always loved you

chapter six

t a i l o r

After a breakup, most girls do something drastic with their hair or get a nose piercing. They do something they haven't done in a long time, like go out with her friends or go to a party. As for me, I let myself dive right into the wonderful world of classic novels and lose myself in them.

From Elizabeth Bennet to Catherine Earnshaw, I thought they were the strongest women to exist. They fell for men that didn't want to be, and thus, their hearts found a new meaning of life. I sometimes compare myself to them to have the same feeling of self-worth and confidence. This time...this is different.

No book, no song, no crazy nostalgic memory...

It felt like the entire world was going to collapse on me. My legs went numb, my fingers were shaky, and my breathing got heavy. Kieran Irwin did not just come out of complete nowhere and start talking to me...and we certainly did not argue in the middle of the airport parking garage.

I want to run and hide, forget the whole thing even happened and scream. Scream and let the whole world hear me and my broken heart. God, I want to scream. I want to scream so loud that my vocal cords explode.

Who did he think he was? Showing up like that and thinking he's all that? The first conversation we've had in months and that is what he wants to discuss? Marcus? The expression on his face when I looked at him gave me memories I had forgotten existed. His green eyes were so pale, I wonder if he's sleeping alright.

I know I haven't been. Sleep has become an elusive companion since our breakup. I spend nights tossing and turning, haunted by what-ifs and could-have-beens. When I do manage to drift off, I dream of him. It's always the same dream: we're at the beach, the one we used to go to that summer. The sun is setting, casting a warm golden glow over everything. He's holding my hand, and for a moment, everything feels perfect. But then I wake up, and reality crashes back in, leaving a hollow ache in my chest.

Seeing him today was like ripping open a wound I thought had started to heal. His voice, his presence, everything about him brought back a flood of emotions I've been trying so hard to suppress. I could still smell his cologne, that familiar mix of cedarwood and something uniquely him. It made my heart clench and my stomach twist in knots.

I tried to hold it together, tried to act like seeing him didn't affect me. But the truth is, it did. It shattered the fragile calm I had built around myself. The way he looked at me, with those green eyes that once held so much love and warmth, now filled with something I couldn't quite place, it broke me all over again.

I could feel the eyes of people around us, sensing the tension, probably wondering what was going on. But in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of us, standing in the middle of the parking garage, our unresolved issues hanging heavy in the air.

I wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt me, how difficult it has been to move on. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, all I could do was stare at him, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts, none of which made it past my lips.

When he mentioned Marcus, I could barely contain my frustration. Marcus was a good friend, but right now, I didn't need his help or Kieran's protectiveness. I needed clarity, closure, something to help me make sense of this chaos. But all Kieran did was reignite the confusion and pain that had been simmering beneath the surface.

As I stormed off, I couldn't help but feel a mix of anger and longing. Anger at him for coming back into my life like a whirlwind, stirring up all these emotions, and longing for the days when things were simpler, when we were happy together.

When I found the group, I told one of the teachers I needed the restroom...which wasn't a total complete lie...but I needed the space to think.

Rushing to the bathroom, I stand over the sink and splashed cold water on my face. I gazed up to look at my reflection in the mirror, and my eyes only showed distress. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over, and if you looked closely, you could almost see my soul shattering.