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I’m aware that I brought this on myself, but I had no choice. Do I have a choice now? I wish she would give me a chance to . . . to what? She’ll never forgive me, and there’s nothing to rebuild. God, this hurts so fucking much. My heart feels flayed open and raw. I don’t know how to go on from here. Thinking about her rejection shreds my soul all over again. I crave something, anything, to dull this excruciating ache.
Opiates to cloud my mind, whisk me away from the fucking miserable world in which I’m living—if not forever, at least for a few minutes. Alcohol to flood my veins and completely numb my senses, so I can’t feel her rejection. So I can forget that I live in my own private hell, tortured by how much she despises me now.
The woman who owns my heart and soul can’t stand my presence. How fucked up is that?
And there’s not one fucking drug strong enough to make me forget or heal the wounds carved deep in both our hearts. Someone decided that this agony is my penance—to endure every day without her.
I wheel myself to the window overlooking the pond. There are people running out there. Unfortunately, I didn’t put my contacts in, and Ellington didn’t bring my glasses. Is Seraphina here but just ignoring me?
Watching those people running somehow calms me. It reminds me of the time when I began to walk again. And fuck if I don’t wish I could go back to those simpler times when I was recovering and Seraphina was by my side, helping me take those first shaky steps again.
Instead, I’m trapped here while she stays away. I’d give anything to rewind time and choose a different path, one that didn’t destroy us. One that could lead me back to her arms.
* * *
(Then)
Seraphina stood by my side, looking as professional and beautiful as ever. More so every day, it seemed. Everything about her captivated me now. Her big, thoughtful eyes, the way she scrunched her nose when lost in thought. I kept noticing new little details that made my heart skip a beat.
Like how she’d tuck her hair behind her ear while reviewing my chart or chew the inside of her cheek when focused on a tough exercise plan. Tiny, perfect pieces of her that caught me off guard and stole my breath every time. I found myself tuning into each subtle expression and movement. Things I wish I’d appreciated years ago but couldn’t then—she was so young and I was too busy with the band.
My feelings for her have grown so much since coming here. I couldn’t help it.
Back when I first realized I was attracted to her, I promised not to go there until she finished school and lived more. Being married to a musician ain’t easy—I saw it with my parents. They loved each other and were happy together. Though, at the same time, they fought a lot because their careers had them in different countries.
“Ready, B?” she asked as I stared at the aluminum bars in front of me.
I nodded, reaching for them.
As I gripped the bars tightly, trying to stand, I felt the warmth of Sephie’s hand on my back. It was such a simple touch, but it sent tingles racing across my skin.
My breath caught as her palm pressed more firmly, steadying me. It was as if every nerve ending was suddenly alive and attuned to her. I became hyperaware of her fingers splayed across my back, the way her thumb brushed ever so slightly at the edge of my spine.
My heart began to pound wildly even as my legs shook with effort. It was all I could do to remain focused on the task of standing and not get lost in the vortex of sensations she stirred within me. She was a live wire lighting up my every cell, awakening parts of me I thought were dormant.
I tightened my grip, feeling the cool metal bars press into my palms.
Taking a deep breath, I let go and focused on my first unsteady step. Then another.
“You’re doing it.” She clapped excitedly. “All by yourself this time.”
I managed a few more paces, my breath catching with the immense effort.
“Okay, that’s enough for today, B. Don’t overdo it,” Sephie said gently.
As I turned to walk back, I saw tears rolling silently down her cheeks. Concerned, I made my way over to her.
“What’s wrong?”
“Happy tears,” she explained, beaming up at me. “You’re doing it, B.”
Those few steps, my recovery, and everything good that had happened for the past months were all thanks to her. I doubted I could’ve done it without Sephie’s tireless support and hard work. Though it felt like a lifetime, it hadn’t been that long.
Overwhelmed with emotion, I drew her into an embrace. She wrapped her arms around me tightly, and I stroked her hair, breathing her in. When we finally pulled back, I cradled her face in my hands, gently wiping away the dampness on her cheeks with my thumbs.
Her eyes locked with mine. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to capture her lips with my own. To show her what this meant to me, what she meant to me.
Everything.
