Page 115 of Sweet Madness
“Hey Shaw… everything feels black.” — E
Chapter
Thirty-Two
CRUEL REALITY
Ella
“He’s still everything I want.”— E
How fast life changes.
Just a day ago, I was laughing with the man I love and living the life I feel in my heart I was meant to live. Now, I’m on my way back to D.C. with a broken heart and so many unanswered questions.
My eyes hurt from crying, and I actually think I’ve run out of tears. I feel the need to cry, but nothing comes out. There’s only a pain in my chest that won’t let me find my next breath.
In my family’s private plane, I look out the small window at the passing landscape of Montana. My heart feels heavy with so much sorrow.
I’ve never experienced the death of someone I love, thankfully, but at this moment, I feel like I’m grieving a love that I’m afraid I’ll never experience again. No, I’m pretty sure I’ll never love like this. Not again.
Hugging my knees, I look at the land below and think back to the tulip field, which in turn makes me remember every lively moment I spent in Canyon Creek. It makes me die a little bit more inside.
He let me go. He pushed me away to a life I no longer want—a life without him. No horse rides through tulip fields, no sunsets at the lake. No pink.
A sob breaks out, and I have to put my fist in my mouth to keep my brothers and uncle from hearing.
Huh. And I thought I had no more tears to shed. I guess I was wrong.
At first, Shaw’s indifference cut me deeper than any words could. But then he said the four little words I always dreamed he would, and he said them before he sent me away. Before he broke me by giving up so easily.
If he loved me, why would he think a life with him was not what I wanted or deserved? If he really knew me, he would see that if all I had in life was him, I would be the luckiest girl.
He was everything, but I guess he didn’t know me. Not like I thought.
The memory of our parting replays in my mind like a never-ending nightmare: Shaw’s stoic demeanor, his usual soulful brown eyes turning away, unable to meet mine as I laid my heart at his feet.
It isn’t just him pushing me away that hurts me, but the unwillingness to fight for me—for us.
Feeling tired and confused, I lean my forehead against the cool windowpane, my breath misting the glass slightly. My eyes fix on the vastness of the Montana landscape; it mirrors the vastness of my pain as I leave behind not only a place where I was the happiest but the man who showed me just how beautiful a simple and quiet life could be.
I gave him all of me, and now I’m met with nothing but this growing pain in my heart.
“Fucking idiot.” Uncle Benjamin’s voice cuts through the heavy silence inside the jet.
I’ve been so lost in my head that I forget they are here with me. Both my brothers and my uncle stay quiet all the way from the ranch to the airport and through the plane ride. I’m grateful for that. I’m in no mood to talk. Besides, I wouldn’t even know what to say.
I feel so empty.
Lifting my head, I watch as Uncle Benji leans back in his seat. He seems tired—tired and sad, which only makes me feel worse. He hates it when I cry.
I quickly dry my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater and ask softly, “What?”
“He’s a fucking idiot. All men are,” he repeats himself, his tone laced with anger and frustration. “We always come back when we realize the jewel we let slip from our hands. Trust me, little lady, my cousin will realize the error of his ways.” His eyes, which remind me so much of Shaw’s, hold reassurance. He continues, his voice carrying the weight of his conviction, “But until then, sweetheart, you hold your head up high and continue chasing your dreams.” His words are filled with love and support because that is who he is—loving and supportive, one of my biggest cheerleaders.
And although I hate the circumstances that brought him here, I’m glad to see him again.
“Keep chasing your dreams…”