“As I was saying, my mom told me that a woman never truly wants space. She said when a woman says she wants space, it’s a way to tell us that we need to fix it. So quit beinga fucking dumbass and make her talk to you. It’s been almost three months since the breakup, and you two are still dancing around each other like children. You’re being pathetic right now,” Marcus huffs, raising his brow at me.
My anger rises, not at him but at myself. I’ve let these months pass me by, almost letting her slip through my fingers forever. I listen to the tinkering in the kitchen—the cooks preparing the last of the dishes before it becomes alcohol only for the night, the dishwasher finishing its last cycle—and stare at the rings on my finger, methodically twisting my favorite one as I attempt to gather my scattered thoughts.
I mumble sarcastically, “Tell me how you really feel.”
“Okay, I will. You’re being a little bitch. You let the love of your life go, for what? A miscommunication? A fight you two couldn’t control? I wouldn’t know because neither of you two idiots have spoken much about it. Maybe we’re bad friends and didn’t push as much as we should have, but this is enough. Man up, figure your shit out, and get your girl back. Before it’s too late and you’re actually stuck watching her date other guys—hell, maybe even marry one.”
His words hit me like a final blow to the chest.
I picture what it would be like someday—having to watch Avery with someone else, holding their hand in the parking lot and buckling her into their car drunk, waking up on lazy Sundays and staying in bed together the whole day instead of getting up. The haze of the past few weeks starts to clear from my mind.
I’ve been walking around these past months in a fog, letting my anxiety and baggage cloud up my feelings. I’ve never stopped loving her. I don’t think I could, even if my heart was ripped out of my chest. My soul is hers. It has been since she smiled at me—hook, line and sinker. I think ithas been hers longer than it was ever my own. The girl who found this broken boy and gave him purpose, a home for the first time in his life.
I’ve never given much thought to what comes next—heaven or hell. If some divine god judges us based on the lives we’ve lived and determines where we go next. But I do know I’ll go wherever she goes—gods be damned. In this life and whatever comes next, she’s it for me. I’d strike whatever deal, make any bargain to go with her.
I’ve let her think she’s less than that, and today is the last day she doesn’t know my world begins and ends with her.
I’ve never put much faith in divinity, but I would give my life to worship the ground she walked on if she gave me another chance to get this right.
I stand quickly, wiping my hands on my jeans, my palms sweating as the anxiety spirals during this conversation. Marcus follows suit, and I turn to him, trying to gather all the thoughts jumping out to me at once.
“Look, there’s a lot I haven’t told you guys, even Avery. But I think I owe it to her to tell her first. I would really like to come talk to you later on,” I say, reaching back to the table where we keep our possessions during shifts for my keys. The cold metal hitting my palm fuels me further.
Marcus slaps my shoulder and grips it, looking right at me, acknowledging that a light bulb has finally gone off in my head.
“We all know you have been going through something, even before this. We got your back. Go get your girl. We will talk later.” He stares into my eyes, imploring me to hear him. I nod and hold eye contact for a moment before I break off, heading to the door.
My steps pick up the closer I get to my truck. I throw thedoor open and jump inside. The sleek black interior is swallowed up by the night, with soft music filling the cab after I finally got it fixed last night.
The sky pounds with relentless rain, thick sheets blocking my windshield. I drive slower than I want to through the streets between Avery and me. I let my mind try to focus on what I need to say to her, what Ineedher to hear. The outside blurs in time with my thoughts, making the drive feel quicker than it is.
When I finally pull up to her curb, I turn the car off and sit back to take a few breaths. I tell the panic to subside and do my breathing technique—I look around for five things I can see, remind myself of four things I can smell, let myself feel three things I can touch, and ground myself in the moment.
I steel my spine as I jump out of the car, quickly slam the door behind me, and rush to the house. The floodgates opened up earlier, and it seems someone upstairs is hell-bent on punishing me for these last few months.
I welcome the rain, the bite of the cold against my cheeks, as I stare at her front door. The rain soaks through my clothes, chilling me to the bone when I bang on her door. The strands of my hair are already soaked and dripping down my face as I wait for her to answer. Seconds tick by and I feel my confidence weaken.
What if she no longer wants anything to do with me? What if I really fucked it all up by crossing the line tonight?
I pound on the door a second time, my rings clanking against the wood. Just as I’m about to give up and head back to my truck to regroup, the door opens.
A small crack in the door, and there she is—hair wet from the rain or shower, my old high school shirt and those tiny fucking shorts on her. Her face is in shock, eitherbecause I’m standing here, because of the state I’m in, or because I’m soaked and dripping on her porch late at night. Her arms cross over her chest as I watch her build up her defenses like she tried to do tonight in the bathroom.
I push my hair back and out of my face so I can see her past the rain. Her beauty pins me to the gray night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
kane
So In Love – Icarus Account
“We need to talk, Ave,” I start, looking at her as I let the rain continue to beat down on me, if that’s what she needs to see that I’m not leaving this time.
“I think we talked enough for one night, don’t you, Kane? Or at least your dick talked. We had a good conversation, I must say,” she snarks with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
She stands in the doorway, arms crossed and hip jutted out, with a look on her face warning me to back away slowly. Still, I step closer and steel my spine.
Get the girl, Kane.
