Page 26 of Never Enough
I sit there, on the chilled tile, willing my heart rate to slow. One beat. Then another. Each one echoes, a reminder I’m still here, still fighting.
Minutes pass. Maybe hours. Eventually, the tightness eases.
My breath steadies.
I can stand without the world spinning.
I splash cold water on my face, blotting away the evidence with a rough hand towel. Can’t let Alex see. He doesn’t need this. He has enough to deal with.
“Easy, girlfriend,” I repeat to my reflection—a silent vow.
When I step out of the bathroom, I wear a smile. It doesn’t quite reach my eyes, but it’s all I have.
“Everything okay?” Alex calls from the kitchen, his voice laced with concern.
“Fine,” I fib, settling onto the couch. “Just needed a minute.”
He nods and accepts it without question. Later, he returns with snacks, and we fall into an easy rhythm. The words are light between us. However, inside, my heart still trembles, holding onto the secret weight of my trauma. After our show ends and we say goodbye, I stalk down the stairs to my suite.
I can’t help it. I need to see the letter Mom sent me.
But when I get there, I am incapable of opening it. So, I hide it away in a stack of books in my room.
After all, if I ignore it, it doesn’t exist, right?
Chapter ten
Alex
My sister Victoria has never been a fan of Daphne, but oddly enough, it was Vic who informed me I was being an asshat about the whole Daphne’s birthday thing.
Well, she didn’t consciously tell me that word for word, on account of Vic remaining unaware I’m dating her biggest rival, but she did in a roundabout way enlighten me without her knowledge.
Vic knows Celeste and I aren’t together anymore, and surprisingly, she’s been cool about it. Plus, to my amazement, Vic and I were meeting for lunch a few days ago, when she told me her stories of past breakups. I don’t know, I think she did it to support me through the breakup with her best friend. Either way, she recounted this one woman she dated for three months. Vic said they’d been perfect together. Which surprised the hell out of me because she mentioned the lady’s name as Honey, and I sure as fuck would have remembered a name like that, but I digress. They ultimately split because Honey had forgotten her birthday.
Apparently, Honey tried to pretend that she hadn’t forgotten, but it was obvious she had. Vic said any kind of gesture would have satisfied her, but no alternative could have made up for Honey’s lack of investment.
So, yeah. Oddly enough, my sister, who is oblivious to me dating her sworn enemy, convinced me to show Daphne I care.
Hence why I’m at the gym, deciding what type of date to take Daphne on for her birthday. Plus, you know, chasing the darkness away.
The bar is heavy, making my arms shake. I push it up and breathe out hard. Metal clinks back on the rack as perspiration drips into my eyes, stinging them.
I wipe my face with a rough towel and toss it. Next, I grab the bar again. Lift. Lower. Repeat.
It’s just me, my thoughts, and the weights. The gym echoes with grunts and the thud of dumbbells. Each rep, each drop of sweat, is a fight against the grayness in my head. Depression is a shadow that clings tight.
The Greek philosopher Epicurus had it figured out, didn’t he? Death means naught because we won’t be around to care.
Simple, though I wish I felt that way. Just switch off the thoughts about what comes after, about if any of this—sweat, pain, life—matters. Nothing to fear.
If only it were that easy. It’ll never be enough for me.
Rubber, disinfectant, and body odor mix. They keep me here, at this very moment, alive. But as always, they’re fleeting. Completely temporary, like everything else.
Racking the weights onto the barbell, the iron clangs. Now that my hands are free, I grab my phone. It’s been my connection to her for the past two days.
Me: