Our Last Dance

Chapter 26

My hands shook like leaves in a storm as I struggled to haul myself up off the cold bathroom floor. Each move felt like lifting a mountain, and my breaths came fast and hard, like I'd been sprinting a marathon.

I desperately searched inside, expecting to find a flood of emotions—anger, sadness, betrayal. But there was nothing. Just this empty pit in my gut, like someone had vacuumed out all the feelings.

Panic gripped me tighter than a vise, squeezing the air from my lungs. I pounded on my chest, hoping to stir up something, anything, but all I got was the echo of my own emptiness.

Breathing turned into a battle, each inhale a struggle against an invisible weight pressing down on me. I clawed at my chest, trying to tear away the numbness, but it clung to me like a shadow in the dark.

I dragged myself up using the wall for support, my legs feeling like jelly beneath me. I needed answers, and I needed them now, or I was going to completely lose it.

Elijah.

A bitter laugh bubbled up from deep within me, his name echoing in the hollow chambers of my mind. Yet, despite the sound, I still felt nothing. It was as if the truth had sucked the very essence of emotion from my being, leaving me an empty shell.

Grabbing the car keys from the table, I made my way to the door, my movements mechanical and devoid of any sense of purpose. I didn't bother changing my clothes or grabbing a coat; I couldn't care less about such trivial matters.

All I craved was confirmation from Elijah, a simple reassurance that what I had dreamed was nothing but a twisted figment of my imagination. If it turned out to be true, if my mind had truly scrambled the pieces of reality, I didn't know how I would cope. The mere thought sent shivers down my spine, and I couldn't shake the feeling that if it were indeed the truth, it would be enough to destroy me.

I strode out the door and slipped into my car, the engine roaring to life as I reversed out of the driveway. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of my mom hurrying to the door, calling out my name in concern. Ignoring her calls, I stepped on the gas, speeding away from the house as if my life depended on it.

As I drove, a sinking feeling settled in my stomach. I realized that I didn't know Elijah's address. It struck me then, like a bolt of lightning, that he had never taken me to his place.

Why?

I dialed sister's number from the Graceful hearts Orphanage, a knot tightening in my stomach. Somewhere deep down, I knew why I hadn't called Elijah. I couldn't bring myself to ask him for his address because I feared he'd have time to prepare, to concoct some elaborate lie.

He was fucking with you all along.

No, I couldn't accept that. He wouldn't lie to me about something so significant. The thought sent a surge of panic through me, and I clung desperately to the hope that what I had dreamed was nothing but a cruel fabrication of my own mind.

I pressed her for Elijah's address, my words tumbling out in a frantic rush. At first, she hesitated, sensing something off in my urgency. But I spun my lies with enough conviction to convince her, and eventually, she relented. It hit me then, like a punch to the gut, that she must have been close to all of us back then. How could I have forgotten? It was like I was living in a fragmented memory, grasping at scattered pieces of a puzzle that refused to fit together.

I drove aimlessly, the only thing in my mind a constant buzzing noise. Waves of nausea hit me intermittently, leaving me feeling queasy and numb. I lost track of time as I drove, the minutes blending into hours until I finally reached the destination.