Page 22 of Seizing Control: Part One

“You left me alone at the worst point in my life, then you told my father that we were permanently done without even sparing me a minute of your time to talk about it. More fool me, I tried to move past that, let you touch me again, and what did you do? You fucking walked away for a second time! Even the biggest idiot on the planet—namely me—knows that means we’re over.”

My chest is heaving as I realise that I’m not the only person Zeke hurt that night.

The epiphany that hits me like a hurricane is six months in the making...

He destroyed me.

But he also damned us.

I shake free of the precognition, and attempt to deflect the harsh insight by ranting at my first love. “Once again, you proved that you love your ego more than me. Poor little Zeke… couldn’t handle the pain. Couldn’t take the responsibility of loving his broken metukà shelì through the bad shit. Tucked tail and ran, leaving me to get through the loss alone.”

Left unsaid is the truth that I can’t tell him.

The cruel realisation that just clobbered me over the head.

There’s no going back to how we used to be...

Because Zeke left me to discover an alternate reality.

I love Slash.

I’m in love with Slash.

“I thought it was for the best—” He sighs. When I feel the urge to soothe his obvious sorrow, I clasp my fingers behind my back. “I let you down.”

“You sure did... but not over Alex. You let me down when your pride couldn’t handle me saving myself. I killed him. He’s gone. We were free!” Every nerve ending twangs as the full extent of Zeke’s screw-up settles within me. Without pulling any verbal punches, I expose the version of hell he left in his wake. “I hope you’ve suffered since then because I fucking well have.”

“See these?” Shoving him away from me once more, I pull my skirt high and show him the scars on my thighs and lower belly. His gaze locks on my stomach, but I don’t allow him the opportunity to mention our lost baby again. “This is just a taste of my suffering. These are only the scars on the outside—” Running my fingernails over the deeper cuts, my vulnerability weighs heavily, and I try to backtrack. Giving in to the urge to minimise my agony, to protect my pride from the man who shattered it, I lie through my teeth, “It only happened a few times… once about a week after, then twice more in the days that followed the concert.” Zeke tries to interrupt me, no doubt to offer platitudes that fix nothing, but I keep talking. “Tell me… where were you then? Oh, I know! While I was cutting to cope, you were making a deal to stay away from me in exchange for keeping your power in the club. Selling me out for your own agenda just like Dad did.”

At the mention of his deal with my father, Zeke reels back like I’ve slapped him again.

Laughing maniacally, I grin as I ask, “Oh, you didn’t realise I knew that?”

“No one knows.”

“Well, I do. Your cloud is still synced to my laptop. After the concert, I tried to find that video we made—I wanted to see you, see us, since I couldn’t touch you—ended up serving myself a hard dose of reality instead.” He rubs his chest with his palm, and I push my hands under my thighs to stop myself from giving into my need to pull him close. “Imagine my surprise when I listened to the recording. Another day, another bunch of lies courtesy of Ezekiel Miles.”

“I can explain.”

The adrenaline that was fueling me drains away in the next instant. Suddenly sober, exhausted down to the depths of my soul, I press the point of my stiletto heel to Zeke’s stomach and shove him away from me. He moves reluctantly, jerking like I’ve shot him when I say, “I don’t want your excuses. They mean nothing… not when it’s crystal fucking clear that you only want me when I have my mask of perfection in place—when you can congratulate yourself on healing me. ’Cause as soon as you lose control of the world around us, and the people we love discover that I’m a fucking mess, you’re out. It gets too hard for you. You run.”

“That’s not true.”

When he tries to come closer, I dismiss him with another jab of my heel and a flick of my hand. My unflinching reaction belies the turmoil whipping through me. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You broke my trust when you chose to take my father’s stupid deal instead of coming to me first. That’s what ruined us. Not Alex. Not losing the baby. It was you.”

Sliding down the dresser and back to my feet, I initially stiffen and hold my breath when Zeke pulls me into his embrace. When he nudges his nose through my hair, I find myself wilting against him. The beating of my heart picks up speed as my first love brings his mouth level with my ear and whispers, “I’m gonna fix this.”

For one second, I allow myself to believe that he’s capable of pulling off the impossible.

I imagine a world where none of this happened.

A world where I’m still blissfully unaware of my real feelings.

My heart immediately rejects a return to my previous delusion, so I straighten my shoulders and pull on my proverbial big girl panties. “Good luck. You’re going to need it ’cause there’s no coming back from this for me.”

In a movement that comes from habit and memory, I run my fingernails over the shaved sides of his head, then wind my fingers through the longer hair at his crown. He smells the same. Feels the same. Looks the same. It kills me to separate from him, however, I know I must. Tilting Zeke’s head back, I press a kiss to his lightly bearded chin. A heartbeat later, my lips meet his, and I allow myself to taste my first love’s familiarity one last time.

When I pull away, he moves with me. Shadowing my movements as I refuse his touch on my way to the exit, he pauses when I say, “The saddest part of all this is that I still love you. Probably always will.”

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