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29. Lincoln
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Always 30. Bryanna
"What the fuck do you mean?" I ask him. The nagging feeling at the back of my head tells me I maybe have an idea of what he meant, but my heart refuses to acknowledge it. No, he can't be talking about that ....That ....He can't.No, no, no. Not now, not ever.No! He can't be talking about that ... night.My heart constricts. Fuck. Yes, I adored him once, when I was a young, naive teenager.There, I said it. I adored him when all I saw was the nerdy and kind guy, who silently stole my heart with his dark glances, secret smiles, and attentions he gave me behind my brother's back. I adored him enough to make him the one I lost my virginity to. I adored him enough to give him a thing so precious on the night of my eighteenth birthday.That night, he whispered me sweet nothings, he promised me anything.And, yes, he then left me, diappeared into the thin night air, never to be heard, or seen again. He left me alone, used, with a bleeding sheet and—not so surprisingly—a bleeding heart.
Always 31. Bryanna
For days I kept myself busy; with work—two days away from the office were more than enough and Remi's still riding my butt about it—and getting lost in Nate. Despite—or should I say because of—the warning, I seek him when, and to, get off. Yeah, you know ....At day two of waiting in the studio, he begrudgingly handed over the key to his apartment. He said it was easier and less distracting that way. I said I loved it this way.How could I not? I got an address and a key to my boyfriend's cave at this early stage of our relationship! It was, like, a secret declaration or something. It showed how much he loved me. Don't you think? That was sooooooo sweet I made sure his grudge was out of his system with another bathroom break. You know what I mean. Wink. So, my days for the past four were like, work, Nate's apartment, and my apartment—only to change, then back at his again. Wash, rinse, repeat. The hustle and bustle of going to and fro those places keeps me occupied that I didn't h
Always 32. Bryanna
Awkward. This is so fucking awkward. I arrived to my mother's bright smile and my father's tight hug. I know I don't have another option beside to meet them when I come, but I don't think I will come to ... this. They greets me like nothing had happened, like I wasn't the worst daughter on the planet. Like I didn't do something that hurt them. Especially mom. That's why, I think, that's why I can't act the same. My smile is crooked and forced. My hug wasn't as tight. They clearly want to play it cool, like anything I did didn't matter, but I can't .... The guilt resurfaces. Shit. "You look good, Baby Girl." "Thanks, Daddy." "You must be very busy, Sweetie." Fuck. "Yes, uhm ... yes. I was. I-I still am." "We ... missed you," says Mom with a sad curves of her lips. Double fuck. I can't. I just ... can't. "Uhm, yeah. Me ... me too." I clear my throat. I look around. I try to find an escape. I have to get out of here. "Oh, there she is! I guess I have to congratulate the brid
Always 33. Bryanna
I can't believe I said those words. I can't believe I said them in the first place. And, more, I can't believe I said them after a quicky in the bathroom!But, what the hell, right? The important matter is I. Said. Those. Words. I told Nate I loved him. Aaargh. He may not say it back, yet, but he will. I have it on good authority—as known as my gut—that Nate's feeling is the same. He just ... needed more time to admit it to himself, let alone me. I can live with that. Guys always have difficulties on professing their feelings, right?So, yes, of course he will say it back to me. And I can't wait to hear it. Eeeeek! My, oh, my, how I miss my boyfriend.After our bathroom encounter, Nate insisted I went back to my apartment because in the off chance he couldn't make it back to his as he have to finish the recording stuff. I half heartedly agreed with him and sulked the whole time I Lyfted back to the Central Park Tower. But, turned out, it was a blessing in disguised. Because the
Always 34. Bryanna
"You know," he continues, still folding, his back is still on me. "I like you. I do. Because you were always there when I needed someone to listen to me, or when I wanted to just be. I like it because you can be, like, my ego booster." He turns and winks. "And ... I really like the sex. Man, they were really really good." He grabs the folded shirts and puts them in the black duffel bag. "I think I'm gonna miss that when I'm gone."He then starts folding his pants. "But," he pauses and shakes his head. "Nah, I'm going to be in LA, for God's sake. How hard can it be to find pu—. Sorry. Never mind." Nate chuckles, again, then shakes his head, again. "Man." He sighs. "Can't wait to be there and start living the dream."Nate keeps doing what he's doing; gathering his things and stuffing them into another duffel—this one is faded dark blue-grey with a cheap brand emblem on it—when the other one is full. And, he keeps talking. "Seriously, though. Maybe I'm going to miss you, after all. I wi
Always 35. Bryanna
"No, you didn't mean that!" "The hell I didn't!" "Nate!" He cusses under his breath and shakes his head. "Fuck it. I'm leaving." No! He can't leave. "Nate, please." He begins to walk. "Please, Nate, please. Please, please, please." He takes a step back and moves his hand away before I'm able to hold it. But, at least, the movement makes him stop on his track. I step in front of the love of my life, putting my body between him and the door as a barrier; barricading him from leaving me. "Nate, I love you so much. Please." I try to reach out for his hand again. He dodges, again. "Nate, please. I need you. I love you. I can go with you. We ... I ... I can—" "Which part of I don't love you that you don't get, huh? I don't love you! I loved fucking you but I don't fucking love you. You see the difference?You get that now? Huh? YOU GET THAT?" I'm .... Silent. Everything falls into a deafening silence; except for Nate's heavy breathing, and my restrained cry. I don't know why I s
Always 36. Bryanna
Something somewhere is startling me, waking me up. I can't figure out my whereabout. I can't remember the last thing I did. Where am I? Until at last my skin picks up the feeling of the hard and cold surface beneath me. So my best bet is I'm on the floor. That must be why, after I gain more consciousness, I'm feeling like my limbs are made of wood, looking at how stiff they are.I sit up so, so, so slowly and groggily. The world starts to spin a little. Damn. My head hurts something fierce.Damn it. Everything hurts. Why? I try to lift my lids, to open my eyes, but it's like someone had glued them together. My eyeballs keeps rolling behind my lids. I feel them shaking. But, they won't budge. It sure is a highly challenging task to do.After some real efforts, in the end, I succeed. From behind my half closed eyes, I see the room I'm in is pretty dark, the only light is from the bulb on the corridor outside that filters in and gives my tired hazels a chance to recognize my surround
Always 37. Bryanna
It has been three weeks since the last time I saw Nate. No. To be more precise, it has been three weeks and five hours since the day he walked out of his apartment, walked out of my life. It has been three weeks and five hours of me trying to get up every morning and feel okay instead of feeling like a walking corpse. Numb. It has been three weeks and five hours of me faking smiles in front of the world, enchanting those clients with my power suits and bravado only to be a messy, pathetic, and heartbroken girl behind my apartment's door. It has been three weeks and five hours of me calling Nate's number to no avail. I really meant nothing to him. It hurts. It hurts like hell to acknowledge this fact even though my mind have been repeating it again and again and again. It hurts to acknowledge it. And to accept it? It's another story all together. It is like I'm dying a painful death. Hanging from the ceiling, both of my hands tied at the wrists, and someone sliced my skin just dee
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