Page 206 of The Storm

“I want you to keep it. Use it.”

I’m already shaking my head. “I can’t.”

“Yeah, you can. You love it out there, Blue. Use the key.”

“But… it’s yours.”

He waves me off. “I’ll go with you. Whenever you ask me.” He shrugs. “So keep it safe for me.”

I press my lips together and stare down at the key in my hand before I look up at him again.

Everything crumbles inside me. Years of work. All my rules. Every wall. Every boundary. It’s all swept away in a storm this stupid, stupid key unleashed in me.

I’m not over him.

Never was.

Never will be.

In a way, it’s almost a relief to finally admit it to myself. I’ve spent so much time trying to convince myself it’s over, and I’m exhausted. I’m giving up. Going down with the ship.

It will never be over for me.

He’s it for me, and I fucked it up beyond repair a long time ago.

“It’s just a key, Blue,” he says.

Only it’s not.

Somewhere in the last six years I convinced myself that surviving without him meant I had learned to live without him, but it’s not the same thing at all, is it? And I’m only now understanding the difference.

“I have to get going,” I blurt. “I have to… Work. I have work. And I’m… Thank you. For this. I haven’t… It’s been a while. I didn’t remember…” I drag my hand through my hair and let out a slightly manic sounding laugh. “Thank you. You didn’t have to. But you did.” I blow out a breath. “I really have to go.”

It’s safe to say panic has set in.

I just need to get away from him for a bit and let my emotions settle, and then I can stuff them back in the box and shut the lid tighter this time. Maybe get a better lock. Scratch that. Definitely get a better lock.

I just need some space, and I can pack all those feelings away again, nice and tidy.

“Bye.” I whirl around and hurry away.

“Blue,” he calls after me, but I wave without looking back, and I’m just grateful I manage to turn the corner and get out of sight before I start to run.

SIXTY-TWO

INDY

The slideof fingers through my hair feels so good I manage to relax for the first time since that whole domestic crap with Nick started. I close my eyes and lean into the touch.

“You want to tell me what’s wrong now?” Dylan asks.

I’m lying on his and Adrian’s couch in their new living room with my head in Dylan’s lap. It’s an upgrade from when I was lying on their couch earlier, trying to smother myself with the cushions.

I showed up on their doorstep at the crack of dawn when all the world was still sleeping. Dylan stumbled to the door, still half-asleep, squinting and staring for a long moment before he ushered me inside without a word.

“Here.” Adrian holds a plate out in front of me. “Breakfast.”

I blow out a breath and take the plate. “Thanks.”