“You don’t deserve it.”
The insanity of the swampy, crocodile-infested waters Colson can’t seem to swim out of is not something any of us deserves, but I also know we’ll all be there for him regardless of what any of us says. Because it’s what you do when you care about someone.
“None of us do,” he murmurs, his eyes slicing to me as if we’re talking about me now. “Are you going to see him any time soon?”
I shrug. “I need to finish these finals. Need to keep my head clear for them. I want to know what’s going on with him,” I admit, “But I also feel like space is good for us. All we do when we’re together is argue.”
Besides, he probably doesn’t even want to see me.
He sighs, and I feel it in my bones, tracing its way from one to the next until my entire body seizes silently from the pressures of life.
“For the longest time, I thought you were the only one who could lift the blinders he had super glued over his eyes. I don’t think that’s true anymore,” he concedes. “I don’t think anyone has what he needs to see clearly. And I’m not saying that because I’m giving up on him, Vi. I think the only person who’s capable of saving himself…is him.”
Maintaining my standing forward bend,I relax my body and let my head hang heavy. My ponytail swishes to the ground as my hamstrings pull tight. When the burn mimics a line of fire ants, I sink into the stretch deeper.
I push every thought out of my mind, focusing on the violin that accompanies the piano in my earbuds. It’s melodic and curls around me in a way that almost feels like a hug. I breathe deeply and allow my lungs air for the first real time today. All morning, I made it through campus on half breaths. Enough to keep me going, but not sufficient to the point my body was getting what it needed.
A pressure I’m used to from doing lots of downward dogs fills my head. It’s like hanging upside down but not as prominent. I relish in the fullness of it, trusting how it's regulating my nervous system and giving me the chance to come down from the stressful high I’ve been riding for days.
When my music cuts out and a new melody graces my ears, I stand tall, take one last belly-deep breath and release my stance. I roll up my yoga mat, pressing the Velcro together so I can loopthe strap over my shoulder. My messenger bag with my books and water bottle sits off to the side. I head over, grab it, and look across the gym through the windows in the yoga room. It’s more muted in here than the rest of the gym, where boombox speakers pump uplifting workout music. College students are all around, and it’s not a surprise since it’s cold outside.
Pushing out the door and into the open space with weightlifting equipment and ellipticals, I hoist my messenger bag over my head. Somehow, it gets tangled in my ponytail. The smart thing to do would be to stop, set my water bottle down, and fix it.
But I’m not on my A game.
I keep walking, struggling to separate my hair from the metal buckle of my strap. Rounding the corner for the main entrance, I free the strands with a relieved breath.
The strap comes down to rest on my opposite shoulder at the same time I bump into someone. I stumble on my feet, the grip on my water bottle loosening. It crashes to the floor, the spout opening and water gushing out. One of my earbuds falls victim to the jostling as well, slipping out of my ear and skidding across the floor. I lose sight of it and reach for the water bottle to save it from creating a tiny flood where someone could slip.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” a guy says as his hand clasps around my purple stainless steel cup.
Surprise skitters up my spine.I know that voice.I spent two years of my life looking forward to hearing it after a long day and enjoying the way it murmured sweet words into my ear after nightfall. But I also remember how it cracked in brittle sadness when I broke up with its owner.
I glance up to find the same light green eyes that used to shine in the morning light that drenched my dorm room. “Webber,” I breathe out.
“Violet?” His gaze trails over my body, taking in my workout gear and disheveled look. He snaps the lid shut on the water bottle and holds it out. “You okay? I didn’t see you coming around the corner. You barreled right into me.”
I shake my head and drop my chin as I take the cup from him. There’s a hairline crack in the plastic lid. I run my finger over it as I mutter out, “Yeah, I…” I grab the strap of my bag, “I was having a bit of a malfunction with this. Got caught in my hair, and I was trying to walk and fix it at the same time.”
He steps forward, letting someone move around him while telling them to keep an eye out for the spilled water on the ground. I follow his lead when his hand comes up to my elbow to guide me out of the way. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you around.”
When I ended our relationship, Webber promised to give me the space I needed. Looking at him now, I notice the lightness in his features. The way his pretty eyes glow. The way he looks well rested and refreshed. Nothing like the last encounter we had.
“I’m…” I start, wanting to lie and tell him life is great. The reality is…life is a complete horror, and yoga is barely keeping me sane. “Hanging in there.”
His brows draw in, his gaze more observant than before. Concern flashes across his features, and when my eyes fall to the ground again, he reaches out and softly touches my upper arm. “Vi, what’s going on? I know things ended with us, but you can still talk to me.”
He says that, but see, I know otherwise. Ican’tlean on Webber when it comes to me and Colson. Whether or not he would understand isn’t the issue. It’s that…I don’t want him thinking it’s an open invitation to rekindle what we had. The flame we shared was blown out, and there’s no match in the world that could relight it.
I’m quiet for too long. His gaze bounces between mine as I think of a response.
His tongue darts out of his mouth and smooths over his bottom lip. And that brow of his, it arches in question, joining his words for one hell of a ride when he quietly asks, “Is it Sebastian’s cousin? Did he hurt you?”
I glance away becauseyes, he did hurt me,and I want to shout that from the tallest building in Chatham Hills. However, the only person I really want to hear it is Colson. Not my ex who stands in front of me with assessing eyes and judgmental words.
“I know that look, Violet. You look fucking wrecked. I know you two have been seeing each other, and I’m good with that. Just want to make sure you’re good, too. If something happened…”
I conjure as much strength as I can muster and raise my head. My spine straightens along with it. “I’m okay,” I answer, looking Webber in the eyes. “He didn’t do anything. Finals are just dragging me down.”It’s on me for falling for someone who’s tragically damaged yet beautifully made.
