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And it’s there on the dance floor, amid balloons and ball gowns, that I have my first full-fledged asthma attack.
“You were unsure which pain is worse: the shock of what happened, or the ache for what never will.”
—SIMON VAN BOOY, EVERYTHING BEAUTIFUL BEGAN AFTER
24
FIRST MOVE
BRANT, AGE 24
She hugs me from behind as I wash the dishes.
Lilac and ambrosia waft around me when her arms encircle my midsection, linking in front of my chest. She presses her cheek into the arc of my back and lets out a heavy sigh that warms my skin through the thin layer of cotton.
There’s nothing unusual about this hug. Nothing off. June always hugs me like this, and I’ve come to expect these hugs over the years—crave them, even.
But it’s different now. Everything is different.
I drop a plate.
The white porcelain slips from my grip the moment she gives me a light squeeze, and while I try to catch it, try to keep my hold on it, I try too hard.
It falls harder than it would have if I’d just gracefully let it go.
Glass splinters into three jagged pieces at the bottom of the sink, causing June to jump back.
I swallow, my jaw clenching.
A weighty pause fills the air as my fingers curl around the edge of the countertop.
“Sorry,” she whispers, fracturing the thick silence.
I turn to look at her. Her eyes are wide and glistening, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. She stands only a foot away, wringing her hands together as she gazes up at me. Apology, longing, and grief tangle together, each one holding a different meaning for both of us.
My eyes pan to the floor as Samantha enters the kitchen.
“What happened? I heard a crash.” Dark circles and a hollow blue stare fix on me, then on June. “Did something break?”
Her question hangs heavy between the three of us. June visibly flinches.
Pressing forward on the edge of the counter, I close my eyes.
Something broke.
Something broke twelve days ago when I bolted from that god-awful dance with blood pouring from my nose, the memory of June’s tongue still wet and hungry in my mouth and her delicious moans vibrating my skin. I booked it with tears biting at my eyes as Theo’s murderous threats still lingered in the air, his enraged fists causing my busted face to throb and tingle.
I told everyone that I’d slipped…
…and I suppose it wasn’t a lie.
I slipped.
Slipped up.
Slipped into a dark, deadly void I may never be able to climb my way out of.
I lost my footing in the worst way, and it’s the kind of fall you don’t ever recover from.
