Broken Promises

34 | blake

I inhale the crisp night air, still feeling like I can't breathe at all. The darkness of the night sky envelops me like some sort of hug, though I feel anything but safe. I stare out at the lake in front of me in some sort of daze, studying the reflection of the full moon's light refracting against the inky rippling water, making the sliver shine of the moon appear as liquid mercury, dancing atop the water's surface.

I've always loved visiting the town's lake whenever I need to think, but I haven't been to this spot in a while. Even in the dead of night, the place is haunted with memories of sunshine and picnics, laughs and smiles, plaid blankets on green grass, my hand in Mason's, sweet kisses and lazy afternoons. I can't escape him, and returning to our old spot only seems to make the memories I have of him more vivid.

I find myself thinking of the first time Mason and I kissed by this very lake, the memory making me feel warm inside. But when I close my eyes, I recall Mason's hands harshly grabbing my skin, panic rising in my chest as Mason presses me up against a wall and touches me in ways I don't want him to.

I've been through so much with him, and emotion flows through me as I remember things I wish I could forget. All of the fun and happy times I shared with Mason come back to mind. I used to think he was the man I would marry. I remember how shattered and broken I felt after he hurt me the first few times, how heartbroken and alone I'd felt after breaking up with him. I feel the annoyance and confusion Mason brings along whenever he tries to make small talk with me in the hallways at school. Worst of all, I feel the fear and helplessness I'd experienced less than an hour ago, when Mason was drunk and cornered me at the party.

I hear footsteps approaching, though I don't turn to look at the figure coming closer. I feel numb, shaken, exhausted. I can't even pretend to be okay right now; don't want to bother trying to fake a smile. I need to learn that it's okay to allow myself to not be okay. When I hurt, I tend to try and bury my pain in fake smiles and reassuring others that I'm fine. But right now, I let myself hurt. I let myself feel the pain while it's still raw, wallowing in it. Sometimes you have to sink a little before you can swim.

Noah Reed stands next to me. He doesn't say anything, though I can feel his eyes studying me, as if trying to sense what I'm thinking. I want to tell him that he doesn't have to say anything, that just his presence is enough. Around him, I feel warm and safe, despite what happened tonight.

I pull the jacket Noah gave me around my shoulders a little tighter, pretending it's Noah's arms instead. For a moment, the brief memory of how it felt to kiss him runs through my mind, though I know now is not the time to talk about that with him, much less think of it. One day, we'll work things out between us. Tonight, I'm simply not in the mood to talk about much at all.

"Blake," Noah whispers my name. I can sense his hesitance to touch me after what's happened. I want to tell him that I want him to wrap me in his protective embrace more than anything; that I want his touch to drown out the feeling of Mason's. I just can't seem to find it in me to say the words.