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Things used to be rich.
Things used to feel complete.
Hero didn’t feel so complete anymore.
Right now it felt like her heart was torn into a million little pieces of paper, like a piece of her body was severed. An unbearable phantom pain that she couldn’t satiate.
She used to have a fiance, and now she didn’t.
That’s how life worked in the first place, though. Beatrice had constantly reminded her of that. Things will come, and they will go, just as quickly as they happened. The world would always continue turning, with no care for the pathetic little humans who felt like it would halt at every minor inconvenience. Life went on. People kept walking down the street. Living their lives. Hero would have to do the same. Even if all she felt like doing was sinking into the sheets on her bed, waiting for them to eventually swallow her whole into a never-ending pit of numbness. She needed that numbness. She needed the tears to stop stinging her eyes, to stop feeling the tightness in her throat every time she let a strained sob escape. To stop noticing the pins and needles in her legs from falling asleep because she was not moving for so long, to stop the headaches that went away and came back from all the crying.
She was a damn good actress though, she had to admit, even while that was her cousin’s calling. Every time the phone rang she made them believe that she was okay, somehow clearing her throat enough to speak with a sweet tone, repressing her sniffing so it wouldn’t betray her in the slightest, making sure to add a little laugh at the end of her sentences, and convincing them that yes, she was heartbroken over her and Claudio’s broken engagement, but right now she was just taking some time for herself. That she would be okay. That she was cooking her own meals and trying new recipes to share for the next time she saw everyone again. That she was terribly sorry she had to make any sort of a scene at a family wedding. That she was okay. She was okay. If she repeated the word enough, soon it would be true.
Surprisingly they all believed her. Beatrice, although hesitant and doubtful at first, ended up succeeding, and checking in during the slower moments of her honeymoon. Remember you can tell me anything, Bea would say.
But Hero still didn’t tell her the truth. She loved her cousin, she did. But she couldn’t shake a feeling that she wouldn’t understand. That Hero, in this moment, was just like every other woman, between the endless days of barely getting out of bed to use the bathroom for long showers or making ramen, or getting a glass of water. Every other woman who crumbled the minute they were without a man. And even when she knew, she knew Beatrice wouldn’t treat her that way or see her any differently, but…
Maybe she was like every other woman. And she wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing.
She kept wondering if he was feeling like this too. She hadn’t even spoken to him since. She hadn’t been there when he came to retrieve his things from her place. And he had mailed back her things that were at his. She left the opened box on her coffee table.
Maybe it was rotten of her to wish he was aching. To hope that he was so miserable that he couldn’t get out of bed either. But upon making the mistake of looking at his social media she found he seemed perfectly unaffected. The world truly just kept turning.
For everyone but her, it seemed.
So she dug herself further into the sheets.