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Twin Flames

by Mel 2 months ago in Love
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she always fell for the wrong guy. he always stuck by her side to keep her safe. but what happens when she gets to a fork in the road that is life? will she choose the road she always took, or decide to finally take a new path towards a new life?

There he stood. As he always had. Just inches away from the front door, bouquet of flowers in his hand; a 'I'm sorry' smile plastered across his face. His knuckles still bruised from our last interaction. His hair still ruffled from when I tried to push him away. The tear in his jacket as visible as ever; God, I'll never get to hear the end of that.

"Don't answer it, Jeannie." Paul said from the sofa.

"How'd you know that's him?" I asked him, "That could've been the pizza guy for all you knew."

"For starters, we never ordered a pizza." Paul stood up and began to walk towards me, "Secondly, you really think you could let this many assholes go by without letting me pick up on the signs you leave behind when they come back?"

My eyes peaked back into the tiny peephole to reveal him once more. He was now holding the bouquet up to the door, hiding his face behind them. My eyes couldn't help but notice the bruises once again. The same bruises that I caused; the ones that could've been avoided if I hadn't been so damn stupid. I noticed his free hand move up to tap the door, followed by a soft knock.

"Don't." Paul came up from behind me, "There's nothing he could say to make up for what he's done."

"Paul-" I went to say when he placed his finger against my lip.

"No." He locked eyes with mine, "Jeannie, No. What he's done- That's something unforgivable."

"He came back." I told him, "Shouldn't that account for something?"

"The others came back to. Remember? They all came back with the exact same lies. All pleading for you to accept their apology with teddy bears, bouquets, or hearts of chocolates."

"Not all of them came back."

"What's he holding?" He gestured towards the door without taking his eyes off mine.

"That's not important."

"Is he holding a bouquet of flowers?"

"Paul."

"I bet you that he's holding a bouquet of flowers up towards the peephole, thinking that it would help hide away the bruises and scares left behind from the damage he gave to you." He grabbed ahold of my face, his palms taking hold of my cheeks before giving me a soft kiss on the forehead, "I made a promise to you, Jeannie. I made a promise to never let you go through this again; no matter how many times you've put yourself into this situation. I made a promise to always come back and pick up the pieces they all left behind; no matter how many pieces were left behind. Jeannie, I stuck by that promise and I-"

"This isn't your life, Paul." I told him, "This is mine. He came to say sorry. Hell, this would have never stirred up if it wasn't for my behaviors. He came to say sorry, Paul. I need to at least hear him out."

"Jeannie-"

I pulled his palms from my cheeks, holding onto his hands for a second before letting go, "I need to do this, Paul. Just let me do this." With that, I opened the door. He was holding the bouquet of flowers in front of his face, not even hiding the bruised knuckles from my view. His hair still looked as ruffled as before, and his jacket was torn at the sleeve just as I had left it before. His eyes lit up the moment he saw me in that doorframe.

"I never thought you'd open the door." He told me, "After the mistake I made, I was convinced you'd never want to see me again." He handed the bouquet to me, which I accepted, before intertwining his arm in mine. I gave a small wave towards Paul as we walked away, before mouthing the words "thank you" towards him.

**

One month later. There I stood, at the same door as I had just a month prior. There he stood, just inches away from the door with a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates in his arms. Unlike last month when he had an 'I'm sorry' smile plastered across his face, his face seemed blank. He looked as if he had zero emotions to express himself with. His knuckles were bruised more than ever; some dried up blood even remained between his fingers that he must've forgotten to clean up. Things felt different this time. Something felt off this time around.

"Don't you open that door, Jeannie." Paul's arms wrapped around my waist, turning me around so that I wouldn't be able to look back out the peephole. He ran his finger down my bruised cheek as he locked eyes with me, "You never deserved this."

"Paul-"

"Jeannie," He ran his thumbs against my soft lips, "I had to sit back and watch as you made these decisions over and over again but-" He took a breath, "-if I have to see you run through my door once more covered in bruises while wearing blood-stained clothes once more, I will kill the man who did it to you."

"It wasn't all his-"

"Don't you dare say that he isn't at fault, Jeannie." He told me, "He knew what he was doing. They all knew what they were doing. Last time, you said he came back to say sorry. He did just that. Look what happened after."

"He was sorry."

"For how long, Jeannie?"

"Paul."

"A month. You were back here after a month. One time, it was three weeks. Another time, it was two days. I can't be your escape plan, Jeannie. I won't be able to handle this."

"What are you trying to say?" I had tears already circulating, ready to fall.

"I-"

"Do you want me to leave?" I asked him, "Do you want me to stop coming here? Do you want me to-"

His lips crashed onto mine. He lowered his hands down my back to my waist before separating from me once more. "I want you to stop leaving." He answered, "I want you to realize that it isn't just a coincidence that I've always been here, waiting for you to come with open doors. I want you to finally accept that you deserve something so much better than what those dipshits have given you."

"Paul-" I was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

"Ignore it, Jeannie."

"I can't." I told him. I turned to grab ahold of the doorknob, letting go of Paul's embrace to do so. My eyes jotted back to see the disappointment flash before his eyes as I had opened the door.

"I never thought you'd open the door," He flashed a smile, "After what happened between us, I never-"

"I can't do this." I got out.

"Excuse me?"

"We can't do this." I told him.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He still had a smile flashed across his face.

"I can't-"

"The fuck did you do to her!" He slammed past me to get to Paul, who slammed him right back into the hall.

"She's made up her mind." Paul told him as calmly as ever, "If I was you, I'd accept her decision and just walk away."

"The hell I will!" He went to ball up a fist when Paul slammed it against the wall.

"You really want to do this, man?"

"Jeannie." He pleaded for my help, "Jeannie, are you seriously going to stand back and let this piece of shit harm the love of your life?"

"Just go." I told him.

Paul pulled him off the wall and began shoving him down the hall before he headed out himself. "You'll regret this," He yelled out as he faded down the hall, "You'll regret this decision and I won't be around for you to crawl on back!"

Paul threw his middle finger up in the air before turning around to face me once again, "Will you, though?"

His hair was all ruffled out of place. He had some marks on his hoodie from where he was grabbed, and he was completely out of breath. I couldn't help but smile.

"What?" He asked me.

"Nothing."

"What is it?" He ran his hand through his disheveled hair, "Is there something on my face? That asshole didn't leave a mark, did he?"

"No." I chuckled, "I just-"

"What?"

"I think I just discovered what it was that I deserve."

"Oh, really?"

I nodded quietly, which lead to him scooping me up in his arms and carrying me back into the room, laughter leaving my body as he did so, "I'm going to show you everything that you have deserved all these years."

Love

About the author

Mel

dog handler by day, aspiring writer by night

she/they

instagram: stufflestream

youtube: Melon Melon | TheMelonVlogs

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