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“Nice to see you again, Pretty in Purple. I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.” All the air in my lungs rushes out in an audible gasp as I jerk back away from him. No. I peer down at him, scouring his features, feeling all the blood drain from my face as I try to reconcile my memory of a man I’ve worked so hard to forget. No fucking way.
I hate small towns. I hate how friendly they are, that you’re expected to stop and make small talk with people you don’t know and definitely don’t care about. And I hate that everyone knows your business. Most days, I think I might just generally hate people—but even I don’t want to be that far gone. That dark.
“You don’t need to move out.” I break the silence abruptly and stare out the windshield, hard, like there’s something interesting out here in the middle of a field. Spoiler alert: there’s not.
Life courses through her so vividly and almost tangibly—like I could reach out and touch it, bottle it up and drink it, or just keep it. Possess it, knowing I have the option to consume it whenever I want. Money can’t buy this brand of vitality. This is bone deep—soul deep. She shines like the sun, golden and bright.
I live in the shadows, and she’s like this ray of light that brightens my day. I’m so fucking greedy.
I should tell her she’s so much more. The thing that got me out of bed most mornings. My bright spot. My sunshine.
Whatever this is? We’ve been talking to each other every day for a year. How many more years would I need to go? I’ve always said no to it, too. Golddigger85 We all make choices. I suddenly feel embarrassed. Deeply embarrassed. He has been adamant from Day One that he’d never show me more than that one photo. And yet I somehow convinced myself I’d be the one to change him—that I’d be the exception to the rule.
The realization that I’d just been totally vulnerable with a man who would never reciprocate, even though I’d been naive enough to convince myself he might, hits me like an avalanche. It takes me right out. I compromised my values, my morals—fuck, possibly my career—all because I was horny and hopelessly obsessed with a stranger I met on the internet. The faint taste of bile burns my throat and sours my mouth. I need a drink. Or two. Or ten.
“What do you want me to tell you? I never open up to anyone. You think everything between us just started and finished with a photo for me? Like it was easy for me to lose you? To not know if you were okay? To miss you so much it physically hurt? You broke me!”
“You broke me first,” I whisper.
“You’re not broken. You’re perfect. And I’m a shitty fucking patchwork quilt. I’ve spent years picking up the tattered pieces of myself, every life event, every heartbreak, and slowly stitched it all back together. But I’m not good at sewing, Violet.”
“And now the edges are starting to fray. I’m coming apart at the goddamn seams, and you’re the one holding the thread that could undo it all.”
“Evening the playing field. You need to know what this is between us? It’s fucking everything.”
“Would it shock you to know I’ve closed my eyes and imagined being fucked by you for two whole years? You’re my go-to fantasy, Cole.”
You don’t look at me like I’m tragic. You look at me like we’re inevitable.”
What I don’t say is . . . that’s what scares me. We are completely inevitable.
I’m definitely in love with Violet Eaton.
I need to be alone. I can’t be with someone who does this for a living.
“You guys are both so stupid. He’s scared of losing you, and you’re scared of losing him. You both need to toughen up and get back to smashing. You’re both in a better mood when you do. He’s less grumpy, and you’re less emo.”
“I know you see yourself as dark. But you aren’t. You’re swirling color, all different shades, a mosaic. You’re complicated and beautiful. And I’m not quitting on you, so you better not quit on me.”
“better. Not healed. Not different. I don’t want you different. I want you with your jagged edges and your growly moods.”
“I know everyone else has let you hide away. No one has gone out of their way to check on you, to love you. Everyone around you has failed you so thoroughly, given up on you so easily.”
“I want you. But you need to want you too. I can’t want you enough for the both of us.”
She’s like sunshine on my face. Warm and bright. I feel like I’ve been living in the shade, in a dark corner, and rather than dragging me kicking and screaming out of it—like so many people have tried to—she’s just shifted over a little bit to share her light.”
“But light is tricky. It slips through your fingers. It’s fleeting. It comes and goes. We never get to possess it; you can’t hold it in your hand. We just get to enjoy it. And if you can figure out a way to just let go and enjoy it, well, Cole, you’ll be one of the lucky ones.”
“And what if something happens to her?” “But what if nothing happens to her, and you spend the rest of your life missing out on all that light?”
Win or lose. She’s always smiling out there. Smiling right at me. Lighting me up. Because she’s my fucking sunshine.
