I felt tears welling up, a wave of sorrow crashing over me. I could feel him drifting away, lost in the fog of all the other people who had left my life.
I was terrible. How could I have done this to him? He had always been sweet. We could have had something extraordinary; he could have been my savior.
Yet, I had ruined it, blinded by my own grief and anger.
I wished I were in the ocean, where the waves could swallow me whole and pull me into the depths of oblivion.
He deserved the truth, even if it meant he would hate me forever.
“I do like you, Dante. I’ve wanted that too, with you. But my hatred for Caiden runs deeper than my affection for you, and it consumed me.” I couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze. I simply couldn’t.
“I know. I just wanted to be there for you in any way that I could. I hate what he has done to you, and I don’t blame you for what you did.”
He wasn’t angry?
“You’re not mad?” I echoed my surprise aloud.
He shook his head sadly. “I’m disappointed, but not mad. I understand. I just wish you could have talked to me instead of self-destructing and texting Caiden from my phone.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” The tears continued to flow, a relentless stream. He might not be angry, but the trust between us had shattered, and deep down, I knew we couldn’t be friends after this. Perhaps it was for the best.
“I know your sister just died and you’re in a fragile state of mind. I understand, but I need to distance myself for my own happiness. Maybe when things are better, we could try again.”
This was it. He was making the speech. I wanted to pull himcloser, to beg him to adore me. But another part of me wanted to shove him away, to make it easier for him to leave.
I shut my eyes, battling the conflicting emotions within me.
“Okay. I understand.” I struggled to stifle my sobs. Another abandonment. Who did I have left?
My ghosts followed me like sinister shadows, perhaps that was all I had left.
Suddenly, his hand was on my chin, gently pulling my face toward him. I opened my eyes to find his gaze filled with sadness and affection, pain and conflict swirling together.
He leaned in, and I instinctively did the same. When our lips met, it was soft and delicate like feathers brushing against my skin.
The kiss lingered, both of us savoring the moment, the beauty of it flooding through me like a warm embrace. Memories of happiness and safety replayed in my mind like a hazy dream.
I could have experienced that every day. It could have been mine, but I had fallen into the trap of despair. The trap of vengeance and sin. The trap of overwhelming grief.
But would it really have worked out?A voice in my head pushed its way in. With the death of my sister, I would not have been able to maintain a stable relationship. A part of me understood that. But it was nice to imagine.
He pulled back, staring deeply into my eyes, searching for something that was no longer there. Then, he looked away.
“I’ll see you later, Amelia. Take care of yourself.”
He stood and walked away, leaving me on that bench, my lips still tingling from the kiss. My heart ached with an immense weight. I couldn’t share the information I had learned about my mother with him; he didn’t deserve that burden.
“Bye.” My voice barely reached him, lost in the wind, as he faded into the distance.
Goodbye, my almost lover.
THE PRESENT
AMELIA
I felt myself morphing into a wandering ghost. My limbs moved as if they were no longer my own, each step a laborious effort.
I could feel my weakened heartbeat thumping in my chest, a dull reminder of my existence.
