedside unit. I notice a message from Facebook in my notification from Justin. I don’t have him on here. There seems to be something attached.

I stare at it for a moment, deciding whether to open it or now. I do. I am surprised to see a photo of us, one from the year before he left when we were in Belfast. I didn’t think he would still have any. I thought he would have deleted every trace of me when he started his new life without me. I still have all my photos of us, of him, but they are locked away in a folder because it was getting too much looking at them after he left. I fight with myself, wondering if I should reply. But after a moment, I decide not to. I toss my phone aside and sigh. If I ignore his message and the fact that he is outside for long enough, he will hopefully leave.

I dry off and change into some pjs. I haven’t unpacked my things. I don’t see the point since I won’t be here long. I am living out of a suitcase for right out. I could stay with my parents, but I refuse. I am a grown-ass woman; I shouldn’t need to run back to them. Plus, they will tell me how they told me so. My parents weren’t fans of Warren, especially my dad. He said he got a bad vibe from him, but I insisted he was wrong. I thought he was wrong, but yet, here we are four years later, and my dad couldn’t have been righter.

I take a look through the peephole to see if I can see Justin, but I can’t. Did he leave? Fingers crossed, he did. There is one way to find out. I open the door, and when I do, my question is answered when Justin ends up on his back on the floor in front of me. Damn it!

I glare down at him.

He smiles brightly at me, “Hello again.” He chuckles.

“Why are you still here?” I whine.

“Where else would I be?”

“Anywhere that isn’t here!” I snap.

Justin sits up, which blocks the way of me closing the door.

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere. I meant it, Sydney.”

I toss my hands in the air and groan in frustration, “Whatever. I am going to bed. Stay or go, I really don’t give a damn, but we aren’t talking, so you should just leave.”

I shake my head, switch the lights off and head for the bed, leaving him sitting on the floor. Can’t he take a fucking hint? In what world does he live in that makes him think I want to talk or see him? Does he not realise he ripped my damn heart out?

I slip under the covers, my back to him. I hear him move, and the door closes, hopefully behind him as he leaves. I am soon disappointed when I hear his footsteps still in the room.

“You do realise I could get someone up here to remove you from my room, right?” I say.

“Yes, but you won’t because even if you won’t admit it, I know you have missed me.”

He sounds so confident in his words. I can’t see his face, but I am positive he will have the darn famous smirk playing on his lips right now.

“Not even in the slightest.” I bark.

I hear him sigh and come closer to the bed. I feel the bottom of it dip.

“Sydney, please? I am sorry, okay? I should never have left you. I was an idiot.” He says softly.

“A little too late. You still are one.”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

I can hear the sadness in his voice.

“Because I don’t want to! I want nothing to do with you. The day you left is the day you stopped meaning anything to me.”

That is a complete lie. He always has and always will mean something to me, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You don’t mean that,” he whimpers.

“I do.”

He stands from the bed, “I am sorry I made you hate me, Sydney.” He whispers, and the sound of his footsteps fades.

The hotel door opens and closes. I feel the tears brim in my eyes once I know I am alone. Justin is not what I needed tonight. I didn’t think it would still hurt seeing him after five years, but it does. It is like I am suffering from two different heartbreaks at one time.

I swear I don’t think I could handle any else going wrong. All I want is to shut myself away from the world for the next couple of days. I hate that I feel things so damn much and strongly. I wish I couldn’t feel anything sometimes. Life would be much easier if I were emotionless.

I wipe my tears away, pull the covers right up to my chin and close my eyes. I need sleep. I am exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically. The last few days have been way too much! Maybe I should run away. Disappear to another country for a couple of months, but would that really help? Who knows? I need to do something because I can’t continue to feel so sad, pathetic and vulnerable.

God, why are men assholes? I am sure they all aren’t, but the ones I seem to know or love are. Single life sounds appealing for at least six months or longer.