Never Too Late
She stood, glued to the spot, eyes transfixed, at the stomach-churning scene before her.
Her legs buckled underneath the heavy weight of the revelation that had just been placed upon her shoulders and she clung to the doorway for much needed support. Her head was screaming commands at her; to run away as fast as physically possible although her legs refused to move; to shout and scream as loudly as her lungs allowed her to; to kick, punch and throw things, anything that might help to dull the searing pain that had ripped through her chest and shattered her fragile heart into a million tiny pieces. However, she knew that none of these things would do anything to ease her heartache.
A wave of burning hot tears threatened to spill down her pale cheeks as her mouth fell open due to a combination of utter shock and disgust. She attempted to speak – there was so much she wanted, needed, to say – but words failed her. All she could muster was a feeble whisper of;
"Not again."
She'd been thrown into this ghastly situation more times than she could begin to count. Had her world turned upside down in a mere fraction of a second. She assumed that the emotional agony and sickening, self-consuming anger would become easier to cope with over time but she was always proved wrong. Every time, her over-active mind transported her back to the previous, similar occasions and she could almost feel the red-hot rage burning her from the inside out. Like boiling hot lava pouring in to her body, the sensation crushing her already broken frame.
She'd experienced a lifetime's worth of pain and suffering over the years. Death, addiction and debilitating illness were just some of the troubles that had already been a part of her thirty-something years. She was a proud and headstrong woman who refused to be beaten and so she found ways of dealing with the problems and coping with the suffering they brought. But there was always something different about this pain – betrayal and disloyalty – that instantly pushed her over the edge she was so desperately clinging on to.
The broken blonde was pulled from her reverie, eyes wide like a rabbit caught in the headlights, by a mixture of two voices. She was aware that she was being spoken to and could decipher the odd snippet such as "I'm sorry" and "We never meant for it to be like this" but her jumbled mind couldn't comprehend exactly what was being said. Her bewildered eyes flitted between the two subjects in front of her. She almost expected this behaviour from him, she'd experienced it enough times, but she had expected better from her. It was then that she realised her body was shaking uncontrollably and she could practically feel her blood boiling in her veins. She went to speak, her bottom lip quivering as she continued to suppress the tears.
"Get out." She spoke slowly in a low tone, gritting her teeth and clenching her fists, desperately trying to hide just how much this was hurting her.
He came towards her, begging and pleading her not to do this. Said the same meaningless things he always said, made the same poor excuses he always did. His hand drifted towards her face, attempting to stroke her cheek and look into her eyes with his puppy-dog ones the way he always did. She batted his hand away with such force, she surprised herself. Not all that long ago, Tanya would have fallen for this act and welcomed Max back in with open arms. Not this time.
"I said, get out, Max!" Tanya raised her voice and gestured towards the exit.
"And you can take Sharon with you!"