Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
She kept me sane in a way she’ll never know as I watched her grieve with the same pain I had.
But as the months went by, she started to smile again.
It made me feel worse than the day Tyler took his last breath.
She got better, when I didn’t. Every laugh, every bit of happiness made zero sense to me.
I could only cope through her sadness. I understood it; I needed it.
Does she know about the past? he asks me.
She’ll never understand, I type into the chat box, but I don’t send it.
I shake my head, remembering how I followed her everywhere after Tyler’s death. How I watched her run and that alone was enough to take my pain away. She loved him after all and felt responsible like I did. And if she could move on, so could I. But I could never move on from Addison.
Five years ago
I tell myself the only reason I’m on this train is to speak to her.
To tell her it’s not her fault and I’m the one to blame.
That’s the reason I’ve followed her, stalking her in the shadows and silently watching her as she struggles with what to do.
I tell myself that, but I don’t move. I’m struggling too.
The train comes to another stop and my grip tightens on the rail as I wait to see what she does. Where she goes, I’ll go.
I need to make sure she’s okay, that she doesn’t have the same thoughts I do. I’ll protect her.
Her hoodie is up, hiding her face as she leans against the wall of the train. Unmoving.
My body tightens, wanting to go to her. To hold her, to check on her and make sure she’s still breathing. She saw him die like I did. That changes you. There’s no way to deny it or to recover.
It will forever be with us.
CHAPTER 17
Addison
It’s funny how time moves.
It crawled along for years before and after Tyler came into my life. Each day’s only purpose was to be a box on a calendar I could cross off with a deep red marker. If I bothered to even count.
But the days with Tyler, when I was really with him? They flew by. Because time is quite like fate, it’s a bitch.
And the same thing happened with Daniel. The days were whirlwinds of moments that made me feel like everything was alright. Like it was okay to simply live in his bed and sleep in his arms. Like the selfishness of ignoring everything else was how life is supposed to go.
But the past few days without him … it’s been worse than the slowest pain. There’s a coldness that feels like it’s just below the surface of my skin. As if my blood refuses to heat. And the nights are filled with memories designed to play on my weakest moments.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My focus is shifted to the front door of my apartment as I sit cross-legged on my sofa with my laptop cradled on me. The screen’s gone black and I don’t know how long it’s been like that.
He knocks again. There’s only one person it could be. Daniel.
Every day and night since we last talked I’ve thought about him. And about what I need to do. Each text he sends is met with a short response that makes the pain in my chest grow.
I’m no longer in denial. It’s time to move on. That means moving on from everything, including Daniel. And that hurts. But it’s supposed to.
My neck is killing me from bending over the computer for hours. I have a standing desk; I should really use it, but I don’t. I spend hours a day sitting on the sofa with my computer in my lap while I Photoshop my pictures. There are at least three dozen more I want to edit and post before going out and searching for my next muse. Although I don’t know if I’ll find it here. Maybe it’s time to move on already.
My sore body aches all over when I stand, but that pain is temporary, so I don’t mind it.
Each step to the front door makes me feel like I’m running in the opposite direction from where I was going days ago. I’ve come to the only logical decision there is and I’ve never liked breaking up with anyone. The way Daniel made me feel is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Wild and crazy, I suppose. Thanks to the late night sex and not caring about anything, not even our next breath so long as our skin was touching and our desires seeking out refuge in each other.
Pausing with my hand on the doorknob, I let out a deep breath. He’ll understand. He’s probably here to do the same. This thing between us could never last.
I feel like I’m being stabbed in the heart, but the moment the door is opened, the pain dims and that other feeling, that fluttering sickness I have trouble describing takes its place. The kind of pain that I want more of, but it scares me.