Willing Captive(63)

Lies. Lies. All lies.

But this is the game we play of late.

Her face falls. And it actually looks genuine. Placing a hand on her shoulder, I squeeze. “Terah, I’m fine. Go home to your man. What are you doing tonight?”

She smiles dreamily, “It’s date night. We’re going to dinner, then out for a drink. Maybe some ice-cream or something.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. But I know better.

Walking over to her, I open my arms, and she steps into my hug. “That’s great. I bet he spoils you.”

She chuckles into my hair. “He does. He’s the best.”

We leave it at that. Anymore talk about happy relationships turns my mood to shit.

Seeing her to the door, I wave her off, and halfway down the hall, she yells out, “We’re such shitty liars. We totally need lessons!”

And I burst into laughter, loving that we do this every single time.

My sister is the best.

Making my way back inside, I pause at the fridge, and peek inside.

Hmmm.

Think I’m going to need a little more than a box of bi-carbonate soda for dinner.

Time to go to the store.





***





Exiting my local store, I carry my bag full of groceries. And seriously! How expensive are groceries? Yeesh! I almost swooned when the checkout lady gave me my total.

Balancing the full, brown paper bag on my thigh, I rearrange myself, then walk on. But the sight of something familiar stops me.

My heart skips a beat.

I see him.

His back is to me. He’s walking away from me.

No.

I don’t think. I just run.

My bag of groceries weighs me down. I throw it to the side and keep running.

No matter how fast I go, I can’t seem to catch up with him.

My hands shake and my eyes blur. I must look like a crazy person running through the street sobbing. Wiping my watery eyes with my sleeve, I look again.

He’s gone.

“Fuck!” My heart pounds and blood roars in my ears. I keep running. Through gasping and shuddering breaths, I mutter “No,” over and over again.

I search and search but there’s no sign of him. He’s gone. I kneel in the center of the sidewalk. My body slumps forward, I cover my face with my hands, and let go.

Crying in frustration.

Crying for my loss.

Arms come around my body. I’m lifted into a strong, warm bear-hug. A deep voice whispers reassuring words that I can’t hear. Or just don’t want to.

I look up into warm, brown eyes. I croak, “What the f*ck, Rock?”

His eyes become sad, and he quietly says, “Lovely Lily.” He looks around and states, “I shouldn’t be here.”

Gripping his shirt, I ask in desperation, “Is he dead? As in, really dead?”

Rock doesn’t answer for a long moment. Using his thumb, he wipes away my tears and tucks my hair behind my ear. His face is clear. It answers for me.

My heart breaks a little more.

Rock whispers, “He’s gone, sweetie.”

I still can’t accept it. “How do you know? Did they find him?”

He shakes his head. “They found bone fragments matching his in the rubble.”

My lip trembles, but I simply nod. He holds me tightly and silently. Wordlessly, we mourn together. Pulling away from him, I ask softly, “When can I see you again?”

Rock’s face plummets further.

I dip my chin, cover my eyes with one shaking hand, and cry harder. My heart is breaking even more. I’m losing them. All of them.

My first love.

My first real friends.

All the people I love and care about.

I lift my face to his and choke out, “Why?”

A single tear escapes Rock as he explains, “Because we don’t exist, babe. You can’t have imaginary friends.”

We stare into one another’s eyes. Rock begins to walk backwards.

Hyperventilating, I put a hand to my heart. I feel it crack a little more with every step he takes away from me. When he gets far enough away, he yells out, “You’ll never be alone, Lily.” He kisses his fingertips and places them on his heart. “I’ll always be watching.” Rock smiles a watery smile, and attempts to wink that cheeky wink of his, then he turns and walks out of my life.

Again.





Chapter Twenty-Two

The best place to be





Lily





If you could go back in time, what would you change?

I would change a lot about the life I was living.

I would stand up to my father. I would talk more openly to my mother. I would make friends. I would tell my sister how much I appreciate her love and support. Every. Single. Day.

I would be more outgoing and less passive. I would stand up for myself, and fight for my right to live the way I wanted to. I would take the reins on my life.

I would be brave.

It has been six months since the explosion. Six months since Nox was killed. Since he was taken from me.

You know that saying ‘time heals all wounds’? Time seems to be working against me for unknown reasons, because my wounds are still raw, gaping, and tender. But no one can see them. My heart and head are no longer separate entities. They are joined. And they work together to bully me. They both tell me the same thing.