I punch the pillow beneath my head, then roll onto my other side and press my face into the pillowcase, biting back a scream.
This is what happens when I open my heart. When I tear down the walls. I get hurt again and again and again. The anger coils in my gut, and I turn it inward because it has nowhere else to go.
I let my guard down because I want to believe someone can love something broken. But they always leave. Every time someone gets close, they decide it’s better for them to walk away. No one ever asks what is best for me. No matter how hard I want, how hard I love, it never changes the ending.
Numbness settles over me. I tell myself I will never let this happen again.
What is he sorry for? He broke me.
Catherine’s scream cuts through the house.
I know that sound. It is painful.
My head dips forward as I push myself up, the room moves, and last night’s drink still pumps through my blood. I walk step by step, my hand sliding along the wall, while the voices rise from below.
“We believe that after he killed the victim, he ran,” one of the cops says. “When he realized we were looking for him, he jumped.”
Another voice follows, while Catherine struggles to stay upright. “They found his sneakers near the cliffs, pointing toward the water. A few witnesses saw him jump.”
My eyes blur. I step closer to the railing and look down at them, my hands curling around the gold metal.
“We found the mask with the victim’s blood,” the cop continues. “And a knife with his fingerprints.”
The words fall into the space between us, and I stand there, holding my breath, waiting for the house to stop spinning.
Catherine doesn’t say a word. She barely stays on her feet, sobs tearing out of her as she clutches the edge of the cupboard that’s next to the door.
“We will search for the body, but…” one of the cops says, his head already shaking.
My legs give out. I slide down to the floor, staring through the railing at them, the world tilting.
“We are sorry for your loss.”
It was him. He saved me.
Tears spill down my cheeks. My fingers find the necklace at my throat and twist the medallion until it pulls into my skin. I sniff,my lower lip trembling, trying to hold myself together. The anger comes instead, burning inside me.
If I hadn’t gone with Knox, he would still be here.
The door closes. Catherine’s crying fills the hallway, moving through the empty house. I sit there and sob with her.
The pain cracks something open inside me. It pulls me to my feet.
I walk downstairs. At every step, I ignored everything behind me.
I reach for the door and pull it open.
Police lights fade down the street. Catherine calls my name, her voice breaking, but everything blurs, the world smearing at the edges.
How can this be the truth? How can this be the end?
I run.
I run so fast that I don’t feel the pebbles cutting into my bare feet. I fly across the driveway, into the road. Horns blare, brakes screech, and I keep going, the beach rising up in front of me.
Images flash behind my eyes of us, of what we could have been. How we could have left together, how we could have had forever.
Then there is only the ocean.
