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Chapter Eight | Misery Loves Empathy
◦◦ Sawyer ◦◦
I felt so fucking pathetic, sitting across my dining room table from Kate while we quietly dug into the blueberry french toast I prepared for us not ten minutes ago. Her remarkable hazel eyes were aflame with questions I had no plans on answering, not because I didn’t want to...but I just couldn’t bring myself to get into what I’ve been so carefully avoiding. Not again. Risking another downward spiral didn’t sound like the sort of hellish party I wanted to attend.
That stuck up bitch in the old photograph Kate held in her hands before I grabbed and broke the frame encasing it, is my most recent EX girlfriend; A.K.A a prime cause for the majority of my slew of idiotic drunken escapades.
If one could even call her that. We weren’t official after all, but Violaine Gagnon gleefully yanked and played with my heart strings like the manipulative, master puppeteer she is...and the more
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