Page 44 of Inked Hearts


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Chapter 19

Wolf

"Being afraid for someone you love is the paradox of caring deeply; it's fearing the world for them, while also wishing to be their shield against it." - Unknown

Ihad hoped that I could get some alone time with Dakota to talk to her about what she wants out of us. Or if she wants anything from me at all. Honestly, I think I just wanted to take a chance and spill my feelings for her. But when I peeked into Aiden’s room and saw her sleeping next to him, I knew my need for answers would have to wait.

Standing in the doorway, the soft glow of the TV casting gentle shadows across the room, I was struck by the peace that surrounds Dakota and Aiden. I couldn't help but stand there and watch them sleep for a moment. They look so similar, all dark hair and soft peaceful faces. I can see how much she loves him even in her sleep. It’s like her entire being seems to just relax and surround him in this maternal protection.

The realization hits me with the force of a fucking Mac truck—I want to be loved by her, to be seen and cherished in the same way she loves Aiden. I want to be on the receiving end of thatlove that seems so endless. Even if I’m broken and undeserving, I want to earn it. I want to be the one who stays and supports her, who loves her until someday maybe she can love me back.

I still feel sick to my stomach over the lie I told my friends. It felt so wrong to say that Dakota was a job. She's so much fucking more than that. But I couldn't make myself voice my feelings when I haven't even had a chance to sit down and see if she could return them. Now though, I just feel like a fucking coward. I should have screamed it from the fucking rooftops that I was obsessed with her. I should have been strong enough to admit my feelings instead of hiding like a little bitch.

Sighing I head into my room down the hall and head straight into the bathroom. I turn on the shower, let it heat up, and strip out of my clothes.

The moment that warm spray pelts down on me, it's like every damn muscle in my body finally gets the memo to relax, unwinding from a bunch of tension I hadn't even realized I was hauling around. Standing here, letting the heat seep deep, I start thinking about Dakota—how she's this unexpected shot at something...real. Something that isn’t tainted by the shit I've been through or the darkness I thought was my forever plus one.

I've been carrying around this fucking baggage, old betrayals that I let define me, shape the way I move in the world. But I realize I'm tired. Fucking exhausted, actually, of letting those ghosts dictate my now, my future. I’m letting a childhood girlfriend ruin me. Isn’t that a special kind of fucking dumb?

Dakota, though, she's like this beacon cutting through the fog of my bullshit. She's got her own set of scars, her own tales of pain, but damn if she doesn't shine despite it all. It makes me wanna believe in something better, in the possibility of anus. It's a wild thought that I could let go of that baggage, drop it right here on the tiled floor, and step into something new with her.

I've been living in the shadows for so long, letting the past grip me tight, but Dakota... she makes me want to break free from that grasp, to find love in the chaos. It’s risky and a gamble to think that she could ever love me. That I could ever be worthy of a love as genuine as hers. But hell, if there's a chance she might feel the same, might see something in me worth taking a shot on, then I'm all in.

So, as I shut off the water and the noise of the shower fades, I'm left with a resolve that feels new, feels like hope. I'm ready to let go of the past, to tear down these walls I've built, brick by bitter brick, and maybe, just maybe, let myself love and be loved in return. Dakota's under my skin, and I'm thinking it's about damn time I did something about it. It’s time that I stop being a fucking coward who lives in the past and let myself be happy.

Heading back into my room, I find myself doing something I haven't done in years, something I've avoided with a determination that's as much about self-preservation as it is about fear.

There's a small envelope, unassuming and slightly worn at the edges, tucked away in the depths of my go-bag. It’s been there since my time in the service. A memento that I never allowed myself to get rid of but I also rarely indulged in.

With hands that betray a nervousness, an emotion I rarely allow myself to feel, I retrieve the envelope. My fingers, usually so steady and sure, tremble as if they, too, recognize the weight of what I'm about to confront. The letter inside is familiar, its folds worn from the many times I've unfolded and refolded it.

I don't need to read the words to know what they say; they're etched into my heart, a constant echo of a voice I'm afraid I'll one day forget. But I read them anyway, allowing the familiar handwriting to draw me back to a time when things seemed simpler when the future was something to look forward to rather than something to dread.

7 November, 2014

Dam,

TWO WEEKS. In two weeks I’ll be flying down to Texas and we will finally be meeting. I can’t believe our parents agreed. I can’t believe they still talk all the time. It's so weird, my dad is like best friends with yours.

But who cares!

Because in two freaking weeks, I get to meet my boyfriend and hug him and kiss him and spend a whole week with you. It doesn’t seem real. And I can’t freaking wait.

Love you,

Your Little Sunshine

Each word, each sentence, is a testament to a love that was raw and real. And it was…real for me. I think that whatever happened to make her go away, it was real for her as well. But as I sit there, the letter in my hands and a heart heavy with what-ifs, I'm reminded of the harsh truth that sometimes love isn't enough. That sometimes, life demands sacrifices we're not ready to make. The letter, for all its promises of forever, is a ghost of what could have been. It’s simply a reminder now of something that will never actually come to be.

I don’t know why she never showed up or why I wasn't enough. Forgiveness, I realize, isn't about her, it’s not for the woman who left a void in my heart. It's a gift I can give myself, a liberation from the chains of resentment and regret that have tethered me to a past I can't change. The ghost that has haunted me, that has lingered in every moment of my joy and sorrow, nolonger holds the power it once did. It's time to release her, to release me, from the grip of what was.

I can let go of the woman…the ghost who has been haunting me for years. Because I deserve to find happiness. It’s time to let go of the past and move forward.

And I want to do that with Dakota.

Dakota, with her resilience and quiet strength, represents a new beginning. She is my path forward, a promise of shared dreams and unconditional love and friendship. In her, I see more than just the potential for love, but for a partnership built on the foundations of trust, respect, and shared growth. It's with her that I want to explore the depths of what it means to truly connect with another person, to share not just the burdens of our pasts but the fucking hopes of our future.

So, as I let go of the woman, the ghost of my past, I do so with gratitude for the lessons learned, for the strength garnered from the pain. She may have been a big part of why I felt so closed off from the chance at love…but she's also the one who taught me to grasp it and hold it close while I fucking can.

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