The way something can be broken and still pretend to live.
That’s what I’ve been doing since Chase left.
Not living. Not healing.
Just twitching.
Like a severed thing that doesn’t know it’s already dead.
I wonder how many hearts he tore through.
All five?
Or did one stay untouched, quiet, waiting, buried beneath the wreckage of the others?
Because I swear, I still feel something beating in my chest sometimes. When I hear his voice singing our songs. When I catch the scent of his cologne in my dirty laundry bin. When I wear his silver ring around my neck.
When I look at a goddamn toaster.
He didn’t just leave.
He eradicated himself. Scribbled an inky line through our story.
Like our love was a cancer he had to cut out.
And still, I twitch.
I breathe.
I lie to everyone who says I look better now.
I’m not. Not even close.
And the worst part is, if he came back tomorrow…
All five hearts would beat again.
Chapter 54Annalise
Thanksgiving comes and goes. Down comes the fall foliage, and up goes the twinkling holiday lights. It all looks the same.
Gray, dull, and hopeless.
It’s been two years since I met Chase Rhodes in my brother’s beaten-down, slushy-stained red sedan. He was fighting for his life then.
Now I’m fighting for mine.
I curl up on the couch with a fleece blanket as Kenna floats around my brother’s living room, lighting candles that smell like sugar cookies and peppermint pie. She hums Christmas songs under her breath, and I crack a smile when a note goes wildly off-key.
She shoots me a wink. “I knew my terrible singing would come in handy one day.”
“Mm,” I mutter, snuggling deeper into my blanket burrito of despair. “There is always a trace of joy to be found in tragedy.”
“You want to know the real tragedy here?”
“Not really.”
“You haven’t changed out of those ridiculous pajamas for a week. I swear, every time I see you, I’m forced to look at that off-putting pattern of hamsters reading romance novels.”
