The 18th Floor

Chapter Thirty Eight

LUCIEN'S POV

After dropping Cyrene back at home, I jump in the shower, trying to clean my thoughts. I can't believe how much I told her, how much I was able to open up. She doesn't need to know the whole truth, but she knows enough for now.

I didn't need to tell her how I wished the plane would crash, or the brakes on my car would stop working. I didn't need to mention how I couldn't sleep at night the times I was away, finding myself near the ledge of the balcony one to many times, only to be pulled back by the thought of my nephews finding my crumpled body.

Nobody else in the family needed anymore issues. She was the only sane thought that kept me going, and I had nearly fucked that up too. Nearly pushed her away, but she kept pulling. Pulling enough that I finally collapsed.

I finally spoke about what I had been keeping bottled for years and years. Shit so deep that even Simon never discovered the true depth I've been hiding, the true emptiness I reached inside.

It's easy with her, so fucking easy that it scares me. I don't know how she does. Mental health is one battle, but to be in battle with both your body and mind? She is stronger than she takes credit for; I don't think I would have ever been able to survive it. Sometimes, I wish I could fix it for her, make everything better for her, but I can't say that.

I wouldn't change the person she is, even if she thinks she's better off what someone would class as "normal", I wouldn't change her at all. If I could, I would make sure she never gets hurt again, she never has a depressing thought again, those are things I would go out of my way to change. But everything she is now, is what makes Cyrene, Cyrene.

I'm still falling, I can't help myself with how much I want her and it scares me. I hope she knows I'm willing to give her it all, worship her all the time.