Trace

Chapter 59

Sweat beads form on my forehead, and I use the back of my warm arm to wipe them away. I have been cleaning Ruth's flat for over three hours now, and saying I am exhausted is a bit of an understandment. She plugged in two of the fans after the first hour of working, and graciously lent me one of her tanktops, as she, too, changed into the cooler top.

I plop down on her well-vacuumed love seat and bring the cold water to my lips, its ice cubes long melted.

"Tough work, yeah? My flat was a complete pigstye!"

I lay my neck over the arm of the seat and release an exaggerated sigh.

"I smell like a man," I whine pitifully, placing the cold glass on top of my forehead, its low temperature refreshing me.

"I smell like a hobo!" laughs Ruth as she playfully sniffs her own under arms.

Loud singing can be heard from the loft above, and Ruth giggles and rolls her eyes.

"Fin always has his earbuds in and turns his volume up way too loud. One day he'll go completely deaf," she tells me, and takes a long drink of her water.

He pounds down the steps descending from the loft with a cleaning rag over his bare shoulder.

"Oh, put on a shirt, Finley! El doesn't wanna see your moobs!"

He gives us both a look and pulls out his earbuds.

"What?"

Ruth looks at me and gives a wave of her hand in Fin's direction, "See what I mean?" she laughs.

Finley just grins and walks over to give Ruth a kiss. I watch as he begins to tickle her, and Ruth lets out a shriek.

He doesn't stop there, and Ruth's back falls into the cushions of the couch, her laughter and screams filling the apartment.

"Fin!" she howls in protest, pounding his chest, but her loud laughing provokes him even more.

I tear my gaze from the lovebirds, and bite my bottom lip to hold back tears. I really have to get a grip on myself; I can't tear up every single time I see a happy couple together. I can't keep thinking of Harry all the damn time.

But that's just it. Every little thing in life somehow jogs some form of memory of Harry. I'm sure this is what he intended to do. He wanted to ruin my life so that no matter what happened between us, I would always want to go back to him. And his plan has proven successful.

Only, he isn't there in return.

I don't know how many times my heart can literally shatter and I can feel the wind knocked out of me with a devastating pang in my chest, if there is a world record for this, I am sure I have long set it. No matter how many days go by, the truth doesn't seem true at all. It was always me running away from Harry, but now it is he running away from me.

And it tears me to fucking pieces.

My hands begin to tremble and I have to grasp the glass of water so tight my knuckles turn white. The memories of Harry plague my mind and soul- why did I have to run from him?

Sure, he had crossed the line. By God, he had far crossed it. I should be proud of myself for escaping his angry ways, his illogical and violent choices to solve problems. I had already admitted to myself that the Harry I first met was not the same Harry I was previously with.

I can hear his words in the back of my mind, but so clear in my eardums.

"Here I am, bare and in front of you without any barrier holding me back. This is me, El. The real me. Take it or leave it."