Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
I set the box on the dining room table and carefully opened it. My heart was in my throat as I slid the canvas from the box.
My heart stilled in my chest for a moment as my soul cried for her. I stared at the painting in my hands.
It was a painting of me, but my face was covered by light strokes of dark paint. My eyes welled with tears. “Fuck,” I whispered. “She’s hurting so goddamn much.”
Axel stood next to me, looking down at the painting. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “She told me I wasn’t allowed to see it until you saw it. Now I see why.”
“You told me she was getting better,” I snapped, hating the helpless feeling running through my body. I couldn’t console her. I couldn’t protect her from her tormented thoughts, and I couldn’t block her from her demons.
I fucking hated it.
“She is,” he promised me, resting a hand on my shoulder. “Granted, her paintings are pretty dark still, but she’s opening up more.” He paused for a moment, contemplating his next words. “She talked to me about the baby today.”
I stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. Axel swallowed thickly. “Granted, she cried the entire time, but she believes it would have been a strong, little boy that had your dark hair and blue eyes.” He shook his head. “She named him, Julian.”
“What’s his name?” I asked hoarsely. I could feel tears burning at the back of my eyes, but I was doing my best to hold them back. I didn’t want to cry, but I knew it was going to end up happening no matter how much I fought against it.
“Oliver Liam Markos,” Axel told me, his voice rough with emotion.
Tears slid down my cheeks as I dropped into the nearest chair. I leaned forward and dropped my face into my hands. “I wish I could have been there with her,” I told him. “Fuck, man, I just walked away from her. I didn’t answer those calls that night. She fucking needed me, and I abandoned her in her time of need. All of this shit could have been avoided.”
“Look at the back,” Axel said quietly.
I picked up the painting and turned it around. There was an envelope taped to the back, and I knew this letter was going to rip my fucking soul to pieces before I even opened it.
“I’m going upstairs,” I said quietly. Axel just nodded, offering me a smile of encouragement.
Once I was on my bed, I pulled the letter from the envelope and opened it, letting my eyes run over her messy scrawl. The paper was littered with tear drops.
* * *
Julian,
These last three months have been hell.
When Vincent and Axel forced me to come here, I hated them with every fiber of my being. They were going to force me to face my problems, face my demons, and I didn’t want to—I couldn’t. I never could, which is why I focused so hard on dancing, and why I panicked so much when I was told I couldn’t dance like I used to anymore.
My first week here was dark. I kept hallucinating our baby. He was talking to me, telling me how much he hated me. He kept taunting me by telling me how much I hurt you both, and that it was my fault he died before he ever had a chance to live.
Yes, a boy. I always imagined I had a little boy with black, curly hair and beautiful, blue eyes, just like his daddy.
Dr. Gresham finally figured out a good combination of meds to stop my hallucinations. At first, the combination turned me into a zombie, so he had to adjust them some more to find the perfect combination for me to function without breaking down again.
Because that’s what I did, Julian.
I broke. I completely fell apart.
At first, I hated everyone for forcing me to stay here, for forcing me to take medication to help me, but I’m doing okay now. Some days are still really, really hard to deal with, but I’m getting better. I’m learning how to cope.
It took me almost two months to be able to say your name without wanting to scream in agony. It hurt so fucking much to know that I lost you. You always made me feel so alive, and I craved that feeling so much when we were together. It’s why I would always fall into you every time you so much as looked my way.
It was unhealthy.
I had never learned how to live on my own—really live. I had never healed from the shit that happened to me as a child. College was my escape. The only reason I truly busted my ass through school is so I wouldn’t have to return back to the hell I left behind.