Deja vu floods me.
Only weeks ago, I was doing the same thing, packing up my entire life in silence and leaving the apartment I shared with the woman I love. But then it was Sophie's sobs echoing from the living room, not Elise and Rhea’s screaming.
This time hurts significantly less. Honestly, not at all. I don't really feel anything but the nausea burning my stomach. Guilt, I think, or maybe just the realization that I've run out of delusional lies to tell myself. I keep moving, walking into the bathroom, grabbing everything of mine—razor, toothbrush, aftershave, and shoving it all in my bag.
I sling my bags over my shoulders, passing by the women still arguing, and head right out the door without another word.
"Paul, where are you going? Paul!" Elise's voice screeches after me.
I keep walking, heading toward the stairwell, hearing Rhea's voice fade as she snarls at Elise.
"No, Elise, I'm dead fucking serious—you have ten minutes, or you can find all your shit at Goodwill!"
When I reach my car, I toss in my bags and slide into thedriver's seat, fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly, the leather cool against my palms.
And then I just drive.
I drive and drive, mindless and numb, until I realize where I'm headed. Somewhere safe. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere where I can still almost hear her laugh. The beach.
I find a parking space and step out into the biting wind, fall coming in fast and sharp this year.
God, Sophie probably loves this.
I don't feel the cold, all I feel is the agony cracking open my chest, and I don't stop walking until I reach the water.
Sophie.
Memories assault me of us sitting on this beach together, her fingers wrapped around mine, her head on my shoulder. I can practically feel it still, and I reach up to my shoulder to try to capture the warmth. I can’t, because she’s gone, and it’s all my fault.
I had a pure diamond in my hands and all I had to do was hold her gently.
Instead, I dropped her.
No, I threw her away, like she was nothing.
Because she was sick, she was scared, and I was scared of hurting.
I made her pain all about me.
I grab at my hair, pulling until it hurts, and my tears fall unbidden.
I want to hurt, I want to bleed, I deserve to for what I've done.
Oh God...
What have I done?
"Sophie..." I cry into the wind, sitting there and praying for a way to reset time.
Chapter Sixteen
Sophie
It's my birthday tomorrow.
That’s the first thought on my mind as I wake up, feeling like I didn't sleep. Every hour or so, nightmares yanked me out of rest—a horrifying mix of holding my hair as it fell out in clumps, and then seeing my ex-fiancé make out with his mistress against his car.
Oh, wait...
