It was a chilly fall night; the sky was clear, and a chilly wind blew through the streets and alleys. It wasn’t yet late enough for ice or snow, but the wind still had a bite in it. In a nondescript town, somewhere far away, a lone person was walking down the minor roads and back alleys. Émilie. Émilie Érable. A 25-year-old woman.
She was dressed in a black skirt, black tights, white heels, a pastel-pink shirt with a white frilly hem, and a pink woven jacket over all. She had long blonde hair with the tips dyed pink. She had a pink, woolly cap on, pulled tight and low, almost to her eyes. And from the other direction, her mask was high up, almost touching her eyes. She had large round eyeglasses on. The overall result was that only her eyes were barely exposed to the cold.
She had pink woven mittens on, and she had tucked her hands in them in the jacket’s pockets. Her grayish, greenish eyes were swollen and red. She had been crying; and in fact, she was still sobbing as she walked.
In her pocket, her phone went off every which way to Sunday. It buzzed, it beeped. Messages on different platforms, phone calls, video calls, you name it. She ignored it all.
There was no way she could look at the phone and now and not fall apart and cry again. She wished fervently that none of the messages was from the person she had just left: Nina Evans. Ninny. Nin.
Émilie’s crush for a long time, her girlfriend for a short amount of time; and now, as of half an hour ago, her ex.
Émilie had gone to visit her on her way home, but when she arrived, there was an unknown car parked in front of her house. Émilie didn’t really pay attention to it, thinking it might be her brother or parents visiting.
She went in and was just about to yell for Nina when she heard noises. Noises that should not come from a house where a girl in a relationship lived (and while her SO wasn’t there!)
Émilie felt a lump in her throat. She knew already what that meant, but from some morbid desire, she wanted to know for sure.
She opened the inner front door leading to the living room just a bit, and peeked inside. And she saw something that she would never forget, but what she would wish with all her heart wouldn’t have happened in the first place.
A guy was nailing her girlfriend on her couch! She had her ankles on the guy's shoulders, and they were going at it without a care in the world.
Without really knowing why, Émilie took her ring off her finger and placed it on her palm. She looked at it and felt her eyes burn and her chest tighten. There was a massive pressure inside her chest and her eyes burned and begged for the releasing tears. Émilie refused the tears and bit her lip to stop them from coming. She slammed the door open and yelled at the copulating couple.
"Was this what you wanted all the time, Nin?" Émilie screamed. "Was I not enough? Was everything you told me a lie? Men are slimy? You are not attracted to men at all? You’d never let... never let any man touch you, there? Like he’s currently doing?" she yelled, and anger burned in her eyes.
"Em…" Nina said, and rose up.
The guy was awkwardly left standing beside the couch with a huge boner and a frustrated expression on his face.
Émilie swallowed hard as Nina walked towards her.
She was naked; her breasts swayed as she walked. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun on top of her head. Locks of slight curls had escaped and flowed onto her face. Her cheeks were red, and she was breathing heavily. Her blue eyes were sad. Her hands twitched and tried to find a hem to fiddle with but found nothing.
Émilie closed her eyes and tried not to think about the glistening wetness that dribbled down her inner thighs.
"Was everything a lie, Ninny?" she yelled, and opened her eyes. She looked straight into Nina’s eyes and found her answer there.
Nina didn’t answer her.
Émilie’s lip quivered. She opened her hand and looked at the ring. "Forever Yours," it said.
Émilie looked straight into Nina’s eyes and threw the ring at her feet. "We’re done, Nina," she said, and turned around.
"Em… Let me explain…" Nina said, and reached for Émilie.
She turned around and looked at Nina. Émilie couldn’t hold it anymore and her eyes were red and tears were running down her cheeks.
"Explain?!" she yelled. "How do you explain a dick inside you? How do you explain laying on your sofa with your ankles on a guy’s shoulders while he’s balls deep in you, fucking you like a stupid, angry bear? How do you explain that to your girlfriend, Nina, how? How do you explain having sworn never to touch a man? How do you explain saying you’re a lesbian that has no desire to even look at a man, let alone touch one? How do you explain that, Nina? How do you explain it while you’re so wet you leave damp spots on your living room floor because he was fucking you?"
Nina opened her mouth to say something, but Émilie shook her head and closed her eyes. She wiped the tears off her cheeks and pointed down to the ring.
"You can have that back. ‘Forever’ lasted slightly less than you promised, I don’t need it anymore. Don’t call me, Nin. Don’t talk to me. I never want to see your face ever again!" she yelled, turned around, walked out, and slammed the doors shut behind her.
So there she was, walking down the back alleys alone, her phone going crazy in her pocket. Tears falling from her eyes in a sad downpour, she pulled the phone out. 74 new messages. Twelve missed calls. Seven missed video calls. 45 discord notifications. And 237 more notifications. All except one from Nina.
Émilie closed her eyes, cleared the notifications and set the phone on silent. She opened it and looked at the one message which was not from Nina, a message from a friend she hadn’t seen in a while: Melinda.
Émilie and Melinda were good friends. Not like BFFs that spent every waking moment together, but friends that met a few times a week and hung out regularly.
Émilie opened the message.
(Melinda) I’m so sorry. I heard about Nina. Call me if you want. I’ll listen.
How’d she heard about it already? And.. never mind.
Émilie couldn’t handle that right now and threw the phone back into her pocket and continued to wander around. She reached a small park and found a bench. Sitting down on it, all walls and facades broke down and the waterworks broke out in full force. Émilie buried her face in her hands and cried and screamed with everything she had.
After a while, the tears ended, but the sadness didn’t. Her eyes just burned and begged for more tears, but they wouldn’t come. She screamed silently to the sky. Out of breath, panting and tired, she flopped down onto the bench and closed her eyes.
It would be just as well if I died right here, right now, she thought. Everything she believed in, everything she held dear was pulled away from her, taken in a cruel way. She felt useless, broken, insufficient. Was I not enough? Did even Nina want a man after all? Did everyone else? Were lesbians a lie and I the only one?
She pulled out her phone and looked at it. About 400 more notifications. Screw it, screw it all. She unlocked her phone and went through all the social media apps she had, plus the phone, and blocked Nina on all of them, then deleted her contact details from her phone and set a few of her accounts to ‘private.’
As she was putting it back into her pocket, it made a buzz. A new message from Melinda.
ns 15.158.61.54da2
