by E. J. Mellow
Yours never truly,
Work Day
At least that would be a start.
It’s times like these where I find myself growing a bit resentful toward my world and what I’m doing in it. My life in Terra has so much more meaning and importance, and it seems horribly selfish that none of us have any idea that Terra’s unknowing hard work allows us the frivolities of our lives. Lives that most of us take for granted. I know there was a time when we were aware of it, of them. Riki lived in that era, but that was many, many centuries ago, and for one reason or another, the secrets of this other dimension have been lost over time. So while I sit here in Jared’s apartment, both of us sipping wine, I can’t help brooding over the fact that at this very moment, Metus could be attacking another generator, killing another Nocturna. It’s enough to make me want to pull out my hair with the anxiety to get back there later tonight.
“Do you know what you just agreed to?” Jared pokes me with his fork, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Uh, yeah…” I say and then frown. “Okay, no, sorry. I was someplace else.”
“You don’t say?” He flashes me a wry grin. “Want to talk about it?”
“No, no, just work stuff.” I take a bite of food. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I was telling you that my parents are coming into town next week.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“And I want them to meet you.”
“Oh.”
Jared leans back in his chair and brushes his fingers through his blond hair. “Not exactly the response you gave a few seconds ago.”
“Sorry…it’s just…isn’t it a little soon?”
“Soon?” He snorts. “Molly, we’ve been dating for months now, and I’ve already met your parents.”
“Yes, but that was due to very unusual circumstances.”
“Maybe, but the when and where doesn’t really matter in the end.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs and reaches for my hand. Placing it on top of mine, he scans my face with slight nervousness. “Molly…I love you.”
I’m frozen while everything else in me speeds up.
I love you.
I knew this was coming. I could see it in the way he’s been looking at me for weeks. I just thought by the time it was verbalized, I’d have caught up, would be right there with him. I mean, everything’s been going so well with us, I should be there. I should.
But…I’m not.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“And by your silence, I gather you don’t feel the same way.” He removes his hand.
“No.” I reach out and twine my fingers with his. “It’s just…I’m just…you caught me off guard.”
His eyes fill with a tinge of hope, and I want to kick myself. “So then…you do feel the same?”
I worry my bottom lip, desperately trying to figure out the best way to handle this. “I think that I can get there after some more time.” He tries to pull his hand back again, but I hold firm. “Jared, I care about you. A lot. I love when I’m with you. I love what we have together.”
“You just don’t love me.” His eyes narrow with hurt before looking away.
“I…”
“Molly, it’s okay.” He suddenly stands and begins to clear the table. “It’s okay,” he says again.
“Jared, stop for a second.” I follow him to his kitchen, where he drops the dishes in the sink and grabs the edge, his knuckles turning white.
“I knew I was taking a chance by saying it first,” he mumbles absently. “There always has to be one person to say it first.” He abruptly steps back and opens one of his cabinets. Grabbing a bottle of scotch, he pours himself a generous glass and then turns to me. “Want one?”
I shake my head.
“Of course you don’t.” He laughs without humor. “You’re not the one that just put their heart on the table to get skewered.”
“Jared, I didn’t mean to—”
“No, you never do, Molly.” He tips back the amber liquid.
I raise my brows. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” He studies his glass. “It means nothing.”
“Well, it obviously means something, or you wouldn’t have said it.”
He eyes me for a second, a flash of cold in his gaze before it changes back to sadness, and my heart breaks for a second time tonight even though I know it’s all my own doing.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. None of it.” He takes another swig. “Actually, you know what? No.” He puts down his glass and turns to me. “I’m glad I did. It’s all out in the open now. I always knew I felt more for you than you did for me anyway.”
“That’s not fair. I care for you, Jared. You can’t say that I don’t. Plus, this isn’t a competition. You can’t race to something that’s supposed to grow naturally. Just because I’m not in love with you right now doesn’t mean I won’t be eventually.”
“Exactly!” he yells, and I jump. “Eventually!” He takes a step toward me, and I can’t help but take one back. “I want to be with someone that doesn’t need eventually,” he says with forced calm. “Or more time, or maybe. Molly, I knew I was going to fall in love you the first time we met.”
My breath hitches, and I open and close my mouth, lost for words.
“I knew the moment I saw you at that party that you were the one, my one,” he says with more softness as he comes to stand directly in front of me, and my chest aches from the emotions on his face—the anguish, the hurt, the hope. He moves to touch my cheek, but hesitates, so with shaky fingers I reach up and press his hand to my skin.
He closes his eyes briefly, as if in pain. “I felt your reluctance in the beginning. I was never blind to that. I saw that you were scared of relying on someone so heavily, but I thought if I was patient enough, we’d move past that.
“We have,” I say, digging my fingers into his T-shirt.
“Maybe, but it’s not enough for you to love me.”
“Please,” I whisper, my throat growing tight, “just give me a little more time.”
“And what happens when time’s not enough?” He shakes his head and looks down. “No, you either know or you don’t. It’s that simple.”
Is it? Deep down I know he’s right. I know because it felt that simple with someone else, and yet I still want to scream.
“And honestly, you’ve been distant lately. I should have taken it as a sign.”
“Distant? We hang out almost every night.”
“You’ve been mentally someplace else for weeks.”
My heart begins to work in overtime. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, like earlier.” He motions to the table. “You tune out like that all the time now. Even though you’re with me physically, I feel like you’re mentally somewhere else. That you want to be somewhere else.”
“I…I don’t mean to be.” I’m out of my depths with this one. How do I explain myself without telling the truth? The truth that he 100 percent won’t believe.
“Is there someone else?” he asks.
“Of course not!” I quickly counter, ignoring the sudden guilt clawing at me.
He nods, the tension in his body relaxing slightly.
“Jared, I can try harder. I didn’t know you felt this way. I can be better—”
“I know,” he says softly. “But maybe…maybe given what was said earlier—or wasn’t—it’s for the best.”
The food in my stomach turns sour. “What does that mean? What are you saying?”
His features pinch in with pain. “I’m saying this isn’t working. I can’t wait for someone to make up their mind when it was never a decision for me in the first place.”
“But—”
“Molly, let’s be honest for once. We’re really good together. Jesus, we really are, and I wish that were enough for you to get there, for you to see…” He swallows as if the words tasted bad coming out. “But something’s holding you back, beca
use it shouldn’t be this hard to know about me, to know if I’m your one.”
“I…” My throat has gone dry, my words stuck.
He briefly glances to the floor. “This isn’t working,” he says, his eyes returning to me. “And you know it.”
I take in a shaky breath, count to five, and then five again before I crack. I crack wide open and tumble. Leaning into his chest, I cry. I cry for us. I cry for knowing he’s right, for having known for a while but being too scared to act on it. I cry for not being able to love someone so perfect, just merely not my perfect, and I cry from the way Jared still holds me even though I just broke his heart, broke our hearts.
“Is this really happening right now?” I ask, burying my face further into his now-damp shirt. He presses his lips to the top of my head, and I wrap myself tighter around him. “Are you sure you can’t give me more time?”
“Oh, Molly.” He tips my head up to look at him. “If only that were all that was needed.” Slow tears track down his cheeks, and my lips wobble, teetering on another sob.
“Stop.” I push my face in his chest again, not wanting to see my own sorrow reflected in his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m doing it for the both of us.”
“No.” I mumble into him.
“Trust me. I wish the outcome of what I said earlier was different, very different, but it wasn’t. We both need more. I see that now, and I know you do too.”
I hold my eyes shut for a moment before glancing up. “Can you at least be a little bit of a jerk to make this easier?”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“I’m the one that’s a disappointment.”
“Maybe.” He attempts a playful grin, but it comes out more pained.
“I’m so sorry, Jared.” I hesitantly take a step back from him. “I’m sorry that I…that I…”
“I know,” he says softly. “Me too.” His sad hazel gaze meets mine, and now that we’re not touching, I suddenly become very cold. The space between us, though small, feels a canyon’s distance, and I realize neither of us can cross it now. This is it. This is the end. It’s horrible how quickly a person can go from being an intimate part of your life to a stranger.
“I guess…I guess I should go then?”
He doesn’t say yes, but more importantly he doesn’t say no, so wordlessly I retrieve my coat and purse, feeling the presence of him everywhere, like a blanket. The emotion in the room is suffocating, strangling, and I itch to run from it, all the while not wanting to leave. Slowly I head to the door, swallowing back the new tears that threaten to fall.
That’s where we meet, each of us wearing a mask. A once-normal night turns into a disaster. How did this happen? I open my mouth to say something, anything, when Jared sweeps me into his arms and kisses me like it’s the last time. Because it is the last time. With my fingers digging into his hair and his strong hands wrapped tightly around my waist, I taste the salt from both our tears, and I take it in, all of it. I let it seep into my bones, my blood. Feel this. Feel all of this. Then all too soon he’s lowering me away, our only connection maintained from our touching foreheads. It’s in this position that we whisper the final words that need to be spoken. The apologies, the could haves, the well wishes, the things that will never be forgotten. We say all of it, empty it all out. And then gently, after a time I can’t quantify, he lets me go.
And with slow steps forward, I let him go.
— 21 —
PUNCH, PUNCH, KICK. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Punch, punch, kick. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Sweat drips into my eyes. I ignore it.
My throat claws for hydration. I ignore it.
My heart sags. I ignore it.
Thoughts of Jared. Thoughts of Dev. Thoughts of what I’m doing here.
Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it.
“Okay, I think that’s enough for today.” Rae steps back, lowering his sparring gloves.
“I can go a little longer.” I pant, readying myself to continue.
“Maybe, but it’s enough for today.”
I frown, dropping my hands. “Fine.”
Walking to the edge of the training room, I grab my towel and wipe myself down.
Two days after Jared and I broke up, Elena informed me that I needed to plan another extended stay in Terra. I nearly ran to the Village Portal bookstore the next night to meet Rae. Even though this city isn’t much of an emotional reprieve from New York, it’s a step up from wallowing in my apartment with Becca.
She was the first call after leaving Jared’s. Always my first call. I only managed to choke out “I need you,” but that’s all she had to hear. With my head in her lap, she listened when I told her what happened, didn’t ask questions when I said it was for the best, held me when I broke down in tears again, and understood when I said I was going home for the weekend. I know a part of her thinks I’m completely mad for letting Jared go, or more accurately letting him dump me, but she’ll never tell me that. She just kept repeating that she wants me to do whatever will make me happy. If Jared’s not that, then he’s not that. My only fear is that the person who might be the one isn’t that much better of a choice, if he’s still a choice at all.
“You doing all right?” Rae asks from behind me.
“Just peachy, why?”
“Becca told me what happened.”
Of course she did. I take a swig of water.
“I’m sorry. I know you liked him a lot.”
“Yeah, well apparently liking him a lot wasn’t enough.” I press one of the panels in the wall and throw my towel into a compartment for cleaning.
Rae runs his fingers through his hair, not sure what else to say.
I let out a sigh. “Sorry. I’m being a jerk. I’m just dealing with a lot…emotionally right now.”
“It probably wasn’t the best timing, huh?”
“Actually, it probably was. I don’t need the extra distraction right now.” I’ve had this reasoning on repeat since getting here.
Rae nods, at a loss for words again, but that’s fine with me because I don’t feel much like talking.
“I’m going to shower and meet Elena for our session,” I say, walking to the exit. Even though I can easily imagine myself clean, nothing beats actually standing under steaming hot water. Alec is already there to accompany me, a small smile in place, and for once his lack of natural inquisitiveness is a blessing.
“And then how about you come back and we can train a little more?” Rae calls after me.
I turn around, confused. “I thought you said that was enough for today.”
“What? You tired already?”
I know what he’s doing. I know, and I completely love him for it. “Not in the least.” I flash him an appreciative grin. Keeping busy won’t fix things, but it certainly will help.
—∞—
Sandbags, thousands of them. All tied to my body weighing me down as I walk into the elevator to Tim, Aveline, and Dev’s building—and, strangely, mine too now. A day and a half of nonstop training. A day and a half of concentrating on not getting knocked down, not letting the power of the Navitas slip from my grasp or the memories of past Dreamers overwhelm me. A day and a half of blissful, beautiful mental distractions.
The elevator doors shut.
A moment of silent ascent.
God damn it. I let out an audible moan as it all comes crashing down, in, and around. The thoughts I left in New York invade like Vikings in Normandy.
Jared and I are over. One less string holding me to my other life. But who am I kidding? I knew this was coming. Knew I was asking for it, and honestly, how could I have done anything differently? I thought I was doing a good job of maintaining a balance of both worlds, but everything happening in Terra is too demanding, both mentally and physically. It’s impossible for them not to take up my thoughts when I’m awake. How do you shut down something that has been fused to your very sou
l? How do you hide that in a relationship when you’re meant to share everything?
Stepping out of the elevator, I wipe an idle tear that tracks down my cheek, feeling so selfish to have held on to Jared when I knew deep down I would never truly love him the way I was supposed to, the way he deserves.
A girl’s laughter interrupts my thoughts, and I stop outside the apartment door. The light joyous sound filters through again, but this time it’s accompanied by a man’s. My stomach twists into a sour grape knowing who’s connected to the other end of that deep rumble. Who the girl is? I have no idea. The image of the last woman I saw Dev with flashes before me, and I swallow.
I was going to have to deal with this eventually. Why not just pile it on top of everything else? They don’t call it a shit sandwich for nothing. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.
The girl sitting next to Dev isn’t the one from Anima. No, she’s someone much, much worse.
Aurora and Dev glance up from their close positioning on the couch.
“Hey, Molly,” Aurora says with a smile, placing the tablet she and Dev were sharing onto his lap. Her eyes glide over my form, and I self-consciously have the urge to take out my ponytail and fluff my hair to meet her approval. Ugh.
“Hey,” I mumble, shuffling toward the kitchen. Dev’s gaze follows me the whole way, which a month ago wouldn’t be weird, but now after practically being ignored by him for weeks is kind of disconcerting. It takes all my strength not to look back in his direction as I grab a glass of water.
“How was training?” Dev asks.
I almost choke midsip. For real? Days of silent treatment, and the first thing he says to me is how was training? Not responding, I place my glass in the sink and walk toward my room.
“Molly?” he calls out to my retreating form, which keeps retreating until I’m safely behind my closed door, where I sag against it.
I’m so tired, and not just because of my recent nonstop training. How can I keep all this up? Especially when the hardest part hasn’t even happened yet. I’m still somehow supposed to save mankind from being mentally infected by demons. Or something like that.