The long way to us

Chapter 5

Elijah's POV
The room was shrouded in dim, golden light, the late afternoon sun spilling through the half-open blinds and casting thin, slanted shadows across the wooden floor. Elijah sat alone, guitar in hand, his fingers tracing the fretboard like a map of a world he had lost himself in. The silence around him was almost deafening, filled only by the soft hum of traffic from the streets below and the distant chirping of sparrows outside the window.

He pressed his thumb against the strings and let out a shaky breath. The chords seemed to carry their own weight, drawing out the deep ache that had settled in his chest ever since Leah had walked out of his life. He knew he had made mistakes, more than he wanted to admit, but he couldn't silence the pain of regret. No matter how hard he tried, her absence was a constant presence, suffocating and unyielding.

Leah. Just her name conjured a tidal wave of memories, each one crashing into him with a force that left him breathless. He had tried to move on, to find solace in the company of others, but it was like trying to find warmth in the rain. Nothing compared to her, not even the hollow cheers of his fans or the endless applause of a crowd. The music that once brought him joy now sounded empty, a cruel reminder of what he had lost.

**Flashback**

It was a night in early autumn when everything had changed. The set was alive with the laughter of the crew and the murmur of cast members exchanging stories as they prepared for the next scene. Elijah had been standing by the craft services table, distractedly sipping on a cup of coffee, when Leah walked in. She had been in the middle of a conversation with one of the assistant directors, but the moment their eyes met, the room seemed to still. For a split second, it was just the two of them, locked in a silent exchange that spoke louder than words.

Elijah knew that Leah was something rare, something he didn't deserve but desperately wanted. She had an energy that drew people to her, an effortless charm that could make even the darkest moments seem brighter. And he loved her for it, even before he could admit it to himself. That night, they sat on the back porch of the studio, the distant city lights twinkling like stars and the sound of crickets filling the spaces between their conversations.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we weren't here?" Leah had asked, her voice soft and curious.

Elijah smiled, a little too wistfully. "All the time."

It was in those small moments that he felt the most alive. But he never said it. He never had the courage to tell her that he loved her. The fear of losing her, of facing the reality of his father's demands and the future that awaited him if he pursued a life with Leah, silenced him. And now, looking back, he regretted it more than anything.

**Present Day**

Elijah strummed the guitar, the soft notes spiraling into the room like whispers of memories he had pushed to the back of his mind. His hands moved on their own, carving out the beginnings of a song, a desperate attempt to channel the raw ache into something he could hold onto. The words that began to form in his mind were painful, a reflection of the emptiness that had consumed him since Leah's departure.

*"I don't see you
You're not in every window I look through
And I don't miss you
You're not in every single thing I do."*

He let the lyrics settle in the air, a raw confession that he hadn't planned on sharing with anyone. His voice broke as he sang the next line, the vulnerability of it all bringing a fresh wave of anguish.

* I'm alone in my head
Looking for love in a stranger's bed
But I don't think I'll find it
'Cause only you could fill this empty space."*

Elijah's fingers tightened around the neck of the guitar as the memories flooded back. The late-night conversations, the way Leah's laughter would echo in his ears long after she'd left, the moments when they'd sit in the quiet of the studio, sharing dreams that felt bigger than both of them. Those were the moments he clung to, now that she was gone.

**Flashback**

There had been a night after a particularly long day of filming when Leah had come to him with tears in her eyes. He had known something was wrong the moment she walked in, her shoulders hunched and her eyes rimmed red.

"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual. "What happened?"

She had swallowed hard, shaking her head as if the weight of her pain was too heavy to carry. "It's just... everything feels too much sometimes."

Elijah had pulled her into an embrace, not caring that he was putting himself in a position where his own heart might break. The warmth of her body against his was a reminder of what he stood to lose if he didn't find the courage to be honest. He whispered into her hair, words that would forever be unsaid.

"I'm here, Leah. Always."

Her eyes had met his, full of unshed tears, and for a moment, he had dared to hope. But hope was a dangerous thing, and Elijah knew that better than anyone.

**Present Day**

As the song began to take shape, Elijah was no longer in his room. He was in a place where Leah's laughter could still reach him, where the memories of her embrace could still hold him together. He closed his eyes and let the music wash over him, every note a testament to the love that was still buried deep inside him.

He played the chorus one last time, the words hanging heavy in the room.

* I don't know who I am without you
I'm a liar and a cheat
I let my ego swallow me
And that's why I might never see you again."*

It was not enough, and he knew it. But it was all he had left to give her. The song would never bring her back, but it would be a reminder that, in the end, he had tried—tried to hold onto the one thing that had made him whole.

He laid the guitar down and let out a shaky breath. The room was silent, but for the first time in a long time, the silence felt like it held a promise. The promise that one day, the pain would ease, and maybe, just maybe, he'd find a way to live with it. Without her.