She was lost and so was he.
Who knew that two broken hearts can connect to one.
Arabella's world has been rigged since the day she was born. Her fate had been decided for her much longer before she even had been conceived in the womb. So it came as...
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I slowly step out of my room, knowing it is late now at 3 a.m. Everyone is in bed, and that means she, too, is hidden away in my sister's room. So I can roam around a little.
It is weird having to hide away in my own house. And sure, no one is making me. But I don't think I can handle running into her again. I just can't bear to see the pain I've caused her through her eyes again.
I've been watching her. From afar. She's been here often, and I can't help myself from watching her from around a corner. She looks lighter now. I don't know if that has to do with her confrontation with Dahlia a couple of weeks ago that Marco mentioned, or if, in all honesty, it's because she doesn't have to see me. Maybe I did free a part of her.
And while I sometimes have to physically hold myself back from having her look at me one more time to see those forest-green eyes shine with a love I don't deserve, I know it is better this way.
The more days I spend without her looks, her words—just her presence—the heavier it feels in my chest. She was an irreplaceable light in my life, and now without her, I feel like that familiar tunnel is starting to appear. The empty and dark one.
Marco's been pissy with me and my attitude. But fuck me, this hurts. Having to watch the one girl I've ever loved walk away from me. Even though I was the one who pushed her away.
I don't deserve it.
I don't deserve her.
I don't.
Fuck.
I don't.
I want to.
I really do.
No.
Think of her.
She has to be strong for herself. Not you.
Jesus, I'm still going to therapy for fuck's sake. If I can't handle one loss from years ago, how could I handle losing her? Maybe not ever having her is the only way to prevent it.
She might think I don't want her. She might think that I hate her. She thinks that I could never choose her.
But I already did. She was my home. A sanctuary I found myself running to many times. She may not have realized it, but I gravitated toward her when I was upset. When I found myself digging into that dark place, one touch of her hand was all it took to pull me out.
I find myself walking the same way I have multiple times these past nights—to the balcony that looks over the backyard. As I look at the sky full of stars, my eyes run down the yard, landing on one particular figure lying in the grass: arms behind her head, one leg kicked out while the other stays folded.
Her hair is sprawled around her, and even from here, I can make out her face under the low light near her. Her mouth rests in a small smile and her eyes look glazed over as she stares at the sky, almost like she isn't there at all.
