Page 288 of Breathe Like Hell

Neither of us knew it, neither of us planned it, but her innocent life was the thing to keep me on Earth as an unstable Thrausian without my anchor. She’d been a vessel for Micah’s care since she was an infant. She’d grown up with his fingerprints on her soul.

His eyes caught on mine for a moment, then fell away. But not so quickly that I couldn’t see the emotion in them.

“I guess that means it was you, who…” I trailed off, my voice hoarse. I cleared my throat.

“Yeah.” He pushed his hair back, running his fingers through the dark blond strands.

I could never lessen anything I felt with Micah. He could see it in my eyes, feel it in my skull. He affected me just as much now as he had back then. More, probably.

I missed him so fucking much I couldn’t breathe.

I missed what we used to be.

I missed being in love with him, fucking him, living with him, sleeping with him every single night. Showering together, watching random shit on TV, trying to cook things, fighting and making up. He used to be my entire life, and ever since him, I’d been empty. The world was so much smaller without Micah in my life.

“I need to ask⁠—”

“Stop,” Micah cut me off, already heading towards the door. My pulse stumbled and sped up. He clearly already knew what was on my mind, what had been on my mind ever since he admitted to me the truth of why he’d left the way he had.

I stepped in front of him, holding his shoulders. The warmth of him seeped through his shirt, burying itself in my palms. He was so solid, so strong. A muscle flinched in his jaw.

“Don’t leave,” I said.

“Don’t ask whatever you’re about to ask.” His eyes locked onto mine. Brown and blue. Steel, cold smoke, washed out with exhaustion; his blue irises always belonged to the sky. And mine had always been trapped on the ground, destined to land here from the start.

“I have to.” I let go of him, but he didn’t move. He was holding perfectly still.

Standing before him like this was like standing before a towering pine, and I was the lightning always searching for somewhere to land. Let me talk to you. Please. I’m fucking dying.

Micah glanced away, his fingers flexing at his sides.

He wasn’t going to give me permission, but he hadn’t tried leaving again.

My mouth was dry when I opened it to speak again. “Did I?” I questioned.

Almost.

Our last night…

There was a pause while he searched my eyes, while he saw just how badly I needed this answer. I needed to know. Even if I didn’t deserve to know.

“No,” Micah answered. A beat of silence. “You almost did.”

Relief didn’t come with his response.

It was stupid to ever believe I could be comforted by this weak truth. Almost was never going to absolve me.

For months, I’d been hoping there was a version of this conversation where he told me no and everything inside my chest settled.

But it didn’t matter if I’d crossed the line or only stood with one foot hanging over it.

He’d still looked at me with fear. He’d still left.

“Why don’t you just blame me?” I asked. I hooked my hands behind my neck, fingers digging into my muscles. “This is my fault. It’ll be easier to accept that. I don’t need your protection.”

“Because that’s not what happened.”

“But almost isn’t any better than⁠—”