Page 34 of Unbreakable Thread

A deep growl cuts through the air—Max’s Nova. The coffee in my stomach turns acidic, burning. My fingers dig into my sides as I clutch myself, mouth filling with saliva. I bolt to the bathroom, hip hitting the doorframe. I fall to my knees before bitter coffee splashes into porcelain, my fingers white-knuckled on the rim.

Fuck.

I rinse my mouth, then run toward the window. He’s gone. My heart shatters, but this time I did it. I left him. I just need to remind myself why.

For him. For us. For me.

You are a trigger. He deserves a life where he can forget the past, not look at it every day.

Those harsh words brand my skin.

With that, I pack my belongings and Daisy’s. I’m going to be selfish and keep her. That’s the only thing I have that belongs to us.

It’s been two miserable days without Max. When he left me on the doorstep of the cabin, I was a mess, but this time, it’s much worse. His dress shirts, cologne, toothbrush, shoes, belt, and one of his watches are in my home. To comfort myself, I pile it on the bed and dig my nose in it like Daisy is doing. God, I miss him. I called Isabella to let her know I came down with the flu. She panicked like a mother hen. She Uber Eats me some caldo de pollo from a local restaurant. Even though the chicken soup was amazing, I couldn’t keep it in.

Someone drums at the door. I groan into the pillow. I throw the covers off me. I shuffle to the door, Daisy at my heels. I get on my tiptoes to see—It’s Lana. Ugh. Another mother hen to the rescue.

The bright sun blinds my vision—Lana parades in like she always does. “I’ve called you. You haven’t picked up. Isabella said you’re sick.”

“Yes. I just want to be alone.”

She surveys the house. “Fucking no. I’m not leaving you alone.” Her hands fly up, exaggerating. “Look at this place. It looks like a coven of vampires lives here. Are you hiding Dracula here?” She yanks back the navy-blue curtains, and I flinch as sunlight floods the room, revealing dust motes dancing above piles of crumpled tissues and discarded blankets. “Lord,” she mutters, stooping to gather the pile of blankets on the floor, hooking them to her arm. My eyes water as I squint against the brightness, watching Lana rush from the living room to the kitchen, picking up the trail of Kleenex. “Where’s Max?”

An uncontrollable sob howls out of me. The pain is like a thousand stab wounds bleeding out of my chest. “I…I left him. I broke up with him.” My head falls to her shoulder, and she holds me. My body goes limp. Lana drags me onto the sofa.

“Ney, what happened? Why? Don’t you love him?”

“Yes.” I sniffle. “I do love him. That’s why I had to let him go. I’m a fucking mess. I can’t sleep. I feel like I’m in someone else’s body.” Lana pulls me off her shoulder and lays my head on her lap, wiping the tears off. “I just feel lost…like I’m losing myself,” I whisper softly. “Am I exaggerating? I don’t want to be a crybaby.”

Lana wipes her tears. “No, Rainey, you aren’t exaggerating. You have every right to feel this way. This isn’t something normal to take lightly. You have been through hell and back. I would be worried if you bounced back as if nothing had happened. You have a lot of trauma to work through. It’s going to take time.”

“Do you think I should see a therapist?”

Her cold fingers comb through my hair. “What do you think, babe? Aren’t you the one wanting to become a therapist?”

Ugh. She’s right, but I want to heal myself.

“Yes, but I’m terrified to talk about it because that means I have to relive it all.”

“I know it’s scary, and I can come with you. But you’re never going to overcome it if you keep on sweeping it under the rug. Now, was it necessary to let the man you love go?”

It was necessary. I don’t tell her about Carlos. That will make her angry. I don’t need her running to Max. I do tell her some of my reasons. Lana may not understand them. She didn’t live in my past life. She didn’t see the marks on his back that I had caused. This pain is for me to bear.

“Okay. I know I can’t understand it because you won’t tell me much, but I’m here for you. I will help you in any way you need. But please don’t push me away. Now, how about you shower, and I’ll order something to eat?”

I sigh and get myself up. I check my phone, and no missed calls or anything. Maybe he did need the breakup. “I’m not that hungry. I think I’m coming down with something, or maybe it’s the pain in my heart that has my stomach clenching.”

“It’s possible. What sounds good to try?”

“Maybe a sandwich with no mayo.”

She nods and picks up her phone. “I’ll order from the deli across the street.” She shoos me with her hands. “Go shower. I’ll find a movie.”

The hot water washes away the grime, but not the grief of my past nor the present. I step out of the shower feeling physically cleaner, but Max’s absence still hollows me out from the inside. This pain has settled in for a lifetime, making itself at home in my chest. I drag the brush through my wet hair, wincing as it catches on tangles. Each sharp tug against my scalp is almost a relief—at least this kind of hurt will eventually stop.

When I enter the living room, Lana has a eucalyptus candle burning in the center of the coffee table. A brown bag is on the sofa, with throw blankets on either side. Thank God she doesn’t have a romance movie on. Instead, she has true ghost stories playing. At least that will get my mind off him. I’ll be looking over my shoulder, hoping a ghost is not behind me, trying to possess me.

The cool sandwich feels good on my stomach, finally. I inhale the food like I haven’t eaten in days. I guess I really haven’t. I stare at the tattoo on my wrist and rub for an entirely different reason. To remember him.