💖 Don't forget to vote/comment! 💖

*** Karis' POV***

I should be used to this. Leaving should be something that does not cause me physical pain. I frantically scrub my fingers across my cheeks as I make my way to my vehicle. Doing the right thing does not always feel good. I left because I had to.

Staring at the faces of Vance's family told me everything I never wanted to believe. Divorce is a scarlet letter that many shy away from. As if I didn't condemn myself enough, seeing those people's reaction to me gave me all the insight I needed. I am damaged goods. My baggage is too heavy of a burden to drag into someone else's perfect life. It was unfair of me to try to mix our worlds. I am rectifying my selfish mistake.

While my mind congratulates me for being brave, my heart does not feel the same adoration. My chest hurts. I ache for what I want but will never have. Maybe if I had healed properly after my divorce I may have had a chance with a man like Vance.

I tried. After Christopher, I did my due diligence to bring myself to a healthy place. Therapists told me that I needed to keep myself busy. Advice from friends revolved around rediscovering myself. My own intention was to simply exist outside of the parameters of a relationship.

Distractions, moving and expanding my business were all of my best efforts to take every piece of advice. I focused so much on all of these things. Yet, I somehow never found time to just breathe through the healing process. I guess that is something we sometimes forget. We forget that although a broken heart may seem whole once again, the damage goes beyond the surface.

One day you feel as though you are doing great. The most beautiful, kind and adoring person may walk into your life. They will show you parts of yourself that you have forgotten. You will find that you are falling quickly into love with the relationship that the two of you have formed. What you don't see is the repercussions of your past. You don't assume that one word from someone in their circle will spiral you back to reality. I never thought that I would allow someone to hurt me again with their judgmental words.

I believed that I was passed all of this. I felt whole. Vance made me feel whole. Now, I see how I misconstrued his love for my healing. I'm not whole. Vance was filling my broken spaces as I enjoyed the illusion of healing.

Somehow, I saw progress in myself. Those miniscule changes lead me to believe that I had built a better me. I have always forced myself to be stronger than I am. That perseverance gives me a false sense of security. Being strong when you have no other choice is not the same as being faced with obstinately cruel people and walking away unscathed. I may be brave enough to walk into battle. At times, I may even stay to fight. However, it can be overwhelming to feel like you are surrendering who you are for the sake of fitting in. I guess my no fucks to give attitude only reaches as far as my heart. Once you start poking at my fragile organ, I fall apart quickly.

It is time for me to find the broken pieces and bring them back to make myself whole. I can't simply shift the responsibility of my wellness off on Vance. He doesn't deserve that. If I were to ever hope to be good enough for anyone, I have to be good enough for myself first.

I can't drive back to my house for fear that I will find Vance waiting there for me. I just know that if he shows up, I won't find the strength to dismiss him. I will fall easily into his safe arms. Vance is everything I knew I needed. He is more than I thought I could get.

The streets pass by as I find myself driving towards the edge of town. I don't stop when I see the welcome sign for the next county. I just drive.

My playlist fills the car with music as my mind replays memories that I have stored away. I would think that Vance would be the first memory to make its presence known. No, it is Christopher.

Christopher's bright eyes stare at me as I pull off the side street. I sit between the two rows of green pasture that are separated by the dirt path that I have turned into my parking space. Surrounded by still air and the scent of distant rain, I close my eyes to remember everything that brought me to this place of brokenness.

Meeting Christopher for the first time felt enchanting. His attention felt like fresh air when all you knew was suffocation. That smile dragged you into his world of nothingness. It wasn't like a day filled with useless activity. His particular brand of entertainment just felt like empty fun with no regrets and no need for deep thinking.

At the time, he filled spaces that I needed to be filled. Christopher was fun. In the beginning, he was my brand of fulfillment. I looked forward to being a part of his world where everyone just seemed happy to be existing. I think I got lost in the world of knowing that I wasn't expected to perform. I had no one to impress.

Looking back, that was so unhealthy. Without an expectation of greatness, we have no need to succeed. Christopher made it easy for me to fail. I can't fault him for that. Our goals were not aligned. Our paths were never meant to be permanent. In a way, Christopher was a distraction. I made him more important than he was ever supposed to be.

With that said, Christopher made no move to lift himself into a position of necessity. His goal was never to earn me, keep me. Christopher was perfectly satisfied with my presence even if it meant that I merely existed beside him. The problem with distractions are that they will always fall behind as your goals evolve. I would eventually evolve. When I did, Christopher wasn't prepared to take the new journey.

I was more hell bent on finding a way to keep both my distraction and my ambition than I was to find someone who fit into my future. I wanted my cake. I wanted to eat it too. The world does not make that easy. That's a good thing. It just happens to be a painful thing as well.

I remember reading the Bible once and coming across a scripture that referred to being unequally yoked. Christopher and I were just that. He had met his peak in life. I was no where near the finish line that I had drawn for myself. We were two people on different paths. That is a recipe for disaster. I got exactly that.

As my definition of a fulfilled life formed, changing from parties and merely keeping Christopher company, so did my marriage. Christopher had fairly shown his character. If I am being honest, he never promised me that he could be anything other than a good time. It was my desire to love him that actually created my own disappointment. I truly felt that if I loved him enough, he would want to be enough.

It still amazes me how the red flags dull when you are so intent on change. I did not want Christopher to change who he was. It was such a huge part of my own ambition to simply be able to love somebody for who they were and not who they would become. The fact is, I did not actually like who Christopher was.

As a person, he hit some of the check marks. His personality was pleasing enough at first sight. He looked the part of a California surfer with blue eyes that shined brightly, tan skin and blonde hair that often resembled someone who had just gotten out of the water after catching intense waves. His accent was mildly charming although the country twang did not fit his appearance in any way what so ever. He was neither overly patient or impatient, at first. His small grievances were easily swayed with just a simple promise of my changed behavior. I found it easy to mend our lives together with little force.

As our years together progressed, so did the small things. They grew into bigger things. A few nights of drinking a week became a nightly adventure to see if my husband would come home drunk or if he would come home at all. Those subtle disenchantments with his personality became annoyingly obvious. When Christopher disagreed with something, you knew it. Everybody knew his opinion. Not only was he keen on sharing his opinion, he felt challenged if you did not share in his stance.

Going out with my husband became a chore. I knew the moment he offered to leave the house together that I was in for a night as a designated driver. Often, Christopher would ease his own burden by publicly offering me a drink. To other's it seemed as though he was being thoughtful. Eventually, I realized that he was merely dangling a golden carrot in front of me in an effort to paint himself as someone he was not. Christopher was more than aware that I would not drink and drive. He was not going to stay sober. Therefore, offering me to drink was as useful as offering to drive us home. Neither choice was actually manageable.

Then he got drunk. Some nights it was fine. He was perfectly stable when he wanted to be. Then there were the nights when he was not okay. Those nights were a constant struggle between keeping my husband away from people who challenged his knowledge on just about anything and keeping my husband upright in his barstool. I will admit, though it was aggravating to watch him drink himself into a literal slumber, the okay nights did outweigh the nights when I wished that I was anywhere else.

Slowly, I disintegrated along with my marriage. The parts of me that I loved the most became much smaller. The majority of what I became was a survivalist in a game of cat and mouse. Christopher, the cat, would chase away the aspects of me just as fast as I ran after the pieces that I had already lost. By sheer science, I was in a losing game. I did lose. I lost big.

I slipped into a form of loneliness that others would call depression. Although, I never truly felt the need to exit this world, I could see where people may draw the conclusion. I withdrew myself from his friends and family while Christopher pulled us away from my old circle. I became so included in his lifestyle that there was no room for the real me to exist.

In the end, I allowed what had happened. I chose my poison. I drank from the cup. It was my fault that I found myself in a place where I had lost myself. I did not have to stay as long as I did. I just really did not want to give up. Losing my marriage felt as though I had made so many sacrifices for nothing. What I should have understood is, a real marriage would not have required as many sacrifices to be made to begin with.

After my divorce, I felt free. Although guilt had pinned me to an invisible pier, I still felt relief. Releasing myself from the confides of a loveless marriage, a stale love and a narcissist felt like gulping fresh air after drowning. I saw a new beginning. I had renewed hope. I felt refreshed and reborn.

Time masked the pain. Distractions created a façade of healed wounds. My ambitions lead me head on into an expansive land of deadlines, goals and new people though clients. It's easy to feel better when you do not have time to focus on the pain. I felt like life had finally been kind to me.

I found a groove that worked for me until it no longer did. Eventually, I was lonely. I felt unworthy of love because I was not being loved. However, I had not done anything to put myself out there in order to find love. So, I made a conscious decision to go off on my own to a night club.

I lead myself into the arms of Vance Teagan.