“Tell me how to take that pain away.”
I whisper to myself,Love me again. Tell me it was a mistake. Hold me and say I’m still yours. But I don’t. I keep walking, chasing the orange haze of the dying day like it might warm me from the inside out.
“Who hurt you like this, baby girl?”
I laugh. Hollow. Cruel. “A boy pretending to be a man.”
“I’m a man, baby. And I’d treat you better than he ever did.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Let me.”
Let him? Fucking let him really….
The irony is, he alreadyknowsme. He just doesn’t know who I am now.
“Let’s start at the beginning. What’s your favourite colour?”
Do I keep playing this cruel game? Do I let him fall in love with Pandora—this curated echo of me?
My phone vibrates again.
Dane this time. “Nobody told you heaven could hurt. But I see it in your eyes, you want someone to hold you through the storm. People like us, Penn… we dream too loud. That’s why it hurts so fucking much when those dreams fall apart.”
I close my eyes and let the wind whip my hair across my face; let it slice me open in all the places I pretend are healed.
Some part of me, the part he didn’t touch, wants to believe Dane. The rest is just bone dust and sea salt.
I open my eyes.
And Blake is standing in front of me.
Flowers in one hand. A teddy bear in the other.
And Iwishthey were for our daughter. But Iknowthey’re for Pandora.
He has no idea.
That I’m her.
That she’s me.
That I’m bleeding out behind this mask.
My eyes sting. I smile, weak and war-torn. He steps closer. My fingers twitch with the urge to reach out.
“Penn… are you okay?”
I swallow hard, clear my throat.
“I’m fine.” A lie I’ve told too well.
“No, you’re not.” His hand grazes my cheek, and the moment his fingers brush my skin, I forget how to breathe. I close my eyes, shamefully selfish in the softness.
“I want to wake up from this nightmare,” I whisper.
“Oh, Penn…” His voice falters. Ithurts. I know that sound. It’s regret, confusion, and longing.
