Chapter 3

• Ayla POV
• “Marcus, who's is this shoe?” I shout, standing up with the shoe in my hand, looking at it like an idiot. I know that there’s only one explanation, but my mind is refusing to accept that. I refuse to accept that.
• “What! I will be out in a second.” He shouts again.
• I can hear him rushing around the bedroom. I slowly walk to the door feeling numb, today has been the worst day of my life and it just keeps piling up. My hand trembles and the tears sting my eyes as I push the bedroom door open, only for it to slam shut in my face, startling me. I push again and can feel Marcus pushing back against it, stopping me from entering the room.
• “Marcus, open the door!”
• My voice is croaky as I try to hold in my tears. I know that when this door opens, my world is finally going to come crashing down around me, but I don’t care. I have to see it for myself, so I know that this is really happening and that I’ve not fallen asleep and I’m just having a terrible nightmare.
• “Just give me a minute, Ayla!” He shouts.
• “Marcus!”
• I push the door and feel his weight move from behind it. I stumble into the room and see a dark-haired woman trying to fasten her blouse up as Marcus grabs me, turning me away from her. I turn my head to look back at her, to make sure my eyes aren’t playing tricks on me, but he grabs my face, turning it away from the woman.
• “I can explain!” He says, pinching my face tight so I have to look at him and not around the room.
• His shirt is undone and I can see his firm chest with scratch marks running across it. Her pink lipstick mark is still on his skin near his collarbone. I push against his firm chest pushing him away from me. His touch feels dirty. He grabs me again, his grip on my arms is tight. As he pulls me back, he shakes me slightly, making me look up into his light blue eyes. His brown hair is ruffled and messy and he looks genuinely upset.
• “Get off me!” I shout, pushing him away from me and breaking free of his grip. The room feels like all the air has been sucked from it. I spin and dart for the door needing to get away from him and this flat, everywhere I look I see him and her.
• “Ayla please, it was a mistake.” He cries from behind me.
• “A mistake!”
• I throw the shoe that I’m still clutching in my hand at Marcus. He ducks, and it hits the bedroom door with a loud thud.
• “A mistake is picking up the wrong bag at the shop or forgetting your mum's birthday. Sleeping with some girl is not a mistake, Marcus!”
• I grab my bag off the floor and pull the front door open.
• “Please Ayla, I love you.”
• I pause, the muscles in my back tense. That was the first time Marcus had said he loved me and it was tainted. I know he only said it to stop me from leaving, he thought I was stupid enough to stay after finding him with another woman. I didn’t turn around, happy with what he had just shouted at me, but I pushed forward running down the stairs as if the hounds of hell were on my heels, nipping at me, desperate to taste my flesh. I pushed the building’s front door open, welcoming the cold, wet air. I lift my face to the sky and let the rain mingle with my tears, washing them away. My heart was beating painfully in my chest, I thought Marcus was special, I thought he actually cared about me but I was a fool, my friends all tried to tell me that he was a player and that I would end up broken-hearted but I refused to believe them, they warned me that this would happen but I was too naive to see what kind of man Marcus really was, all the signs were there but I was blind to them. My phone begins to vibrate in my bag. On instinct, I route through the bag and see my mum's name on the screen.
• I take a deep breath and answer.
• “Hey, mum.” I try to sound happy and upbeat, but the pain in my chest is overbearing, I’m not sure if I can take another blow.
• “Sweetheart, are you ok?” She asks, her voice is soft but I can hear the concern swimming in her words.
• Ever since I was a child, my mum has had some strange sixth sense about when I was feeling low and right now I didn’t think I could fall any lower.
• “Everything is falling apart mum, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I confessed.
• “Why don’t you come home now, sweetheart? You can stay with me and your dad.”
• I let out a deep sigh as I thought about what my mum had just offered. I had nowhere to stay, and I had no job. Marcus had made sure the few friends I had here didn’t want anything to do with me and I couldn’t think of anything better than being at home with my mum and dad right now. I needed one of my mum’s cuddles.
• “Thanks, Mum. I will be home soon.”