~~PEYTON~~
Without another word, I grab my car keys from the hook by the door and walk out, not looking back.
Not caring to see the aftermath of the chaos.
Not bothered by how I look right now—furious, a depiction of a raging storm, and worse…
jealousy.
I hate to admit it, but this tightness I feel in my chest gets worse by the day.
And I can’t help it.
I storm towards the garage, tears blurring my vision.
I want them to fall; I want to cry, but what difference will it make?
It won’t change the past, nor the present, and not even the near future.
Odin has officially erased himself from my life.
I loved Odin.
I really loved him.
He was my everything, the man of my dreams.
He used to be funny, dramatic, caring, and could be passionate when he wanted to, and I adored him for that.
But now he’s just a stranger who only sees me as a roommate.
I yank the car door open and practically slip inside, slamming it shut behind me.
The sudden enclosure feels both suffocating and like a desperate escape.
And then I hear it—the unmistakable sound of Odin’s voice.
The angry voice.
His feet pounds on the ground as he rushed towards me.
“PEYTON!”
He’s coming at me fast and furious, eyes blazing.
I wait.
I don’t know exactly why, but I’m waiting.
He rounds to the driver’s side and pulls the door open, my heart pounding in my chest.
He grips my arms firmly, too tightly, and drags me out.
I stumble back, and just as I’m about to fall, he grabs me again and slams me against the car.
“What was that for, Peyton? What the fuck was that?”
I wince; my head throbs.
His grip on my arm is bruising.
“Let go of me!” I shout, trying to break free.
My leg comes up, aiming for his shin, but he anticipates it, shifting just enough that my kick glances off his thigh instead of landing properly.
I push against his chest with my free hand, a desperate, futile effort against his strength.
“You let go!” I repeat.
His jaw clenches.
He doesn’t budge, pinning me down.
“She’s bleeding because of you!”
My own fury flares hotter.
I glare up at him, tears stinging my eyes—not from sadness, not the pain, but from pure, seething rage.
“Oh, she’s bleeding? Good.” I shove again, twisting my arm.
“That’s for making a joke out of me!”
Odin’s grip doesn’t loosen, but his furious expression shifts, a flicker of something unreadable replacing the pure rage.
His eyes are narrow, cold, and hard.
“Why are you so hell-bent on your jealousy, Peyton? You and I are done. Learn to accept the fact that we are fucking done!”
A tear slips.
I look at him, really look at him now.
It dawns on me.
I remember asking him long ago, playfully, how many girls he’d dated, and he’d playfully answered that he couldn’t remember how many.
Odin doesn’t do love; he uses and dumps, and when he finally does love, it only lasts a few years, then he’s done.
I tilt my head to my shoulder, wiping my tears with my sleeve.
Then I look at him dead on.
“I’ve just learned to accept the fact that we are done and that this ‘open marriage’ thing is just an excuse to cheat.”
Odin’s grip fades, loosens.
He wants to speak, but I don’t let him.
I use that opportunity to pull away completely.
“I’m out of your hair, Odin. Officially. Have your fun.”
With that, I get back into the car, slam the door, and start the engine.
“Don’t you dare come back here after midnight or you’ll regret it!” He yells, the words swallowed by the roar of the engine as I speed away, leaving him standing there alone, in the harsh glare of the rear lights.
~~~~~~~~~
”Pick up, you bastards.” I tap my phone screen a million times.
Nothing.
Just dead air, matching the empty feeling in my stomach.
My hands are shaking, every tap a desperate shout into the void.
I’ve pulled over onto some dark, quiet street corner, the engine still humming, but my brain is totally fried, just replaying everything with Odin.
Thinking about him standing there, alone?
Defeated?
It used to mess me up, but now there’s just this dull ache.
He really is a stranger.
I check my phone again.
Still nada.
My thumb hovers over Axel’s name.
He’s the only one I can call, the only one who gets how messed up my world is.
I need him.
I need his chill, need his mischief, and most importantly, I want him to wire my brain, make me forget about tonight, forget about Odin, forget about every damn thing.
I can’t go back there, not tonight, maybe ever.
And I definitely can’t go home—to my so-called family.
I’m too kind to even call them family; they are bloodsuckers with wide grins and saccharine voices, especially when they want you to spit out money like I’m a goddamn tree that grows paper.
My heart is going nuts, thumping like crazy.
I just need a voice, a plan, anything to pull me out of this suffocating anger, to feel something else entirely.
My hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles white, as I stare out at the empty street.
Every second that ticks by without him answering feels like forever.
Until a text flashes on the screen, short and punchy.
*Miss my dick?*
God, I hate him.
I type back.
*Yes.
Satisfied?
Where are you?*
*Home chilling.*
*Can I come?* I grimace while typing that because I sound like a desperate whore right now.
*Coming to murder me?*
I roll my eyes.
*I’m homeless.
Just for the night, though.*
He sends a laughing emoji.
*I’m serious.* I text almost immediately.
There’s a brief pause before he finally texts back.
*I was feeling lonely anyway.
Will send the address soon.*
I frown.
*Why not now?*
*The address is pretty long, and I want to give you the details so you won’t get lost.*
*Just send it; I’ll figure it out.*
Another pause, longer this time.
I could almost picture Axel’s infuriatingly casual shrug.
Finally, my phone buzzes again.
*Okay, fine.
But don’t blame me if you end up in Timbuktu.
And stop at the pharmacy—pick up some “raincoats.” You know, for a long night of bad decisions.*
A weak chuckle escapes me.
Even in the middle of my meltdown, Axel’s ability to be utterly himself is a strange comfort.
I glance at the gas gauge.
Almost empty.
Great.
Just another thing to add to the monumental pile of things going wrong.
I type back, a little of the tension easing from my shoulders.
*Raincoat it is.
See you soon, you colossal pain in the ass.*
I don’t wait for a reply because I know what it will be.
I put the car in drive, the engine rumbling a little less aggressively now.
The streetlights illuminate the road ahead, a path into the unknown, but at least it wasn’t the path back to Odin.
And for the first time in hours, I feel like a bird out of its cage—the start of a new beginning.
A very rebellious beginning.