Fox is woven into my heart and soul, bound by our years-old connection and strengthened by everything we’ve been through together in the last couple of weeks.
That’s what I needed to figure out. I couldn’t see it until I stepped back. I was afraid I wasn’t ready to discover myself, too scared to do something on my own.
While I search my head and heart for what I need, Thea waits patiently.
“I think living for myself doesn’t have to mean that if I’m with Fox, I’m forgetting myself,” I finally say.
Thea’s eyes crinkle with her smile. “No one can outshine your light. Only enhance it.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s about making my own choices.”
Something I never had the luxury of with my parents breathing down my neck. Now that I know why they’ve been so meticulous my stomach turns in disappointment.
Screw them, though. They can’t control me anymore. No one can, only me.
It’s my choice to be with Fox and I’m not giving that up.
“Thanks for letting me talk it out, dude. You rock, forever and always.”
Thea huffs in amusement and cups my cheeks. “I just asked the questions, you did all the heavy lifting.”
I raise both arms and flex my biceps, enjoying the sound of her laugh. She pops up from the couch and disappears for a few minutes while I breathe through the lifted weight off my chest now that I found some clarity.
When she comes back, she has freshly baked cupcakes and holds up a bag of chips. “Want to gorge ourselves on snacks and marathon Bake Off until we pass out? I promise, you can eat all the cupcakes this time because I love you and you need it.”
“Yes,” I say, dragging it out in a lazy drawl. “You’re the best.”
“And don’t you forget it.”
“Never,” I swear.
Thirty-Three
Fox
Darkness fell over the warehouse before I moved from the spot where I collapsed.
I could lose everything all over again. Revenge set me on this path, and if I hadn’t followed it I would never have known the truth about my parents and what happened to them. It led me back to the girl who has always made my heart feel whole. But…it could be what poisons our relationship before it starts.
She never said we were done, even left most of her things behind, yet the dull ache in my chest has been a constant reminder of her absence as soon as I offered her the keys to the Charger.
There’s a row of crystals she lined up on the windowsill near the bed. I pick up a pink one that looks the same as the other bracelet she wears, then put it back. Pushing my fingers through my hair until it's sticking on end, I sigh raggedly.
I should’ve told her everything at the start, as soon as I trusted her again and let her in. I’m an idiot for hiding what I’ve done. The last secret I kept from her never should’ve come out because I was in pain and losing control.
It’s been two days since she left and every minute has been an agonizing blur of self-loathing, pushing my body past its limit so I pass out, then waking up drenched in a cold sweat in the middle of the night from a nightmare, bed fucking empty. No matter what I do, my demons come for me a
nyway. I keep at it. All so I don’t chase after her and beg her to look at me, to see past the monstrous things I’ve done.
Keeping her was a pipe dream. I knew I was someone she should run from, but I swallowed her in my darkness anyway.
In the short time she’d been here, she filled this space with her light. Now it feels as empty as I do. I miss her. The rhythm of her breathing when she stops, drops, and does yoga at all hours of the day. The shape of her next to me in bed. The amused little curl of the corners of her mouth when I steal the coffee she can’t ever finish. Damn it, the bright look that fills her eyes when she talks about how much California felt like a home she didn’t know she’d miss even though she’s only been once.
When she busted her way back into my heart, she put me back together. I’ve been broken for years, damaged beyond repair, but she made it better. She made me want more out of my life. As long as it meant having her by my side. I want to see her seek out every dream she has.
Taking in the state of the studio apartment, my stomach clenches. Destruction is all around me. For the first time in a long time, I don’t want it. Any of it.
I go to the kitchenette in the corner and pick up the twisted scrap metal. My fingers follow the curved shape and if I squint, I can see the shape of a flower. I didn’t know what this was before when I made it, one of those pieces I followed instinct instead of a plan.