Chapter 1: Rock bottom
Miracle's POV
Steve's hand touched my cheek, rough and demanding. "Ira… open your eyes. Come on baby, open your eyes."
That voice. I knew that voice. It used to be filled with honeyed perfectness, now it was tainted with the sound of betrayal.
That voice now belonged to the man who'd slipped into this very bathroom to fuck his "best friend" while I picked at anniversary dessert few feet away.
My eyelids fluttered open.
Don't show him. Don't let him see.
"Ira…oh thank God!"
The first thing I saw was his devil blue eyes and the bridge of his broken nose.
I did that. I broke his nose.
His lips curled and his eyes were cloudy just a little bit as he stared down on me.
"There you are, sweet thing. I thought I lost you there for a second" Steve's voice echoed.
I watched him. Steve Jackson, my boyfriend of two years. You couldn't believe what I sacrificed for him. For our relationship - I gave up my my birthright as hybrid princess to the richest country in Astoria and I gave up my family for him.
He never knew. He has no clue just how powerful my family really was. He has no idea who's daughter i was.
Not a single clue.
I tried to sit upright but the raging headache was a good motivator to sit still.
I blinked.
My lips were dry and I was very thirsty.
"I feel dizzy," I stated, voice flat. Detached. I like I was reading a book report.
"It's a nasty fall you took, Ira. You hit your head on the sink. Paramedics are coming but the bleeding has stopped." His tone was brisk. Practical. Like we were discussing a spilled drink not my broken skull.
My eyes locked on his. He didn't flinch.
"I didn't fall. You shoved me. To protect her"
"Sorry." He mumbled.
The word hung there, confirming what I already knew: he wasn't sorry for the act, only the inconvenient consequence lying before him.
I pulled myself upright,my muscles screaming as I ignored his offered hand.
Never touch me again. I almost yelled at him.
The movement sent fresh warmth trickling down my temple. I ignored that too. Blood was easier than tears.
"We should talk, Ira."
"About what?" I asked him "About you abandoning our anniversary to fuck Lisa in the bathroom? About you shoving me? Or about me bleeding out on this filthy floor while you look mildly inconvenienced?"
His gaze flickered away at the mention of blood.
"Dunno," he mumbled.
It was always one word answers with him…always a shrug, always an almost argument with him.
Why did I stay with him when it was clear he bailed on me a long time ago?
I am rich. You have no idea how rich I am!
"Why her?" My voice didn't waver. "Because of the money?" I could buy this restaurant and salt the earth it stood on.
The truth burned behind my teeth unspoken.
"Doesn't hurt. But… she doesn't need me. Not like you do, Ira."
"MY NAME IS MIRACLE NOT IRA!" I screamed at him and it shook the entire restaurant.
My heart squeezed. I didn't let him see it though.
But needy?
That's a horrible word to hear from a man you spend two years of your life loving unconditionally.
It's not a word a girl wants to hear from a man she would gladly lay down her life for.
Needy…it's such a nasty word to say to a girl slowly bleeding out on a dirty bathroom floor
"Last month, when I was out of town and I phoned you numerous times and they all went to voicemail, were you with Lisa in our apartment?" I asked him.
"Yes" he answered bluntly.
I exhaled.
I felt the need…no, no I hate that word now, I felt the intense urge to be anywhere but here.
Anywhere but this moment watching the man I love answer questions that was potentially ruining my mental health with such ease that made puking very desirable right about now.
I watched him.
How was this easy for him?
I would go to hell and back…and I mean that literally before I hurt him the way he was hurting me right now.
I could never stand by idly while he was in pain without doing something to levitate that pain.
How many times did I put aside my heartache and my own pain to tend to his own?
Even now, all I can think about was how incredibly difficult it must be for him to stand there and answer all of these questions I was asking.
Even now, I am more worried about his feelings than my own.
What does that make me?
A fool perhaps?
"How long? How long, Steve?" I asked him.
"Almost a year"
My breath caught in my throat. A year…a freaking year?
That was half of the time we were together.
"You are going to burn in hell"
Author's note:
A word For Miracle