The Petals

“Well if I’m such a bad boyfriend, why don’t you fucking leave?”

“Maybe I will! Maybe then I won’t have to deal with such an asshole!”

“So you admit it? You admit you’re a fucking cheater.” Matt planted himself on the edge of his bed and crossed his arms, his face twisted in anger.

Jessie rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“Keep saying it, I’m not gonna believe you.”

“You don’t have to, but I’m telling you the truth. That guy came on to me, not the other way around. He bought me a drink that I didn’t want, and -”

“Y’know, you females think you’re so good at lying, but I can see right fucking through you -”

“I don’t even know him!” Jessie threw her arms up in frustration. “I really don’t! If you would just fucking listen to me, we could talk about this shit – we could talk about how you missed another goddamn therapy appointment today.”

“I didn’t -”

“You clearly did -”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t even need the therapy if I wasn’t dating a lying, cheating whore!” He slammed his fist into the wall, the drywall cracking apart easily. Jessie flinched, but Matt took no notice, stomping up to shove his nose right up in her face. His face was red with anger. “You can take your shit, and GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” he hollered. Tears were streaming down Jessie’s flushed face, but he didn’t seem to care – in fact, part of him seemed to revel in it. His voice dropped to a low growl. “You better be gone by the time I get back, or I’ll make sure your little bar boyfriend never sees you again, you piece of shit little slut.”

—————

Here’s to a whole 6 months with the love of my life, the caption read, and hopefully many more. I love you so much, Matthew!

“Bullshit,” Jessie said out loud, scowling at the hearts-and-smiles picture of her ex with one of the girls they’d gone to school with. The screen was bright, and cast a colorful glow on her face in the setting-sunlight of her bedroom. It hadn’t taken him very long to move on, she could tell. Three years of her life spent putting up with him in the name of some sick sort of love, all down the drain. And this new bitch had no idea what she was in store for her.

Six months. That was roughly how long it had taken for him to start showing his true colors. Jessie knew how it would go. It would start with him getting annoyed over little things that didn’t even matter in the grand scheme of the relationship. Then he’d ask the poor girl to delete that one guy who’d been following her Instagram for maybe a month. Then a few more guys, then her brother and her dad, if she had either. Then suddenly he’d be monitoring all her social media use. Then he’d scream at her for things out of her control, like men glancing at her while they were out.

She sighed, sitting up in bed and gazing at herself in the mirror hung up on her closet door. What did she have, physically, that he didn’t want? She had tits that were big enough to strain against the thin straps of her white tank top, the fabric of which did nothing to hide the shadow of her perky pink nipples. She had a lovely toned body, thick in all the right places, and even sitting down, she could see a curve in her hips that suggested a well-endowed ass. Her soft pajama shorts were tiny, and a camel-toe had formed thanks to her pussy lips being freshly shaven. Her hair was long and dark brown, and her eyes sparkled bright green.

What did the new girl have that she didn’t?

She laid back down, resting on her side. Her gaze fell on the beautifully potted flower that he had once given her, with its purple petals that faded to white at the tips, and the weird little yellow globules sticking out of the center of it. She had learned what they were called the day he gave it to her – pistils. He had never told her where he got it from. She had questioned him multiple times, and every time, he had deflected the question, saying he didn’t remember, or he couldn’t pronounce the name, or it was some random shop in the city.

Bullshit. It was all bullshit. He was bullshit. His gifts were bullshit, his new girlfriend was bullshit, his love was bullshit. All of it.

Infuriated and irrational, she huffed and chucked her phone at the plant, shattering the little clay pot. Soil spilled over her desk and the flower wilted slightly, and she suddenly felt bad for it. The poor thing didn’t deserve that. She stood up, scooping the flower up gently with a handful of soil to protect its roots – and immediately dropped it, her heart pounding.

Was it just her imagination, tricking her into thinking the roots had reached down through the soil to wrap gently around her fingers? It must be. She was just upset, and she wasn’t thinking clearly. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward and stroked one of the petals. It was soft, like silk. “You’re just a reminder of him, you know,” she said out loud. “You didn’t ask to be, but you are.” As pretty as it was, she wanted to get rid of it. She was done thinking about stupid, controlling, abusive Matt. Done.

She picked up the flower with a handful of soil again, carried it to the kitchen and placed it in a small vase, then headed out the front door. Living in such a small apartment, she had no garden to plant the flower, and wasn’t even sure she wanted to keep it so close to home.

But maybe the lake that was only 45 minutes away would welcome the little plant.

The drive was quiet, with only the radio and Jessie’s soft humming along to break the monotonous buzzing silence of the road. Finally she pulled up to the dusty lookout where cars could park. The sun had gone down completely and the moon had risen, meaning that hardly anyone was here. A young couple were standing by their car, packing away their deflated pool floats and sunscreen bottles.