“We’re okay?” she asks, sounding hopeful when I lost all hope.
“Of course.” The lie slips from my mouth with the same ease with which she dismissed me.
We’re not, but that doesn’t change the outcome. I will still make sure she’s taken care of and protected.
I am convinced that my heart has always been hers to do as she pleases. She simply chose to trample all over it.
She squirms in her seat and asks, “Will you come to my concert?”
“I wouldn’t miss it. I promise.”
She nods, not looking appeased. Needing to ease her, I bend over the table. It takes everything in me not to touch her. Her words only reinforced what I have known all along. I am not good for her. And I would rather put a bullet to my head myself than cause her discomfort.
“Nothing will change.”
I will watch you from the shadows, like always. Will make sure you get whatever you desire.
I don’t have to say that. She knows.
When she falls asleep, I sigh in relief because I can shatter in peace.
Going to the bar, I grab a bottle of vodka and return to my seat.
Drinking and watching her.
On repeat.
I do that until I think I’d rather be dead than face the biggest loss of my life.
When the flight attendant passes by, I thrust the half-empty bottle at her, trying to hide my weakness. Once Dahlia wakes up, I must put the impervious mask on. That her words didn’t decimate me. That she didn’t just set my world on fire, leaving me to inhale the ashes, asphyxiating on misery.
She thrashes in her seat, her face draining of color. “No,” she says in a high-pitched tone ringing with panic.
I shoot from my seat, ready to rip her from whatever nightmare grips her.
Gently, I wake her up by brushing my knuckles along her cheeks and calling her name.
Her eyes pop open, and the relief is instant.
“It was just a nightmare,” I say in the gentlest tone I can conjure.
“Yeah,” she gulps.
“Good, let’s watch a movie,” I suggest to distract her.
She loves musicals, so that’s what I search for. I don’t even know which movie I picked, but she’s focused on the screen, fully immersed, and that’s all that matters.
Closing my eyes, I just wish to vanish somewhere else for a while and return numb enough to keep me in check.
Thankfully, by the time I wake up, the flight attendant says, “We’re about to land, sir.”
I nod, and it’s then that I notice Dahlia staring at my chest.
Fuck, I forgot to button up. I wonder if she thinks I am insane for having a tattoo of her name now. Her breakup left me so unbalanced that I can’t react.
I button my shirt up, and she blinks as if waking up from a trance.
Once the jet lands, she remains rooted in place at the exit, as if she doesn’t want to leave.
