Michaella, a gifted writer, finds herself haunted by the memories of a love that slipped through her fingers. As she pens down her heartache and cherished moments with Gabrielle, an architect whose charm and warmth once made her world brighter, she...
I woke up with a jolt, my heart hammering in my chest. My sheets were a mess, my hair tangled, and my lips—my lips still tingled from last night. What the hell did I do? Panic washed over me in waves. I sat up, gripping the edge of the bed, my mind spinning. I kissed him. I kissed Alex. The weight of what had happened settled deep in my chest, an ache that pulsed with regret, confusion, and something else I didn't want to name.
I kissed him back.
My fingers instinctively reached up to touch my lips, as if that would erase the memory. But nothing could. I swung my legs over the bed, my feet hitting the cold wooden floor. I needed to move, to get out of my head before the spiral swallowed me whole. Grabbing my running shoes, I threw on the first hoodie I found and darted out of the apartment, desperate to clear my mind.
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The morning air was crisp and sharp against my skin as I ran, the familiar rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement grounding me. My lungs burned as I pushed myself harder, faster, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't outrun the thoughts chasing me.
What does this mean? Why did I let it happen?
I loved Gabrielle. I still loved Gabrielle. I couldn't deny that. But the way Alex had looked at me, touched me—there was something undeniable about it. Something that made me feel alive and terrified all at once.
What's wrong with me?
Every step I took, every deep breath I forced into my lungs, felt like a desperate attempt to cleanse myself of last night. But it wasn't working. Nothing was working. I couldn't stop thinking about how I kissed him back, how in that fleeting moment, I let myself forget everything. Forget Gabrielle, forget the pain, forget the promises I had made to myself.
By the time I circled back to my apartment, my legs ached, and my chest felt like it might collapse, but none of it mattered. The chaos in my mind was louder than the pounding of my heart. I headed straight for the shower, letting the hot water run over me, trying to wash away the confusion. But all I could think about was Alex—his lips, his hands, his words.
I kissed him back.
I stepped out of the shower, wrapped myself in a towel, and made a cup of coffee, hoping the warmth might settle the storm inside me. But even the familiar smell couldn't soothe the conflict gnawing at me.
I reached for my phone, hesitated for a second, then dialled Pamela. She always had a way of talking sense into me, of helping me untangle the mess in my head.
"Hey," Pamela's voice came through after a few rings. "What's up? You okay?"
"Pam..." My voice cracked, betraying the calm I was trying to keep. "I kissed Alex."
