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FROM: DAVID 7:23 PM

Hi babe. I can't make the dinner. The boys and I are going out.

Great, fucking great.

I toss my phone back into my purse and look around the room, frustrated at David's cancellation. Sadly, this isn't the first time I've been put on my feet. This is the third time this month that David has left me at Salsa's Mexican restaurant waiting for him because he'd rather 'hang out with his boys' than his girlfriend of six years. To make matters worse, the waiter who has been coming to my table for the last hour asking me if I want to order is the same damn waiter who has tried to serve me the last two times I've been stood up. I look up at the bar and meet the waiter's boyish face and blue eyes. He looks at me sympathetically. Startled, I quickly glance at my menu, letting the long chocolate locks of my hair function as a curtain between us. Only the distinct sound of someone clearing their throat made me look around my hair.

"Would you like to order?"

Asks the young waiter, running his fingers through the front of his long, blond bangs.

"Uh..."

A blush instantly overtakes my cheeks and I shudder at the thought of how red they must look.

"No, I'm sorry... my boyfriend isn't coming"

I stand up and straighten my short black dress. I pull my matching black coat off the back of my chair and drape it over my shoulders. I reach across the table for my purse and walk quickly toward the exit. My cheeks grow warmer and I swear I can feel everyone's appraising eyes on me.

Outside the air is surprisingly cold. Strange, considering we are meant to be well into spring. The cold air makes my nose run immediately and I feel the warmth of my blush fade from my cheeks. My high heels tap with an even rhythm along the cement as I make my way across the parking lot. I've always found calm weather to be soothing, but tonight's cool, calm weather isn't enough to calm the storm raging inside me.

My dark shadow reflects off the blue paint of my sedan as I unlock the car and climb in. With a grunt, I toss my purse on the passenger seat. Tears burn in my tear ducts, but I dare not let them fall. I'm not going to cry for him anymore. I lean over and hurriedly search through the contents of my purse until I locate my phone. I look up his name in my contact list and press dial. It rings and I'm greeted by his stupid voicemail.

"It's David. I'm not here right now, obviously. Call me back later"

I don't leave a voicemail, but call back. And again. And again. Each time it goes to her voicemail, I get angrier and angrier, until she finally answers.

"Shh. Shh"

I hear him whisper to someone with a high-pitched chuckle. The noise makes my stomach drop to my gut.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?"

I choose to ignore the feminine noise until later, I tell him what's up.

"What's up, I'm sitting in the parking lot of Salsa's because you stood me up again!"

My voice is loud, but I don't care.

"Can you stop yelling? It's really not a big deal. You and I hang out all the time"

"What kind of answer is that? Wait. Because we see each other often gives you the right to stand me up?"

I can imagine him doing that stupid shrug thing he always does.

"Something like that. I knew you'd understand"

He hangs up, leaving me staring out the front windshield. Anger boils to extremes in my chest and I can feel my nostrils flaring as my chest rises and falls rapidly. With trembling hands, I press redial.

"Hello?"

A husky, feminine voice answers, catching me off guard.

"Are you kidding me?"

I demand, feeling instantly sick.

"Who is this?"

"Melissa"

"Put David on the phone"

I snap.

In the background I clearly hear club music and laughter. I'm glad he's having a good time while I'm sitting alone in a fucking parking lot.

"Shit. Sandra, it's not what you think. She pulls my phone off the bar"

I've reached the boiling point. I'm done.

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

I yell into the phone.

"What kind of question is that?"

"No, not at all"

I can hear the slight insult in his voice. Typical.

"I mean, sometimes you do things that make me question..."

"Just shut up! I don't want to talk to you anymore and I don't want to see you anymore. You can find your stuff packed at my front door!"

God knows how many times I've said that.

"Sandy, come on. Don't be like this"

Beg on the phone, calling me by my nickname.

"You're overreacting"

I'm hanging up.

"How's that for overreacting?"

I rest my head on the steering wheel as a few tears fall on my bare thigh. David and I have been dating since we were seventeen. We're twenty-three now. Realistically, we should have only been dating for two years. That was the first time he cheated on me. Since then I've lost count of the times he's betrayed me. I know. I'm an idiot for accepting it and I should respect myself more blah, blah, blah. Listen to me; being with David is all I know. I've never been with anyone else. The thought of not having him in my life terrifies me, but I know that if he is in my life, he will keep destroying me over and over again and I won't be able to do it anymore.

I run around my compact apartment with a large box under my arms, collecting David's things. He doesn't live with me, but he sure has a lot of items in my apartment. Each one I pick up makes me feel sicker as reality begins to sink in. When I'm sure I've grabbed everything, I run downstairs and place the box in the driveway. I've never gone so far as to take her things from her before, but this time I've had enough. I've had enough. I turn around, but headlights approaching the driveway bring me back to the road. It's a cab.

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