His Secret Desire

1 “I'm sorry but I'm breaking up with you” That was the first thing I saw when I woke up in the morning. It was only 5:30 in the morning and I'd just gotten up to use the bathroom, and there I was staring at my phone screen. With its jarring white light nearly blinding me, “... breaking up with you” was the only thing on the phone screen I could see. I knew who had sent the message, but I wanted to be in denial. So I checked the name of the sender, and as expected, it wasn't anyone other than him. Max Carlton, my boyfriend. Heart racing, I sat up on my bed and began contemplating what to do next. Should I text him? Should I call him? I could barely think. Hell, what should I even think? Who sends a breakup message in the earliest hours of the day? I snapped myself back to the present and the message was still there, glaring at me, rudely. Like an uninvited guest, except I couldn't tell it to go away. I could ignore it all I wanted but the message would still be there. But why? What did I do? I picked up the phone but it slipped from my sweaty palms and fell to the floor. I picked it up again and this time held it in my two hands, but my hands were shaky and I could barely type out a readable message. “Wgat did i so?” was my reply to his message. Though it didn’t seem like he needed a reply. It seemed more of an announcement. A stupid one. Like a not so well thought out decision. Like something he could say while he was drunk. Yeah, that made sense. He was probably drunk. That was the only reasonable explanation—that I'd accept. “Arw yoi drynk?” I didn't bother with the grammar, spelling, or readability. I wanted him to get in my head, to see how much his stupid mistake was ruining me. A moment later his reply popped onto the screen: “Are you?” he asked. I wiped the sweat off my palms on my night dress and stood up. I wasn't going to do this while sitting. Sitting would make me feel vulnerable, like he had control over me, like he could say whatever he wanted knowing it could ruin me and still get away with it. My shaky fingers managed to dial up his number, and after a few rings he picked his call. It was quiet. Dangerously quiet. “Max?” I called into the phone, hoping to hear another person's voice. Maybe it was some sort of prank and he was actually asleep. Or he was out drinking again, like I begged him not to…. “Are you okay?” “Yeah.” his voice immediately echoed mine. There was another silence. What was he so bold for? “So what do you mean you're breaking up with me?” I started. I could hear my own breath hitch but I wasn't going to let this get in the way. “Exactly what I said, Renee.” I was slightly taken aback. He'd never been so blunt, at least not to me. “w—why?” my voice was teary. How could he be so mean to me? I could hear the hesitation in his voice, and could mentally see him running his fingers through his dreads, “Listen, Renee. It's not anything you did… I just think we could go our separate ways—” “What about the future we planned together?” “Renee..” he sighed, “The—the plans, the future…. Everything?!” my voice was getting louder, “what the f**k about them now, Max?” “You have a whole life to figure that out with someone else…” “And what? Throw five years down the drain, is that it?” I snapped. “I'm just doing what's best for me, Renee.” And that was the breaking point, or better put, one of many breaking points. I spun around and realised that I'd been pacing around my room like a maniac for a man who never cared about me. Five solid years of putting us first and this was the thanks I got. It was almost comical. Almost. He went on saying other things that I couldn't hear over the ringing sound in my ears. I'd had enough. “f**k you, Max.” I spat. “Hey, don't be like that..” he croaked, “I'll call you later—” “No, you won't. You want it to be over well now it's over!” And I furiously hung up. Adrenaline rushed through my body making all my limbs shake like I'd just run a marathon. I fell to my bed in exhaustion. Tears I didn't know I was holding started pouring down from the sides of my eyes to the bed sheets. He was really gone. And I wasn't too sure how to survive without him. This had to be a dream. It felt too real, but it had to be a dream.