One more shaky inhale, and I blink, lift my chin, and finally, finally look at him.
As beautiful as ever.
As lovely as ever.
As horrible as ever.
“Oh look, it’s the smallest man who ever lived.” I try not to blink.
It’s a lie. He’s huge. All-encompassing. The whole world, the whole universe.
My whole life, for a too-short time.
Bohdan angles his head, appraising, studying, before he slowly takes off his sunglasses, hanging them on the neck of his shirt.The corners of his lips pull into a slow, lazy grin. “Oh look, it’s the most beautiful girl on the planet.”
“No.” I shake my head, and I try to stand taller than I feel. “No. You don’t get to call me that.”
“I don’t?” he asks, like it’s a simple thing.
“This might have been a bad idea.” Talon presses a fist to his mouth.
“Bit awkward.” Jay nods, adjusting the chain around his neck. “But you do look beautiful, Sloan. And so do you, Tia.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Tia hisses, rolling her eyes.
I take a step forward, closer than I ever would have dared to get to him again. But my heart, this organ that I think went to sleep in some sad attempt at self-preservation blinks sleepy eyes, and it slowly wakes up, and it starts to beat again—sluggish, measured, taking its time—but entirely resuscitated because his voice was the compressions on my chest.
“No. You don’t.” I narrow my eyes, nostrils flaring. “You don’t leave the most beautiful girl in the world. You don’t turn your fucking back on her.”
I’m pointing at him now, and he takes a slow step towards me, hands finding their way into the pockets of his shorts and I’m hyper-aware of the way the material tenses against the muscles of his thighs.
“Do those two things negate the fact that she’s still the most beautiful girl in the world?” His voice drops, his words rough. “Because I don’t think they do.”
“Forgot what it was like with you two. Fireworks. Poof.” Talon mimes an explosion with his hands. “But I think this might be a more dangerous, life-limiting kind than we were used to back in college.”
Bohdan takes another deliberate step, like he might walk right up to me, might push his chest against my still-extended finger. Like maybe our skin might touch for the first time in too long.
My heart beats a bit funny at the thought, living and breathing again on his voice, not blood flow, not oxygen.
But I hear Talon’s words, and there’s a terribly sad sort of truth to them.
“Life-limiting is a good word for it,” I whisper, vision blurring at the edges, and I can barely make out anything but Bohdan’s silhouette when I turn to walk down the dock, far away from him.
I hope that turning my back on him, walking away the way he did—that it might give me some sort of terrible sense of satisfaction.
I know it won’t.
But I do it anyway. I turn to walk down the dock, to board the giant ship I’m suddenly thankful isn’t a boat, so I can be far, far away from him.
I think he might reach for me, but it doesn’t matter. It’s too late.
Sloan
Then - College
Bohdan doesn’t flinch when the needle of the tattoo gun whirs to life, dancing over the skin of his inner bicep.
I do. I hate the idea of anything hurting him.
