Addicting drug

She was astonished, on seeing him sitting at the dining table, and looking at her with the same smile he had before.

She laughs out seeing him, "Yes, missing you a lot." She replied back and as tears fell. She saw the figure of his faded into thin air, she knew it was just her illusion, still, it hurts. Her heart feels anguish.

How many years have passed since she left? How many days does she see his mirage? How many lonely nights where she cries herself to sleep? How many times does she tell herself to stop thinking of him? How many times she overworked to forget about him. And how many times she wanted to taste the alcohol again to forget every memory of them.

There are still numbers she could count, but how can she count the pain she feels every time she thinks of him. Maybe the most painful thing in this world is to love someone so much that you can't even let go of that person nor you can be with him.

Love is the most addicting drug, and once you get addicted to it, you may never come out no matter how much you struggle.

~~~

Michael got up and his eyes wandered around the room as if he was looking for someone. But then he realizes there was no one. He got up from the bed and opened the windows.

The weather was cold and cloudy. The air was freezing but instead of closing the windows, he walked out to the terrace. He wanted the cold air to wake him up.

What was even looking for? Her? Why does he forget that they are not together anymore?

Michael clasped his fist, thinking about her, her face came in front of his eyes. Did he forget what kind of person she was? She didn't even let go of their child. How can he still think of someone like her?

He walked inside and went to the bathroom to take a shower to clear his mind.

Even though he tried to stop thinking of her but he couldn't, he was unconsciously still thinking of her.

He hated it. Why was he still thinking about her? She was dead for him.

In fury, he punched on the mirror, shattering it into pieces while his knuckles dripped in his blood.

The wound in his heart was far worse than the wound on his hand. He couldn't feel anything, his brain can't let go of the remembrances.

He came out of the shower, unable to calm himself down. After getting dressed up he walked downstairs. The maid bowed on seeing him and brought breakfast to the dining table. Michael didn't say anything, he just sat down in his place and was about to eat when the aid noticed the wound on his hand. She was shocked, that with such a deep wound he was still acting like nothing happened if he didn't even know about the injury in his hand.

"Master, what happens to your hand?" The maid inquired, still surprised.

It was only then, that Michael noticed the injury on his hand, he was so busy thinking about her that he didn't even feel the bruise.

"Nothing. Just a minor accident." He replied, continuing to eat his breakfast.

"Let me get the first aid box." The maid said in concern and left to bring the first aid box.

Michael didn't say anything. He sat still in his place. The maid bought the box and put the dressing on the injury. She knew it must be painful but Michael didn't even have an expression on his face, he just had a cold face as if he was there physically but mentally he was not there.

She sighed, it was not the first time she saw him like that. He acted like he was fine but his eyes said something else. His eyes said that he was not even there, he was just like a soulless body who acted like a normal human being.

After finishing the dressing on his wound, she sighed, "Master." She called him seeing he was deep in thoughts.

"Huh?" Michael came out of his thoughts and looked at her.

"It's done." She said pointing towards his wound with her eyes.

"Ah, thanks." He walked out of the house after finishing his word.