Roman
The pounding on the door kicks me out of my daydream.
I'm still sitting on the floor. My clothes wet with wine. The screen of the TV smashed. Juliette is gone.
I told her to run and she ran. She didn't even bother to pack her clothes. She bolted the second I told her to run and she didn't look back. I wish that she had looked back. I wish that she had tried to leave but found it impossible to step into the elevator. I wish that she had come back and forgiven me for everything. For lying to her. For betraying her. For deceiving her. I wish that she had found me in the shower and kissed my pain away. I wish that she had looked up and smiled at me and told me to get lost with her.
But life is not a fairytale. So that didn't happen. The second I told her to run, she ran like her life
