My body feels different. It’s heavy in a way that’s not entirely physical. It feels marked, claimed, still humming from the feeling of our bodies entangled. Heat rushes to my cheeks as the memories rise in waves. Alex’s mouth on my skin, him inside of me, the sounds he made when my lips were wrapped around him.
God, it feels like he has rebuilt my brokenness with his bare hands. All the worry and fear disappeared and I forgot for a while that I was dying. With him, I was a regular woman in the arms of a man that actuallysawme, alive and wanted.
As I start to come back to reality I realize the house is full of nothing but silence. It's thick and loud. Even the TV is turned off when I vaguely remember falling asleep with it on, while laying in Alex’s arms.
He must’ve turned it off.
My eyes blink open fully and I stretch out, reaching for the warm body that should be beside me. Instead, my fingers graze only the cool space where he had been. The cushion is empty and the blanket is draped only around me, as if he was never here in the first place.
He’s gone.
My smile falters and something dark twists, deep and cold, in the pit of my stomach.
Did I dream about everything that happened the last two days? No, no. Maybe he just stepped away, to the bathroom, or outside for some air or to clear his head.
I push myself upright and pull the blanket tighter around my body. The room is still dim, the morning light starting to leak through the living room curtains. The black dress I wore the other night still lays crumpled in the corner of the living room floor. The fire in the furnace looks like it was refilled not too long ago. Alex’s scent still lingers in the air, so I know that I am not crazy and he had to have been here not that long ago.
But I don’t see him.
I scan the room again, my eyes landing on the entry table. No keys. No hoodie. No boots by the door.
The ache in my chest shifts to something sharper.
Heleft.
Of course he left. I should’ve known that it all meant nothing to him. I should’ve known that the day of the festival when all he wanted to do was get me off.
He finally got what he wanted and dipped at the first chance.
My arms wrap around my knees, hugging them to my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing away the memory of the way he touched me, looked at me, kissed me, held me like I was broken and he was trying to keep all the pieces together. I swallow the thoughts back. I shouldn’t be surprised he’s gone. This is what Alex does. He blames me, but he also pushes and pulls, gives just enough and then takes it all away.
I let myself believe he could stay for once.
I’m so fucking stupid.
My jaw clenches as anger flashes hot beneath the hurt. I don’t get to be reckless like I have all the time in the world. I throw the blanket off me and stand way too fast. The room tips violently and I reach for the back of the couch, vision fracturing and fading. My heart slams hard against my ribs. The beats are fast. Too fucking fast.
I close my eyes and force in a breath, willing the wave of dizziness to pass. But it doesn’t. My legs tremble beneath me, knees soft and buckling as I stagger toward the kitchen.
My phone. I need my phone.
I need Cam. Or Leo. Someone.
Each step feels heavier than the last as I make it halfway to the counter before my chest seizes. A blinding flash of pain explodes through my sternum, white hot, like fire bursting from the inside out. I cry out, clutching my chest as my legs give away.
No.
No, no, no.
Not now.
My heart is hammering, brisk and wild. My ICD should be kicking in again. It should shock me back into rhythm any minute now.
It doesn’t.
Why isn’t it working?
Panic claws its way up my throat as I collapse onto my knees, fingers scrabbling across the hardwood floor.
