Page 28 of The Lucky One

I flipped on the lights and gasped. I hadn’t been down here since I’d gathered the last of my stuff. Now, piles of clothes and empty bottles lay scattered everywhere I looked. And there were even more posters on the walls than before. Where it used to say Babycakes with my sun like an over-easy egg, there was now a poster of wind turbines. I bit my lip. It was good that he’d erased traces of me in his room, I reminded myself. He was moving on, like I was trying to myself.

I had to know how much moving on he had done already. I stepped through the clutter and carefully peeled the tape off one corner of the poster. I squealed when the tape came off.

Behind the poster was a hole in the wall in the shape of a fist.

Below it were the faint outlines of the word Babycakes.

My hands went to my mouth. I wasn’t that I was scared of him—more that I was terrified of my blindness. Seeing the state of his room, I felt like even more of a jerk. I knew he’d punched the walls, but not with such force that it actually left holes in them. I quickly pressed the tape back onto the wall and sprinted up the stairs, not caring about the charger anymore.

I slipped back into the warmth of my covers, thoughts racing. Paul needed me. Maybe not as a lover, but at least as a friend. I’d been so self-absorbed, I’d ignored the signs. He couldn’t even find comfort in his own home with his own family because I was here, causing him so much pain. And I’d begged his parents if I could stay without even asking him...

I reached for my black book and began to write. It was the next-best thing to calling Jon.

The fairy-tale ending is history

But the sorrow lingers,

Just like the beating of my heart

When I hear your name.

I don’t have to unlove you to get over you,

For not to love youis a pulse without blood.

Search for beauty in the darkness,

I can feel it, so close.

But beware, the princess lies sleeping with dormant curse.

Will you walk my dreams again?

I scratched out the last line, placed the notebook on my stomach and gazed up at the ceiling.

“I’ve been a self-absorbed bitch,” I whispered.

And finally, I allowed sleep to claim me.

I dreamed about a life where I hadn’t pushed Paul away, where he still had a special place in my heart—just in a different area. And in the dream, we finally hugged without my chest ripping apart from guilt. It was quiet, peaceful.

It was too good to be true.

One Hell of a Morning

Paul

My head pounded and my throat ached for water. Opening my eyes, I found a glassful on the nightstand with a note: Thought you’d be thirsty when you woke up.

I heaved myself up to a sitting position and looked around. I didn’t even remember falling asleep in here. The room was filled with soft morning light, and the sweet scent of vanilla candles was a pleasant change from the sour funk of my bedroom. I rubbed my eyes. Kiki lay curled on the floor, black hair strewn across the carpet, plush dog in her arms.

I groaned. She was sleeping on the freaking ground while I was spread like a sea star on her bed. I gulped down the water and checked the time: 6:40am.

Quietly, I got out of her bed and shook her shoulder. “Kiki, wake up.”

She stirred and mumbled something incoherent.

I smiled apologetically. “Sorry for taking up the whole bed. You ended up on the floor.”