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He chuckles in response, his confidence steadfast.
“You think that’s funny?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“Because I’m not going anywhere.”
I tsk, equal parts annoyed and turned on by his words.
“You taught me self-love, Tristan. It’s one of the many things I love–loved,” I say, correcting my slip up, “about being with you. That you saw something in me that I couldn’t in myself until you opened my eyes to it.” I can feel the intensity with which he listens to me through the phone, his eyes never leaving mine except to flick to the building quickly. For a second there, I’m pretty sure he thinks about scaling the facade to get to me. “But that’s also why I can’t take you back. Because now I know I deserve better than what you did to me.”
“You do,” he agrees, vehemently. “You fucking do. And I’ll prove to you that I’m still the person who can do that.”
I shake my head sadly. “You need to stop wasting your time.”
“It’s my time to use, Nera, I choose what I do with it. And I need to make something clear – for me, the choices are being with you or death. Because frankly a life without you in it isn’t a life worth living at all.”
He echoes my own thoughts so clearly, it’s as if he had a direct line into my mind.It’s been a fight to grasp at happiness in his absence. In comparison, it comes so easily when I’m with him.
This call was a mistake. All it did was remind me how much I love him, how much my heart yearns to forgive him even as my brain knows not to.
“Your two minutes are up, Tristan,” I say.
“One last thing before I leave you for the night. You know why I laughed when you said I’d be in the doghouse forever?” His eyes pierce mine from down below and my throat dries. “Because I’ll happily spend forever waiting for even two more minutes with you.”
???
Chapter 47
Nera
May.
As the year rolls into May and final exams approach, I focus on studying and committing myself to training. It helps keep my mind occupied so my thoughts don’t trail to Tristan.
This is the final push before the Olympics next month, so it feels like it’s do or die time. My continued focus is paying off and I’m playing better than ever. I haven’t lost a sanctioned bout in almost four months and am one of the favorites heading into the games. The French also have a couple of established international champions on their teams so I have quite a road ahead of me, but I’m feeling confident.
Because I spend my days in class or at the training facility, I barely have time to see my friends. I know they miss me and I miss them, but my schedule doesn’t have much leeway.
That’s why earlier tonight they ambushed me in the library and refused to leave until I agreed to go clubbing with them.
I’d hesitated for a good thirty minutes before finally giving in. The prospect of a fun, responsibility-free night sounded very enticing after months of heartbreak and heartache.
So, I let Bellamy dress me in a hot outfit, I sat still while Sixtine did my makeup, and I happily took the drinks Thayer poured for me. We ended up going to a new club in Geneva called Vega and overindulging in every alcohol that was served to us.
We danced and we laughed and we evaded grabby hands. As much fun as it was, as I was out there on the dancefloor, swaying my hips and giggling happily, my hair slick at my temples from the effort, I was overwhelmed by thoughts of Tristan.
My mind always finds a way to slither back to him, no matter how much fun I’m having in the moment. It’s like I can’t help but compare every experience to what it would be like if he was there.
And all I could think about was how tonight, when he was going to ring our doorbell, no one was going to answer.
How we’d never not answered before.
How he’d probably wonder where we were.
Well, good.
