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My breath shakes as I try to inhale, and a stray tear runs down my cheek. I swat it away and clench my jaw, swallowing hard to get a grip. I try to continue looking at myself. Just a few more seconds. A few more seconds.
I divert my eyes to the floor. An unbearable amount of shame washes over me. Against my better judgment, I open up old text messages from Chris. I know it’s going to hurt. I need to feel the hurt. I need to remind myself that it’s not real. Nothing is real.
A sad smile washes over my face as I look at the picture I sent him that he sent back to me with his name traced in the freckles on my legs. I close my eyes and remember what I felt like that day. The happiness. The peace. The calm. The safety. The love.
The love that wasn’t real.
My eyes pop open, staring back at myself once again. The sadness is there. The brokenness is there. The despair is there. But it’s the rage that fills me. It’s the anger that gives me strength.
I grab onto the counter and exhale all the fairytale thoughts I’ve been dreaming of my entire life. I close my eyes again, inhaling deeper this time. When I exhale, I try to let go. I try to move forward. For myself. For my sanity. For my heart.
“You’re here,” I whisper to myself. “You still exist. You’re here.”
I plaster a fake smile on my face as I make my way back through the office, hoping physically making myself happy will convince my insides to match. I spot Declan by the door, stuffing a donut in his face. I glance down at the ground, finding myself smiling not by force. The thought scares me, but I let it slide for just the moment. I need the relief.
His face lights up when he sees me. “You ready?”
I nod, walking over to my desk and grabbing my bag. He waits for me to leave, so we walk down the stairs together. “You think they’ll have snacks there?” he asks.
I look up and smirk at him. “You still have powdered sugar on your lips from the donut you shoved down your face, snackboy.”
He runs his tongue around his lips dramatically. “I still need lunch,” he says all bratty like.
“Don’t worry,” I patronize. “I’ll stop and get food on the way back if they don’t feed you.”
“You’ll stop?” he asks with a laugh as he pauses in front of his car and jingles his keys. “I’m driving.”
I stop walking, looking at his car for a moment. I glance over to my own vehicle a few spots away. “I’ll just drive myself. What if I need to leave?”
“What if you need to leave?” he repeats back to me like I’m crazy. “Where the fuck would you need to go? Back to the office? Because yeah, that’s where I’m going too.”
I squirm under his gaze. “I don’t know. You never know.”
He places his hand on the roof of the car next to his door. “Get in the car.”
I glance back at my car again. “It never hurts to have an escape plan where you’re concerned.”
“Get in the car, Addison.”
I stomp over to the passenger door, yanking it open and plopping down in the seat. I fold my arms over my chest in protest. My tantrum doesn’t seem to affect him as he smirks at me while starting the car. “Thatta girl.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up!”
I intentionally separate from him when we get to the library, allowing him to present the check while I mingle with some of the librarians who show me where the new wing is going to be built. We end up on opposite sides of the room when the presentation begins, but his eyes are on me the whole time.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I roll my eyes when I see Declan’s name on the screen. I read the message anyway.
Declan:Why didn’t you wear your glasses today? You’d make such a sexy librarian.
Me:If I was your librarian, I’d make you pay double in late fees.
Declan:Meet me in the stacks.
I glance up from my phone and meet his gaze. That was a mistake. I look back down to collect myself. Fuck, he needs to stop looking at me like that.
Me:I am not meeting you in the stacks.
Declan: Section D, Row 27. Be there in five minutes.
