Reckless Abandon (November Blue, #2)(72)

...” I shake my head as he grabs my hands.

“I need to do this alone, November. It’s going to be ugly and painful. The past two months have made both of us sick.” He slides

his hands down my ribs and grips my bony hips. “I can’t pull you down any further, but I can’t help you right now either. God, I

wish I could.” Waves of tears crash through his eyes.

“No...Bo ...” I tighten my hands on his. “Please don’t do this. Last night—”

“Last night shouldn’t have happened, Ember. I wasn’t thinking. I just needed you. I’m sorry.” He shakes free from my hands and

places his back on the counter. He looks away.

“I don’t want to leave you here alone.” I slide my hands into my back pockets.

His voice cracks. “I’ll be fine, Ember. I’m going to spend some time with the therapist that helped me and Rae when our parents

died. I just need space from everything right now. If we get our chance again, I want it to be when we’re both healthy and ready.

”

If? Again?

Shit. He’s absolutely right and it kills me. We’re a disaster right now—apart and together—and I have no rebuttal.

“I’ll get my things.” I turn and make my way upstairs to collect my clothes and backpack, and head back down the stairs, where I

find Bo waiting by my car.

“I’ll call you when I’m ready. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but...I just need ...” He runs his hand over his face, sweeping

away tears.

“No, I get it. You’re right. Can I say one thing?” He nods as I open my door. “I’m really sorry. About absolutely everything.

” A sob chokes out anything else I planned on saying and he nods, pulling me into a mournful embrace.

“I’m sorry, too.” Bo smoothes his hand over the back of my hair and kisses the top of my head. He takes my face in his hands one

more time. The pain in his eyes is unbearable. “I love you.”

I nod through tears pouring down my face. “I love you, too. I never stopped.”

It’s too much for both of us. Bo releases my face and walks back to his house, face in hands. I collapse into my car and sob for

half an hour before I’m able to start my car and drive home.





Chapter Thirty-Three



My breath floats in puffy clouds by my chin, as I anchor myself in a full headstand in the cold, damp sand at sunrise. The mid-

October beach is empty as I breathe through the blood rushing to my head. My once-bony shoulders are now able to support all the

physical and emotional weight I throw their way.

It’s been three months.

Three months without his voice, his touch, his presence. And, I’m OK. I wasn’t. But I am now. I cried for a week straight after I

left Bo’s house that day. Monica was at a loss for words for the first time in our friendship. I missed Bo instantly. We’d just

made love for the first time in two months and, just like that, it was all gone.

Bo was right—we were a mess. The day after I got home from Concord, I took a good long look at myself in the mirror and didn’t

recognize the girl looking back at me. My green eyes were mossy with grief, stress, and malnutrition, and my body followed suit.

Bones in my chest and hips begged warmth from a layer of fat that disappeared sometime when I wasn’t paying attention. I started

yoga immediately—the only form of prayer I’ve ever been familiar with.

The first few days I headed to the beach to practice, I ended up in a ball in the sand for an hour, my salty tears mixing with the

waves. I cried because I bailed on him in May, for reasons I have yet to understand—fear is the only one I’ve come up with. I

cried over losing Rae. I loved her like a sister, and she was someone’s sister. Once I made it into a headstand, I cried some

more. Then, I started to heal.

Three months without Rachel. It seems like much longer somehow.

I stay in the headstand a bit longer, letting Rachel wash over me. I’m so, so sad that she’s gone, but it doesn’t have to take

me out. I can feel sadness and be OK.

Slowly bending my legs and folding into child’s pose, I ready myself for flower shopping with Monica. Shortly after Rae’s

funeral, she tenderly asked if I was still “up” for being her maid of honor. I hugged her, and then smacked her for asking. I can

’t wait for their wedding; it’s only three weeks away.

“You’ve got one hell of a headstand, Harris.” Monica pleasantly disrupts the last moment of Zen I’ll have for the next twelve

hours.

“Thanks. Feel free to join me any time.”

She ignores my invitation. “When are you going to take these sessions inside? It’s cold as hell out here.”

I look around and breathe in the freshest air anyone could ever breathe. “When the snow falls, I guess.” I stand and we walk to

the parking lot.

“Your arms are looking fierce, Ember. I haven’t seen you look this good since you were twenty.” Monica playfully grabs my tight

upper arms. “Are you singing at Delta Blue tonight?”