My eyes keep flicking to the closet doors, drawn to those slabs of wood as if they’re summoning me.
My muscles twitch with each careful step I take toward them.
They’re just doors. Two plain pieces of wood. Still, I’m standing here like they might explode if I touch them.
Sharp pain flashes through my hand, cool trails of blood sliding down my skin as I stop in front of the doors. I look down to see shards of glass embedded in my palm, blood seeping around them.
Why am I hesitating?
I replay the warning signs. The bare dresser should have tipped me off. But denial was easier. Ignoring the emptiness meant I didn’t have to face the truth, not until it screamed at me from every room.
I grip the handle and yank the door open, staring at the barren space where her things once were, the cold seeping deeper into my bones.
Gone.
It's all gone.
She's gone.
“Hayvin!” I shout, letting the picture frame fall. I grab a shirt from the closet, not caring which, and wrap it around my bleeding hand before bolting from the room.
Everywhere I look, she’s gone. Not a trace remains. Aside from the photo on the nightstand, it’s as if she never existed. Three damn years, and all that’s left is a single picture.
Time blurs as I slump against the closet door, the broken frame cupped in my hand. Red drops mar the glass, but the pain barely registers.
How can I care about something so trivial as a cut when something inside my chest is ripping me apart? A relentless pressure squeezes my lungs until every breath is a struggle.
My brows knit as I spot a dried drop of blood marring Hayvin’s face in the photo. I scrape it away with my thumbnail, sighing in relief when her smile reappears.
How did I screw this up so badly? Three days ago, I had fucking everything. Now, I have nothing at all.
Somewhere along the line, I fucked everything up, and now I have to face what I should have confronted long ago. I need to dig through my mind, my heart, and this mess of a life to figure out how to piece together what I shattered.
I replay every moment with Hayvin before I left, each memory stinging sharper than the last. It’s painfully fucking clear nowthat while I was clinging to the idea of picking up where we left off, she was already saying her final goodbye. She never intended to be here when I returned.
A jagged laugh rips out of me as I slam my head against the wall.
She handed me the chance to choose her, to stay and mend what she already knew was broken. But I ran, a coward through and through, because those three words she said scared me more than anything else ever could.
Motherfucker.
For someone who’s got it together everywhere else, I’m a complete fucking idiot when it comes to love.
What is that Hayvin is always saying to me when she’s reading me those damn Reddit posts she and Everleigh are always sharing back and forth?
“You can’t fix stupid, Alek.”
A rough, aching laugh escapes me as I push myself up from the floor.
No, you can’t fix stupid, Vin baby, but you can learn from it. And it looks like I’ve got a hell of a lot of learning ahead of me.
Seeing Through You
Hayvin
Alekbegantrackingmethe moment he realized I was truly gone. As Everleigh and I lugged boxes, her Ring camera chimed, and there he was on the screen, fists pounding her door. His desperate pleas cut at my heart, but I just watched, detached and motionless, as he called my name.
There's never been a time in the three years we've been together that Alek has lowered himself enough to plead with someone else.
