𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

41 | Sharing Our Routine Seperately

I drove home in the BMW I drove to the hotel in. Tom drove home in whatever car he came in. We both arrived at similar times. We both showered in seperate bathrooms. We both got changed into our pajamas. We both brushed our teeth in the ensuite, staring at anything but each other; our feet, the sink, the toothpaste label, perhaps even ourselves in the mirror.

Tom leant forward in the mirror to inspect his split lip. It wasn't too deep. It had stopped bleeding. It was bruised. It was swollen.

My brain seemed to only be working on minimal thoughts at a time. I couldn't really comprehend what was going on currently and what had just happened. I honestly felt like I had so many thoughts and emotions that my brain decided to shut down completely.

Before I left the ensuite to go to the guest room, Tom said my name quietly as he got into bed, putting his phone on charge next to him on the bedside table. I stood at the doorway looking at him.

"I think it would be best if you stayed at your parents house for a little while Y/N. I think we need to take a break to figure out what is best for each of us," he said calmly.

I just nodded. I didn't have the energy to fight anymore. I just wanted this all to end.

I had fallen in love with someone who had completely opposite values than me. How has this never come up before? Sexism wasn't a negotiable for me. Sure, you and your man could disagree on certain political views or whether the volume needs to be set at an odd or even number. Maybe you could disagree on religion or whatever, but equal rights for my own fucking gender isn't something I can compromise on.

If you think I'm weaker because of my gender, you are sorely mistaken. And I can't live with someone who views me as lesser than them because I am l a female.

I left the bedroom and walked back to the guest room. I did not cry. I did not weep. I was completely numb. I crawled into bed. I slept. I woke up. I started overthinking the whole situation. I threw up from anxiety. I finally fell back to sleep. I woke up in the morning and started to pack a suitcase to take to my parents house.

I should probably text Robyn and let her know I mightn't see her for a while. Considering this mafia bullshit is so inherently sexist, I assume Haz won't let her see me if I'm in Tom's bad books.

Y/N
Had a fight with Tom

Y/N
Staying at my parents for a while

Y/N
Will explain when I see you in
person some time soon

ROBYN
Fuckkkk. Sorry to hear that
girlfriend!!! Have a few drinks
and we can catch up soon to rant
about how stupid he is xo

I smiled, knowing that Robyn was still open to meeting up with me. She really has become my best friend now and I wouldn't change that for the world.

As much as I may have felt numb last night, I am severely emotional this morning. Tom had left to go to the boxing ring early in the morning so as I raided my closet for clothes to pack, I balled my fucking eyes out. Each tear felt like it burnt, I could feel each and every one roll down my cheeks.

I took an Uber to my parents house, not wanting to take the car that Tom had bought for me. I have my own savings account and my own credit card, so if we ended up breaking up, I want to be self-sufficient with my finances. My mum hugged me once I got to the front door, me crying on her shoulder as she rubbed my back.

She knew that I never really committed to men very much, so when shit like this went down, it hit hard. Not to mention the fact I couldn't even tell my Mum the truth about why we were taking a break, she didn't know anything about the whole mafia thing.

Sitting in my childhood room was depressing; a king single bed with old baby pink sheets and a desk with my old college textbooks stacked on top. I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling, wondering what outcomes any of this would have.

Would Tom suddenly come to his sense and realise that women were equal to men in the mafia world?

Will I cave and go back to him despite completely disagreeing with his values and beliefs?

Will I be killed for leaving the Godfather single?

Either way, my brain was flooded with thoughts rushing through it. Imagine a river where the water was spaghetti, and it was just getting tangled with every dip and turn. That was my brain. Shitty analogy, but you get the point.

Robyn was right in her text message.
I need a fucking drink.