My throat burns.
My heart fractures.
His hands slide to my throat, soft, careful, holding me there like I’m something holy.
“But you didn’t come back.” His breath ghosts over my lips. “You let him take me.”
I shake my head, desperate, but I don’t know what I’m denying.
“I— I didn’t— I didn’t know— I didn’t mean to leave you?—”
His thumb presses into the hollow of my throat.
“You forgot.” His voice is so soft I almost miss it. “You promised you wouldn’t forget.” His mouth grazes mine. “But you did.”
The air collapses between us.
His hands grip the chain tighter, dragging me closer, locking me into him like he can still make me stay.
“You forgot.” His breath shudders. “But I didn’t.”
He kisses me like he’s stitching me back into him.
Like he’s anchoring me to the place I left him.
His lips crush mine.
His voice breaks.
“You won’t forget me this time.”
I choke on a sob I don’t understand.
I don’t know if I remember.
I don’t know if I want to.
But his hands keep me here.
His chain keeps me here.
And I let him.
Because what if I did forget?
What if I did leave him?
What if I promised I wouldn’t?
What if I promised to save him?
What if I broke that promise?
And what if he’s been waiting for me to come back this whole time?
His hands tremble where they’re buried in my hair, his knuckles scraping against my scalp, desperate and grounding.
“You used to hold my hand in the dark,” he whispers, his breath warm and shaking against my cheek.
