Shattered

I never believed in true love. Sure, I had an idea of what it was like, but it was the same from girl to girl. I thought true love was something made up to entertain us in daytime soap operas or cheesy romance novels. A wicked deception on our lives. Then I met her and knew immediately I was all wrong. I knew true love was real and I felt it. Unfortunately, this kind of love opens up many new ways to feel pain, the worst pain of all.

After three blissful years, she cheated on me with a guy she met at a church retreat. I swore I’d never forgive her. I promised myself I’d forget her beautiful brown eyes and the warm feeling I got when she touched me.

She broke the news to me the night she got back. First, she said she didn’t even plan on telling me at all, but I guess the guilt was far greater than she imagined.

A life long love sacrificed for a single night of passion. The entire situation baffled me. I was perfect to her for those three years. I had even begun shopping for an engagement ring. I talked about it with her father and everything.

I blamed myself at first, but that pity quickly turned to anger. I told her I didn’t care she was sorry. I told her to rot in hell.

That was a month ago. Since then, I’d been on a few dates, but none of them could compare to her. She was an angel. I could never argue that.

Crying was the only way I fell asleep. My pain was more real than anything I had ever known and it wasn’t going away. I finally figured out that no matter what she did, we were meant to be together. I was still in love with her and I forgave her.

It felt good to hear her voice when I called her. I told her to meet me in the parking lot outside the restaurant where we had our first date.

When she arrived, it began to rain. I should have known that was a bad sign. I ran up to her and hugged her. We were both soaking, but we didn’t care.

I told her I was sorry for those things I said. I told her I loved her and as long as she loved me, I didn’t care what she did.

She said of course she loved me. She said she always will but she had to tell me something important. She told me she was pregnant with his child.

The rain poured harder. Lightning streaked through the air and thunder boomed in my ears. It was God’s way of making it the worst moment of my life. At least she couldn’t tell I was crying.

I didn’t speak. She said my name over and over. She tried to hug me, but I pushed her away. Then I turned and ran. I ran and didn’t look back.

"The baby,” the prison psychologist said when I finished telling him the story. “Was that why you shot her in the stomach first?”

“Yes,” I replied. “That kid ruined out life together, so I wanted to be sure it didn’t get one for itself.”

“Did you mean to kill her as well?” he said as he scribbled something down on a clipboard.

“Yes.”

“You sick bastard,” the man holding the gun by the door said with complete disgust. I turned to him and smiled.

“You think that’s sick? Wait till you see what I did to him.”