Forty One

I hated, absolutely hated myself. I hated that I had cheated on the man I loved, on the man who loved me. The man with whom I dreamt forever. The man who probably wouldn't take me back.

But the last few days without him had been hell. I would rather take his wrath than be away from him. I could not imagine what it would be like to never see him again. 

"I'm sorry." I said brokenly. "I'm sorry, Mariano."

He just stared at me. He stood up and got out of bed, walking to me. He reached out to touch me, but thought otherwise, and took his hand away. I would have given anything to have him touch me. 

"I'm sorry." I repeated.

I hated the way he was looking at me. His eyes held so