Page 6 of His Dark Pull

As I near Sarah’s apartment building, the scent of saltwater mingles with the dampness of the rain. She lives close to the harbor, just beyond the city’s edge. Ships bob gently in the water, their lights flickering in the mist.

MaybeSarahwillhave some insight into all of this.I need someone to talk to.

Despite the city’s size, I feel familiarity here, a sense of belonging that draws me forward. She is my oldest friend, a constant source of support and understanding. As I stand on her doorstep, the rain plastering my hair to my face, I know I need her now more than ever.

Sarah flings open the door, her eyes widening at the sight of my rain-soaked form. Her fiery red hair is piled high in a messy bun, and her bright pink yoga pants and matching sports bra do little to hide her athletic figure. Even without her signature red lipstick, her vibrant personality shines through.

“Ava! Come in, you’re drenched, honey!”she exclaims, ushering me into the warmth of her apartment. The familiar scent of incense and essential oils fills my senses.

I step inside, shedding my coat and shoes. The warmth of the apartment is a welcome contrast to the chill that has settled in my bones. Sarah’s apartment is a kaleidoscope of colors and textures. Mismatched throw pillows adorn a plush couch, and vibrant tapestries cover the walls.

A memory surfaces – two giggling girls building a fort out of blankets and pillows, their laughter echoing through the halls of Sarah’s childhood home. Evenbackthen, Sarah was a force of nature, her infectious enthusiasm and unwavering optimism a constant source of light in my often gloomy world.

“It’s been one of those days,”I mumble, sinking onto the couch, feeling the exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours catching up with me.

Sarah,everthe perceptive friend,takes one lookat my face and disappears into the kitchen.Her recent participation in a learn-your-tea retreat with her yoga team has made her a tea expert. A moment later, she returns with a steaming mug of herbal tea, the fragrant steam carrying the promise of comfort.

“Here,”she says, placing the mug in my hands. “Drink this. You look like you could use it.”

I take a sip, the warmth spreading through my chilled body. “Thanks, Sarah,”I whisper, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

“So,”she says, settling onto the opposite end of the plum-colored plush couch, her green eyes filled with concern. “What’s going on? You showing up here drenched and upset.”

My tongue feels thick, the words catch in my throat like a tangled fishing line. Alexander’s face, etched with that captivating smile, swam before me, chased away by Tyler’s trusting eyes. How can I explain the mess of emotions, the fear of being caught in a game of love I don’t know how to play.

“It’s Alexander,”I say, my voice low. “I saw him yesterday.”

Sarah’s expression shifts, her usual carefree demeanor replaced with a tight jaw and pressed lips. “What?”she says, her voice rising. “How could you even think about seeing that monster again after what he did to you?”

Sarah’s narrowed eyes pierce through me. “I know, I know,”I say, my voice cracking. “But it wasn’t like that. He just showed up, and we ended up talking–”

Sarah’swords stung,butthey alsoechoed a truth I couldn’t escape.My jaw clenches, and I dig my nails into the palms of my hands, fighting the urge to get up and leave. Is she right? Why am I defending him? Is it just the memory of his touch, the way he makes me feel alive, that blinds me to his darkness?

“Just talking?”Sarah’s tone sharpens. “Is that what you call sex these days? Ava, you’re with Tyler. You can’t just go running back to your ex like that! Geez!”

“I know,”I say, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “And I feel terrible about it. I shouldn’t have seenhim, but there’s just something abouthimthat I can’t shake. I can’t help the way I feel.”

“He was abusive! He manipulated you and controlled you,”she says, her voice rising. “Just like my ex, the freakin’ control freak! He’s not good for you. You need to stay away from him.”

A tear escapes and slides down my cheek. Sarah is right, of course. Alexander is a force of nature that has the power to destroy me. But even knowing this, I can’t denythe wayhe makes me feel alive, like I am capable of anything.

“I’ll try,”I whisper, wiping away the tears. “I’ll stay away fromhim. I just—I need some time to figure things out.”

Sarah reaches out and takes my hand. “Take all the time you need,”she says. I’m here for you. Just remember, you deserve to be with someone who treats you with love and respect—someone likeTyler.”

I nod, clinging to her words like a lifeline. But even as I promise myself to focus on Tyler and the future, a part of me knows that Alexander will forever hold a piece of my heart.And I’m not sure I will evertrulybe free of him.

I nod, taking another sip of my tea, the warmth a small comfort against the storm brewing inside me.

Sarah is right.

And yet, it isn’t just passion that draws me to Alexander. It’s aconnection that goes deeper, a shared understanding that transcends words.We have a history, a tapestry woven withbothjoy and pain, that binds us together in a way I can’t explain,can’t escape.

As the last of our tea disappears, Sarah’s gaze sparkles. “Ava, why don’t you stay over? Let’s have a good old PJ party! Just like old times,”she suggests, a playful glint dancing in her eyes. Her hand gestures towards the window where the relentless downpour continues to assault her windows. “That rain isn’t going anywhere.”

A wave of nostalgia hits me like a tidal wave. Sleepovers with Sarah were a staple of our childhood, filled with whispered secrets, late-night movies, and enough junk food to make our mothers cringe. They were a refuge from the storms of adolescence, a safe space where we could be ourselves, vulnerable and unfiltered. After the death of my parents, it had been an anchor tying me to sanity.

“I’ll be fine, Sarah,”I say, thoughthe idea ofreturning to my empty apartment holds little appeal. “I don’t want to impose.”

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