Page 22 of Say You'll Stay

I nod, swallowing past the lump of emotions lodged in my throat. “I understand. I just wanted to…” My voice trails off, any words I might offer feeling wholly inadequate in the face of their pain.

An awkward silence descends, the beeping of monitors and distant chatter of hospital staff a jarring contrast to the loaded stillness between us. And then, as if summoned by the very discomfort that hangs in the air, Amethyst appears, her designer heels clicking on the linoleum floor like a mocking metronome, marking the rhythm of my own mounting unease.

“June, darling,” she purrs, placing a perfectly manicured hand on his chest in a gesture that’s both possessive and comforting, a silent declaration of her place in his life. Those cold, calculating eyes shift to me, appraising, assessing, a predator sizing up a potential threat. “Cara, what a surprise to see you here.”

I feel the heat of humiliation creeping up my neck, the implication of my presence, of the history I share with June, hanging heavy in the charged air. “I just wanted to offer my support,” I manage, the words sounding flimsy and insufficient even to my own ears.

Amethyst’s smile is tight, a mere formality stretched across her flawless features. “How kind of you.” The words are polite, but the underlying tension crackles like electricity, a silent warning to keep my distance.

I turn back to June, desperation clawing at my heart, searching for a sign of the connection we once shared, a flicker of the love that consumed us both. But he remains silent, his gaze now fixed on a point over my shoulder, a clear and cutting dismissal.

The hospital walls seem to close in around me, the air growing thin and suffocating. “I should go,” I mumble, the words bitter on my tongue, a surrender I never wanted to make. “I’m sorry for intruding.”

As I walk away, each step echoing the growing chasm between us, I feel the weight of our shattered history bearing down on me. The tears I’ve been holding back threaten to fall, but I blink them away furiously, refusing to let them be a spectacle in this place of sorrow and loss.

The dismissal lands like a physical blow, stealing the breath from my lungs and any last, desperate hope of reconciliation. It’s a scene I’ve played out in my mind countless times, a painful déjà vu of our last encounter, but the reality is so much more visceral, more soul-crushing.

With every step, I feel the distance between us growing, an uncrossable expanse filled with broken promises and unspoken goodbyes. The June I knew, the man who held my heart in his hands, now feels like a distant memory, a beautiful mirage that dissipates in the harsh light of reality.

Tears burn behind my eyes, blurring my vision, but I refuse to let them fall. Not here, not now. I’ve already shed too many tears for a man who seems content to let our love fade into the shadows of his gilded new life.

Bursting out of the hospital doors, I’m greeted by the chaotic pulse of the city, oblivious to the shattered remnants of my heart scattered on the unforgiving pavement. I hail a cab, seeking solace in the anonymity of the backseat, desperate to escape the suffocating weight of my own emotions.

I close my eyes, exhaling a shaky breath as I try to compose the fractured pieces of my heart.

This is not the ending I envisioned for us, not the future I clung to in the secret corners of my heart. But perhaps it’s the inevitable conclusion to our story, a tale of almost and could-have-beens, of two souls who orbited each other but could never quite align.

Even as I try to convince myself to let go, to sever the ties that bind me to him, I know that a part of me will always belong to June. He’s etched into my very essence, a permanent scar on my heart, a reminder of the love we shared and the dreams we dared to build.

So I carry on, a woman torn between two worlds, one foot anchored in the present while the other remains forever tethered to a past I cannot forget, no matter how hard I try to bury it beneath the weight of my new reality.

The memories rise unbidden, flickering through my mind like the reel of an old film. Stolen moments of passion, whispered promises in the dark, the searing heat of June’s touch branding my skin, marking me as his own. I can still feel the ghost of his lips on mine, the way his strong hands gripped my hips as he drove into me with a fevered urgency, consuming me, claiming me, body and soul.

The ache between my thighs is a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost, a phantom pain that throbs in time with the shattered beats of my heart. I cross my legs, pressing my thighs together in a futile attempt to ease the throbbing need, but it only serves to intensify the bittersweet ache of longing.

I know I should let him go, shed the memories of our love like a snake shedding its skin, but I cling to them still, a masochistic reminder of the happiness I once held in my grasp. June Deveaux is a drug I cannot quit, an addiction that courses through my veins, leaving me desperate and wanting.

The cab ride stretches on, the city blurring past in a haze of neon and concrete, but I’m lost in a world of my own making, trapped in the labyrinth of my memories and the ruins of my shattered heart. I don’t know how to extricate myself from the hold he has on me, how to unravel the tangled threads of our history and emerge whole on the other side.

All I know is that I love him still, with a fierce and desperate intensity that consumes me, even as it tears me apart. And somewhere deep down, in a secret, hidden place I barely dare to acknowledge, a flicker of hope still burns, a stubborn ember that refuses to be extinguished.

Maybe, just maybe, our story isn’t over yet. Maybe there’s still a chance for redemption, for forgiveness, for a love that can rise from the ashes of our shared past. But for now, I am left to navigate this new reality alone, to piece together the shattered remnants of my heart and learn to breathe again in a world without June by my side.

The cab pulls up to my building, and I step out onto the familiar sidewalk, feeling like a stranger in my own life. The journey upstairs to my apartment is a blur, my feet moving on autopilot as my mind remains mired in the events of the day.

As I close the door behind me, the silence of my empty home crashes over me like a suffocating wave. I lean back against the solid wood, finally allowing the tears to flow freely, hot rivulets of grief and anger and longing cascading down my cheeks.

I sink to the floor, my legs no longer able to support the weight of my anguish, and I let the sobs wrack my body, a primal release of all the pent-up emotions I’ve been holding inside. The pain is a living, breathing thing, clawing at my insides, tearing me apart with ruthless efficiency.

I don’t know how long I stay there, curled up on the cold, hard floor, lost in the maelstrom of my own misery. Minutes, hours, an eternity - time loses all meaning in the face of such devastating heartbreak.

But eventually, the tears subside, leaving me hollow and spent, an empty shell of the woman I once was. I drag myself up, stumbling to the bedroom on unsteady legs, and collapse onto the bed that still holds the faint scent of June’s cologne.

I burrow into the sheets, clutching his pillow to my chest like a lifeline, and let the exhaustion of my grief pull me under, into a restless, dreamless sleep. Tomorrow will come, as it always does, and I will have to face this new reality, this life without June by my side.

But for now, in the quiet stillness of my bedroom, I allow myself this moment of weakness, this brief respite from the pain that threatens to consume me whole. For now, I will cling to the memories of our love, to the bittersweet echoes of a passion that burned too bright to last.

The days tick by with a leaden weight, each one a battle against the ever-present gloom that clings to my every step. Yet, amidst the darkness, there are rare glimmers - sparks of joy that remind me I’m more than just the shattered remnants of my broken dreams.