There he is, standing on some mountain peak with his arms spread wide, laughing around a campfire with friends, or holding onto a hose for dear life as he puts out a blazing fire. Each image stings a little more than the last.
Bitter resentment bubbles up inside me. How could he just cut me out so easily? Why was it so simple for him to toss our connection aside when it took me years to even consider letting go?
Fingers trembling slightly from pain and anger, I type out a message before I can second-guess myself.
“Why did you throw me away so easily all those years ago?”
My thumb hovers over ‘send’ for what feels like an eternity. Then I press it, releasing years of pent-up frustration into the void between us.
As the medication pulls me deeper into its foggy embrace, I place the phone down and let my eyelids droop closed. Maybe it was the pain talking, or maybe it was the girl who used to wait for her best friend to sneak through her window, but either way, the question is out there now.
Whether or not I get an answer is anyone’s guess.
I drift off into a fitful sleep filled with half-remembered dreams and the hushed laughter that used to fill this room, a room that now feels too big and too empty without him in it.
Chapter 7Angel
The embers crackle and spit, the fire’s warm glow barely cutting through the chill that’s settled deep in my bones. Hudson’s wedding—a real-life fairy tale that no one saw coming—has wrapped up, leaving me here alone with my thoughts, staring into the flames.
I can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. All my brothers have found their forever. They’ve got someone to come home to, someone to hold them when the weight of the world gets too heavy. I thought I’d never want that, thought it’d be too hard to open myself up again.
But then Iris came back.
She’s always been the exception to every rule I ever made for myself. If there was ever a woman’s finger I’d slide a ring on, it’d be hers. I sit with that thought for a while, but it’s getting colder out here, and it’s already been a long-ass day. I should go inside and get some sleep.
My phone dings from the pocket of my dress pants, slicing through the silence like a siren’s call.
A message.
From Iris.
My heart hammers against my ribcage as I fumble with the screen, anticipation swirling in my gut. In those few moments it takes the message to load, the hope that she’s asking for me to come to her overwhelms me. I’d like to think I’d hesitate, but I know I wouldn’t. All she has to do is say the words and I’ll come running...
IRIS: Why did you throw me away all those years ago?
The words hit me harder than any backdraft I’ve ever faced. The question we’ve both been dancing around now stares me in the face, its letters flickering like the fire before me.
I didn’t throw you away.
The thought of saying it out loud stings.
I wanted you more than anything, but you left for a dream that didn’t include me.
But those aren’t words meant for texting. They’re too heavy, too loaded with years of unsaid emotions. This isn’t a conversation to be had over a screen.
My thumbs hover over the keyboard as I wrestle with how to reply. What do I say? That her leaving shattered something inside me? That I spent nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if she ever looked back?
No, too raw, too vulnerable.
Why did I throw her away?
The accusation stirs a storm inside me, and I can feel the anger building, mixing with old wounds that have never really healed. I want to lash out, to remind her that it was she who left me behind for a skyline and a dream that had no room for me.
But it isn’t that simple. There’s more to our story than blame and bitterness. The years have piled up between us, and the weight of them feels heavy in my chest. A text message won’t cut it. This conversation deserves more than digital words and misunderstood emotions. It deserves the truth, face to face, where there’s nowhere to hide.
I stand up and pour water on the fire, letting it die behind me as I decide. I’m going to her now. This ends tonight, one way or another.
The cool night air hits me as I stride towards my Jeep, each step fueling my resolve. As the engine roars to life, so does the anger inside me. She had every right to pursue her dreams, but where did that leave me? Alone and grasping at memories that turned to smoke in my hands.
The drive is a blur, each mile bringing me closer to town and closer to confrontation. My grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles white with tension. She needs to understand what she did to me when she decided that whatever we had wasn’t worth sticking around for.
I remember all those nights after she left when I’d lay awake, replaying every moment we shared, every laugh and whispered secret. I push the speed limit as my heart hammers against my ribs like it’s trying to break free from the cage of old scars and regrets.
She needs to know how much it killed me when she decided that I wasn’t good enough to be part of her life’s plan. That decision carved a hole in me that I’ve been trying to fill ever since with anything that would make me feel alive again.
But none of it worked because none of it was Iris.
Chapter 8Angel
Iround the corner to Iris’s childhood home, and her parents’ car is parked out front. A soft glow spills from the living room window. It’s late, and I’m not about to ring the doorbell, stirring up her folks.
I make my way to the side of the house, where Iris’s bedroom window sits just as I remember it. A pang of nostalgia hits me. How many times had I made this trek? Too many to count. It was our secret entrance, our escape from reality. The window never truly locked if you pushed on it just the right way. I’m lucky they never bothered to replace it.
I reach out, my fingers grazing the familiar ledge as I gently push forward and ease the window up. It glides silently, still yielding after all these years. A rush of adrenaline hits me. I’m not some lovesick teenager anymore, but here I am, about to climb through her window like I am.
I hoist myself up and over the sill, landing with a soft thud on her carpeted floor. The room is awash in moonlight, casting shadows across her sleeping form. She looks peaceful, a noticeable contrast to the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside me.
What am I doing here?
