Deep down, I know she’s trying to help. She’s being a good friend, thinking about me, but I’m still not ready to face what happened. I still carry the intense pain with me every single day, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to open up about it.
“I’m really fine, Ava. Look, I’ve got a lot of work to do, so can we talk later?”
“Trix, there’s something—” I clench my jaw tight, as she’s interrupted by one of the kids crying. It’s not that I don’t love her children, because I do.
It’s just I feel such immense envy and jealousy.
I want what she has.
A family.
I could’ve had that, too, but my baby died.
Holding onto the phone tightly, Ava says, “Sorry, Alexei is getting hungry.”
“No, it’s fine. I have to go anyway.”
“Wait, Trixie—”
I hang up the phone, before she can finish, and I pretend I’m okay. I suck in a deep breath, and once my walls are back in place, I go about my day, as if nothing is wrong.
But deep down, my soul feels, as if it’s dying all over again.
Why did I accept the invitation to meet some of my co-workers for a drink after work? At the time, it seemed like a good idea, or more of a good distraction. However, the longer I sit at the table with them, I realize just how much I have changed.
Before the … incident, I loved to go out and have fun with my friends. I enjoyed having a good time, while living my best life. But now, I find myself searching for the door, hoping someone will give me an easy out. I don’t know how many times I’ve looked at the bar’s door, wondering if I just snuck out, would anyone even notice I was gone.
I don’t fit in here.
I don’t even like most of these people.
What am I doing?
As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I look down at my untouched drink, and then glance up to my co-workers. They’re having so much fun, drinking and laughing. While they’re distracted with someone’s story, I quickly get up, leave some money for my untouched drink on the table, and then walk right out of the bar.
It’s kind of sad no one saw me, or even thought to ask why I was leaving. Though the thought is so depressing, I accept it, as my new life now. As much as it hurts, I know I can’t go back to my old life.
Sebastian wouldn’t want me anyway, especially not after what I said to him.
The sudden urge to call my mom stops me dead in my tracks, because the idea that I might actually need her is ridiculous. I’ve never needed her before, so I’m not sure why I’m feeling this way. I also know if I do call her and tell her what’s going on, she’ll end up making it about her, or worse, put me down for feeling like this.
Shaking my head, I push away the stupid notion of needing her, and then I continue to walk towards my car. As I get in, I lean back against the seat, wondering what I need to do to fill this new void in my heart. How do I go about the rest of my life, knowing how huge this new void is?
The answer is, there is no real answer.
Starting up the car, I make my way home, thinking about how I was once happy. I’ve been thinking a lot about Sebastian, and more importantly, how he’s doing. Does he feel this empty pit in his stomach, too? Does he hurt, like I still am? A part of me wants to reach out to him, but I don’t. I’m afraid of what he’ll say or do, if we ever happen to see each other again.
Would we act like strangers, as if meeting for the first time? Would he ignore me, like I don’t exist? Sighing, I realize it’s pointless to think about any of this. Honestly, there is no point, because he’ll never forgive me for what I said to him.
I don’t deserve his forgiveness anyway.
Pulling up at my apartment complex, I park and quickly make my way inside. An entire bottle of wine is calling my name, and also, a hot bubble bath to sooth away the tension I suddenly feel.
Just as I find the key to my apartment, I glance up, and I instantly lose my breath. I stop in the middle of the hallway, wondering if I’ve finally lost it. This is that pivotal moment that I think I might have just crossed over to insanity.
Sebastian sits on the floor, right outside my door, seeming to be waiting for me. He doesn’t notice me at first, and I’m honestly glad he hasn’t. It gives me a moment to take him in, and to admire just how handsome he still is.
That and the fact that six months hasn’t changed a damn thing about how much I still love him.
Maybe, this is the universe giving me a sign that it’s time to face him. Maybe, it’s fate playing a role with how my life has turned out. Either way, I know seeing him now isn’t just a coincidence. There is a reason he’s here, waiting right outside my door.
Now, I just have to decide, if I should walk up to him, or if I should just turn around and act like I never saw him.
My curiosity wins out, and I take a step forward.
And then, I take another and another.
The last step, I must finally catch his attention, since his head raises, and as soon as our gazes connect, my heart beats again for the first time in months. It feels like I haven’t felt my heart beating in so long, but now that he’s here, it’s finally decided to wake up.
As I reach him, I have to remind myself to breathe. It’s refreshing to feel all these sensations again.
