by Harlow Grace
Visions of her on a crimson bathroom floor, blood trickling from her veins, flashed through my mind. My heartbeat sped up and my chest tightened so that I could hardly breathe.
Fuck me, I was going in.
Swiping the white piece of plastic with trembling hands, I heard the beep and then a green light flashed. I was in! I turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly. I didn’t want to scare her if she was sleeping, but I also didn’t want to take my sweetass time.
I stumbled into the darkness, stretching my arms out in front of me so that I wouldn’t bump into anything.
“Maya? Are you here?” My voice echoed around the room, unanswered. I reached for a bed lamp. I needed light so I could see what the fuck was going on. Fear had gripped my insides as silence swirled around me.
Her perfume permeated my nostrils—she’d been in this room only a short while ago. The light flickered to life a few seconds later. My gaze fell on the empty bed. It hadn’t been slept in at all. Fuck, no! Please don’t let my little bee be lying on the bathroom floor.
I'd never really prayed before, but now I was on speed dial to heaven. The light from the lamp was too dim to see into the bathroom. Why did they make these rooms so fucking dark? And cold. A shiver ran down my spine; I was chilled to the fucking bone.
“Maya? For fuck sake, answer me!” This wasn’t the way I planned on greeting her when I came looking for her, but right at this moment it was all I could muster not to scream her name into the darkness. Fumbling, I found a light switch and flicked it on, feeling relief when a light blinked to life. Preparing myself for the worst, I couldn’t help sucking in extra oxygen as I stared at the bathroom floor.
Empty.
No Maya.
Where the fuck was she?
Chapter Thirty-Seven — Maya
As soon as I closed the door to my hotel room, I went to the bathroom to find my trusty blades. They were always there. Waiting for me. No judgment. No pity. Cold and hard and real.
I hadn’t needed them in a long time, and I should have thrown them out a long time ago, but like an alcoholic always craving the next drink, I wanted to know I had access to my source of relief at any time I needed them.
Was it sick that while I was studying to help other people overcome their own problems I myself had a set of special blades stashed away in case? In case of what? Life sucked? Yeah, sometimes life hurt, sometimes it wasn’t fair. Sometimes we didn’t understand why something was happening to us.
But it was just life. Normal life.
And hurting was part of living as much as what happiness and joy were.
I wish I could tell that to Megan Childs. My mom didn’t have to do it, and neither did I. There was far more to live for.
Life, in spite of sometimes being fucked-up, was beautiful.
It was time to take the blades out of their special case. Slowly unwrapping the surgical steel razors, I hummed softly to myself. The blades glistened in the mirror as the light reflected off them, catching my attention and causing me look up into the mirror.
I appraised my own face as if I’d just seen it for the first time.
Astonished, I kept staring into my eyes, dulled by the intense pain in their depths. They appeared flat and dead.
Yet it wasn’t the same face staring back at me as always. This woman was different. Stronger. She knew what she wanted out of life, and it wasn’t to hurt anyone or anything she loved. Including herself.
Although the pain that came from loving someone so hard and being rejected was impossible to ignore, this wasn’t the way my life had to play out. I could choose another course. I could keep living and finding joy in other things. I could focus on my job and help other damaged souls. I had a purpose and a place in this world, even if it was without the love of my life.
Yes, Oliver had become that for me. Nobody else would do. Even when we were apart, thoughts of him consumed me. That would never change, but I could live with it. I was capable of dealing with the agony of unrequited love.
My heart was shredded—cut into a million pieces. No blade was responsible. All it took was one man not wanting me like I wanted him.
Maybe time would heal it? Dull the constant ache? Nothing could compare to how shattered I was. Losing Oliver was worse than losing my life. No amount of hurting or harming outwardly could come close to the suffering of my heart.
I placed the blade back in its wrapping and walked to the bin. I didn’t need these any longer. There’s no point. Those sharp edges could never cut as deep as Bianca’s words had.
With a wry smile, I uncurled my fingers and let go, dropping the metal pieces into the garbage where they belonged. The feeling of elation that flowed through me surpassed the despair I’d felt earlier.
Proud as fuck of myself, I rushed to pack my bags. I’d live. I’d soak up whatever life had to offer. But right this minute, I had to get as far away as possible from the cause of my bleeding heart.
Five minutes later I made my way down the elevator towards the check out desk. “Hi,” I said as brightly as I could muster to the woman behind the desk who’d booked me in a short few hours ago. “I have an emergency to tend to. I need to leave and get to the airport as soon as possible. Can I please settle my account and have a taxi pick me up?”
“Sure, Miss Childs. You’re lucky you caught me—I’m just about to go off duty. I’ll quickly finalize your account before I go.” She smiled up at me, her eyes running over my body. “By the way, I love your leather jacket. Very trendy.”
“Thanks.” The jacket was nowhere near warm enough without my coat, but it would have to do until I could get home.
“Taxis are waiting outside. Since it's a Friday night, most of our patrons go out to the popular bars around this area. Pity you couldn’t stay to enjoy Danish hospitality.”
“Yeah, pity,” I echoed, impatient to get the hell out of there. She didn’t need to know that the short while I spent at one of the lovely trendy bars in this city was one of the worst experiences of my life.”
Sliding into the back seat of the taxi, I sighed deeply.
“Where to, lady?”
“Airport please,” I said, fighting to hold back the tears. I’d come with so much hope in my heart. All my dreams had been dashed and I just wanted to get out of there.
Where to, lady? The driver’s question echoed in my mind. Where was I going?
I closed my eyes and let my mind run free. If I could be anywhere in the world right now, where would I want to be? Heck, I’d already flown all the way to Europe; a short flight to somewhere I’d always dreamed of going would be a perfect time out to heal my broken heart.
London. I'd always wanted to see the place my mother was born and raised before meeting my father and moving to California. It always lurked somewhere in the back of my mind that maybe one of the reasons she felt so blue when I was born was that she was so far away from her family. Maybe I could look up an aunt or a cousin and get to know my mother a bit better through their eyes. I'd never had real contact with them besides a few birthday cards and Christmas gifts. I smiled. Between Google and my great research skills, I'd be able to trace somebody down.
“Thanks,” I said to the driver as I reached for my purse to pay the fair. He handed my bags to me.
“Hope you find your happiness, Miss.” He said with a wide, gap-toothed grin. Was it that obvious?
“I hope so too,” I said, smiling and adding an extra tip to the fare.
At the counter, I managed to purchase a ticket to a flight that was boarding in just over an hour. Great. I'd have time to browse the news agency and grab a paperback to read. I was in the mood for something sweet and romantic to take my mind off my own situation.
“These are our best sellers—I’m sure you’ll find something in this pile,” the friendly lady said as she pointed me towards the romance section of the store.
I grinned, feeling some of the heaviness in my heart lift as I perused the stack of books. Just what I nee
ded. Since I was an avid reader, I’d need a few to help me through the next few days. I loved getting lost in a novel, taking me to other places and living through the heroine. I just hoped none of them had a life as fucked up as mine. I definitely needed a happily ever after, even if it was only in a novel.
At least I’d always have my dream. It felt so real, the way Oliver had made love to me for the first and only time. The one night that Oliver King belonged to me and said he loved me. I’d always have that; no one could take it away. And because it was a dream, not even Oliver could deny me it. Whenever I needed him, all I had to do was close my eyes and slip back into that dream.
I could relive it a million times—it was mine to keep forever.
Chapter Thirty-Eight — Oliver
My lungs burned. My head pounded.
I was alone. So fucking alone. Abandoned.
But it was so much better than the alternative.
Sinking to the bathroom floor, I let out a long, shuddering breath. At least she didn’t do what I feared most. If I absolutely had no choice—if I couldn’t have Maya in my life—I’d be gutted. But I’d rather have her alive, knowing that somewhere she was breathing.
Even if it meant I never saw her again, I'd let her go if it meant she kept breathing.
Leaning back against the bathtub, I closed my eyes for a moment.
She always had been free, only she didn’t know it. She was the one in control. Always had been. She held my heart in her hands with the power to crush it in one second.
I need to tell her. Find her and tell her.
Reaching for my phone in my pocket, I found the box I’d picked up earlier. Now was as good a time as any to open it. With trembling fingers I pulled the ribbon and took off the lid. I carefully unfolded the yellowed paper. The ink had started to fade and I narrowed my eyes to zone in on the cursive handwriting.
These rings represent the circle of life and love.
Your heart will know who the right person is to give it to.
If you are lucky enough to find the ONE, hold on to that love.
Choose wisely.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Of course I knew who the rings belonged to. Was my grandmother trying send me a message from the grave? Fuck. Was Larissa?
I had to fight for her. Man up and grow the balls to tell her the fucking God's honest truth.
There was no other way.
I’d find her even if it took every day of the rest of my life. I mean, how far could a little bee run from its hive?
I was desperate to find Maya. I closed my eyes for a moment to gather my thoughts. When I opened them a few moments later, my gaze fell on the rubbish bin. She’d left something behind.
Rising to my feet, I peeked into the bin. Blades. Shiny. Unused. She’d thrown them away. Hell, I wasn’t a psych expert, but I instinctively knew it was significant. It meant she’d let go of the need to harm herself.
Relief flooded my system. Where would little bee go after taking such a gigantic step? The airport. She’d want to get away from this place, leave her hurt behind. To start fresh—without me.
Exactly where she’d go, I had no clue. The first step was to get to the airport as fast as I could. She couldn’t be more than thirty minutes ahead of me. If there was ever a time in my life I needed luck, fate, providence—whatever the hell you wanted to call it—on my side, it was at this moment.
Pressing the button for the escalator, I tapped my foot impatiently, praying that I’d find her. As soon as the doors opened on ground floor, I stepped out and pushed through the revolving doors into the icy cold night. I still had her coat over my arm. She needed it to be warm.
“Airport,” I barked at the taxi driver. “Double the fare if you make it in record time.”
The man took my challenge, nearly killing us as he sped through the traffic on the icy roads. I didn’t care if I died in a car accident. If I didn’t find Maya in time, I might as well be dead anyway. Looking back over the last three years, I realized I’d simply existed; I hadn’t really lived. I was going to settle for a mediocre life. What a damn fool I was.
I made good on my promise and paid the taxi driver double the fare. I grabbed Maya’s coat and ran into the departures building.
Which way?
“All passengers boarding the flight to London, you may proceed to gate eleven.”
London.
Sometimes when we’d finished fucking, we’d lie in bed beside each other and talk. She’d tell me little things about her mother. I'd tell her everything I remembered about my father. We kept them alive through our words.
Maya’s mother was born in London. She’d told me she always wanted to go there.
I needed a damn ticket to get past security. The line at every ticket counter was miles long, except for one. I was going to need that infamous charm of mine again. More so because the person behind the desk wasn’t a woman.
“Good evening, sir,” I greeted, trying to sound calm when all I really wanted to do was scream like a crazy person that I needed to get through the gate as soon as possible.
“Yeah?” he said, “How can I help you?”
I took a deep breath. “I need to get to gate eleven. My fiancé is leaving for London. We had a . . . misunderstanding I need to clear up before she goes.” His eyes remained glazed over and impersonal. I bet he’d heard all the stories in the book over the years.
I swallowed hard.
Time to get real.
“Look, the truth is, I’ve fucked up. Badly. She isn’t even my fiancé, and she wants nothing to do with me. She hates my guts. But I’ve just realized I love her. Like really love her and I can’t let her get on that plane without her knowing.”
I exhaled a long breath and waited. Seconds ticked by and still he didn’t respond.
“Ahhh, why didn’t you just tell me you were an asshole that needed help?” His eyes brightened as a smile twisted his lips.
“Yes, I’m the biggest asshole you ever met in your life. Can you help me?” I was clutching at straws here. The clock was ticking and I was no closer to a resolution.
“Only if you have a valid ticket to fly somewhere, sir.”
“What?”
“I said—”
“I heard you. How do I get a ticket?” Shit. I didn’t have time for this.
“You’re in luck. I was just shutting down for the night, but I like saving assholes from themselves. Happens to be that I was one too a long time ago.”
“Um . . . that’s great. So what do I need to do?”
Five minutes later, I had a valid one way ticket in my sweaty hand. Now for security. Luckily I didn’t have baggage with me. Taking a hell of a chance, I went to the first class passenger line. It was always shorter.
“I’m running late,” I said, shrugging. I nearly kissed the man when he waved me through.
Running as fast as I could, I made my way to gate eleven. She has to be there. As I approached, I started looking for her, frantic that she would be one of the first people to have boarded the plane.
My shoulders dropped as I searched the crowd. Maya was nowhere to be seen. Either she had already boarded or I was mistaken in thinking she was going to London.
I’d come this far, I wasn’t giving up without trying everything possible.
I approached the woman at the desk, smiling even though it was the last thing I felt like doing. “Excuse me. I’m wondering if someone I’m looking for has boarded this flight. Can you help me?”
“I'm sorry, sir, I’m not at liberty to give out information on passengers.”
“I just want to know if she’s on this flight or not.”
“What’s her name?”
“Maya. Maya Christina Childs.”
The woman smiled apologetically. “I'm sorry sir, I don’t see that name on my list. That’s all I can tell you.”
”You know my middle name?” Maya’s voice came from behind me.
I spun around, m
y heart leaping out of my fucking chest.
“Little bee.”
“Hello, Oliver,” she said, smiling shyly.
“You didn’t leave.”
“Um, no. Clearly not.” She teased me with her eyes. “You didn’t need to come all the way to the airport just to bring my coat.”
I looked down to where it still hung over my arm. Grinning like a fool, I said, “Thought you'd need it in London. It's freezing there.”
She tilted her head and appraised me. “Why did you think I’d go to London of all places?”
“Because of your mother,” I answered simply.
She sucked in a breath. “You were listening. All those times I thought I was boring you and you'd gone to sleep because you were so quiet.”
“I was listening.”
An awkward silence fell between us. She reached out and took her coat from me. My arm felt cold and way too light.
“Thanks for bringing my coat. I was going to buy a new one in London.”
“So you were going there!”
“Yes. I was too late to get on that flight—the baggage section had already closed. My flight boards in fifteen minutes.”
“Can we talk?”
“What about, Oliver? What's left to say?”
I swallowed hard. “There's too much to talk about here. Come back to my place tonight. We can talk and iron everything out. Then, if you still want to leave, I’ll bring you back in the morning and pay for a new ticket. Deal?”
Maya hesitated, dropping her gaze to her hands like she always did.
“Look at me, little bee,” I said softly.
Slowly, she raised her head until our eyes met.
My mind flitted back to that night at the pool. The night I’d first realized I loved her.
Really loved her.
When I found her there, sleeping on the deck, all I could do at first was stare at her beauty. I saw her vulnerability. The love and peace on her face as I made love to her while she thought she was dreaming. The words I’d held back for years slipped out, spoken to her in her sleep. I knew she heard me. Even if it were a dream, she felt the same. Of that I was sure, even though she’d never spoken of it again.