Me Clean Romane & Geschichten

"Clean up this mess. And open the vault. My son wants his mother."

me up. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I shook off the lingering numbness and focused on cleaning up. I started with the groceries, salvaging what I could and discarding what was ruined. Each movement felt mechanical, like my body was moving on autopilot while my mind replayed every cruel word I'd heard today. The floor was a disaster-muddy footprints and water streaks everywhere. I grabbed a mop and cleaned it all up, refusing to let the mess stay a second longer than necessary.

He points to the McKenzie file scattered across the floor. “Now get on your hands and knees and clean up your mess.” I don’t even have to force the words, “Right away, sir.”

Instead, he focused on explaining the basics of skiing, keeping the conversation light and effortless. Sports were the best medicine for pain. By the time we finished skiing, my chest no longer felt so heavy. Drake drove me home. Before I got out of the car, he said, "If Chris gives you trouble again, tell me immediately." That night, I went straight to my study and took out the wedding dress sketches I once designed and old photos of Chris and me. Then, I burned them all to ash. Now, there was no longer any trace of my past with Chris.

Over a million a year. She was paying back every cent.

A clean break. Not this.

Mortification made my cheeks burn as I stooped to carefully pick the shards off the floor, but Dimitri had already beat me to it. "I'm sorry," I murmured. "It's okay. Leave it. I got it." "Careful now, dear so you don't cut yourself," said Amelia's voice from behind me as my fingers brushed against a particularly jagged looking piece of glass. She too joined in clearing up the mess. I ventured a look at Summer. She remained seated, but was looking on at the scene with evident enjoyment. She knew that seeing her with Dimitri had made me do this. Her eyes met mine. A faint smirk played around her lips.

With my head held low, I return to the kitchen and begin the task of cleaning the table, meticulously clearing away the remnants and placing everything in the garbage or near the sink, ready for a thorough wash and cleanse. While I meticulously clean the table's surface, my thoughts race, contemplating the circumstances that have brought me to this point in time. The betrayal, the heartbreak, the loss — it all feels so overwhelming. But in this moment, as I meticulously clean each surface, I find a strange sense of solace. The repetitive motion of wiping away the dirt and grime becomes almost therapeutic, allowing me to momentarily forget the pain that still lingers within me.