002: "THING", ME?

Yara’s POV

Did he really just say that to me?

Whispers started in the crowd, then widespread laughter.

Talia’s poisonous smile was the worst of it. Perfect red lips curved up like she’d just won a prize. She had. Me. My life. My man.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. I just stood there while three hundred people watched Jeriah Hart dissect me on a stage.

He wasn’t done.

"You want to know what my problem is?" He looked around the room then back at me. "This. This is my problem. Seven years and every single time I had something important, you would show up and do exactly this."

"Jeriah..."

"I'm talking here, shut up!! Seven years I walked into rooms with you and watched people's faces twist with disgust. For seven years I made excuses. Seven years I apologized for bringing you places." He shook his head. "I was embarrassed. Every single time."

"You never said that to me," I said, pathetically. "Not once."

"Because I felt sorry for you."

I heard someone near the front laugh. 

"Felt sorry for me," I repeated.

"What did you think was happening? You really believed I was in love with you? Like that?" He looked me up and down slowly.

"Do you even think any man here, any athlete, would want to be seen with something like you?"

Something.

He actually referred to me as a thing.

My hands curled into fists. My nails bit my palms yet the pain kept me upright.

Talia slid in then. Fake sweet. She placed her manicured hand on his chest like she was calming a wild animal.

“Baby,” she cooed, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Be gentle with her. You wouldn’t want her to burst out crying now.”

Her eyes dragged down my body. 

“Considering how her clothes are already struggling with her.”

Laughter burst in the room. It stabbed into me from every direction. 

I felt everyone’s eyes on my hips. My stomach. The black dress I’d starved myself for. The zipper I’d prayed would hold.

Heat crawled up my neck. My ears rang but Talia wasn’t finished.

“Oh, you poor thing,” she sighed. Then she reached into her diamond clutch and pulled out a blade.

“Here.” Her smile was venom. “Let me help ease the pressure.”

She stepped toward me. 

The crowd went silent. Waiting, phones up. Recording.

I didn't know what she was planning until she grabbed the hem of my dress. 

No. 

The knife pressed against fabric. 

Shrrrip.

She cut. 

All the way to my thigh.

Cold air kissed my skin. The slit gaped open, exposing my leg, my scars, everything I hated. 

Gasps. Then more laughter. Flashes blinded me.

Something inside me snapped and I grabbed her wrist. 

Her eyes flew wide. “You...”

Then I shoved her, hard.

She stumbled back with a dramatic little shriek. Right into Jeriah’s arms.

He caught her quickly. Then his head whipped to me, fury twisting his face. The face I used to kiss goodnight.

“Are you out of your mind?” he bellowed. “You touch her again and I’ll...”

I didn’t let him finish. 

I stepped up to both of them. My legs shook but I made them stop. 

I looked him dead in the eye. Seven years. Seven years of my life poured into him. 

Then I spit, right at their feet.

“I hope you both rot in hell.”

Talia gasped. Jeriah’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Good.

I turned. 

My chin lifted. My spine straightened. I wouldn’t give them my tears. I wouldn’t give them my breakdown. 

I walked. 

Each click of my broken heel on marble sounded too loud. The whispers chased me.

“Trash.”

“Fat cow.”

“No wonder he upgraded.”

The slit in my dress flapped against my bare thigh. Exposed.

The doors finally opened. 

New York air hit me like a slap. I didn’t stop, nor did I look back. 

I heard him on the mic behind me. “Thank you all for supporting me and Talia through this…transition.”

Transition huh?

So my entire life was just a phase to him?

Something he upgraded from?

I walked until the ballroom noise faded. Until my feet bled in my heels. Until I couldn’t hear my own heart shattering anymore.

Home. I needed to get home. To the apartment I paid for. To the bed where I held him when he had nightmares about failing.

It took an hour. I didn't look at a single face throughout the walk.

When I turned onto our street, my chest loosened for the first time. 

Then I saw two black trash bags sitting on the sidewalk like garbage.

My name was scribbled on the side in thick marker. 

YARA.