27.2

"Clara, are you all right?"- I turn back to reality when my friend's voice get into my head.

«Yes ...» - I answer in a faint voice, at the exact moment I open the door of the bathroom, while I continue watching myself in the mirror.

"Annarita is calling you ..." - he points to my phone, but I don't have time to take it from his hand and answer to my best girlfriend that I go back with a soft step to kneel in front of the toilet: I feel everything I have just eaten rise in my throat, and then free myself of all that weight.

I get rid of everything I've been through today... Catherine, Alex and his bullshit. His fake damn promises.

«Babe...» - John approaches, holding my hair at the back of my neck, and then stroking my back.

I feel my throat burn, but it hurts less than what I feel inside of me right now.

I groan, trying to get a deep breath of fresh air, then raise my relaxed head in search of something to cleanse myself with:

"I'll bring you some paper towels!" - he quickly leaves the bathroom, while I slowly get up and return in front of the mirror, washing my face again and trying not to fall deep in my thoughts again.

"Are you okay?" -he puts the paper towel on the dresser next to the door, noticing that it is no longer useful to me.

«Yes ... It's not the first time I vomit for anxiety.» - I try to explain to him, slightly embarrassed to have vomited in front of my best friend, although at work we see even worse things.

"Are you sure?" - he narrow his eyes at my answer, while I nod slowly.

"Who-who was calling me?" - I try to change the subject, as I go back to drain the water.

«Annarita. I didn't want to open, I don't know if you want ... her to know. »- he adds, and I thank him mentally.

I'm not ready to have a conversation, especially with her.

She is one of all my friends that didn't approve the idea of me moving to Australia and she was the first to advise me not to trust Alex.

She's calling as if she really knew what happened but neither Annarita nor Tiara should know about it... Not now.

"Should I call her back?" - I immediately shake my head.

"No, I'll send her a message later, but now I'm really tired, if you don't mind ..."- I try to convince him.

"Okay, but don't get depressed. If you need anything, I'm here. »- he gives me the rare smile of a great friend, then I try in vain to reciprocate, then I turn my back on him and go back to the sofa on which I slept until a few hours ago.

I'm not tired, actually, but I really want to be alone, to think of myself and try to put this mess in my head in order.

I look at the ceiling, then close my eyes and listen to the sound of the rain.

How am I going to continue my life without that asshole?

How can I forget it?

But the hardest thing is: how can I even accept the idea that one day I will see him in the arms of another woman?

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