Page 3 of Say You'll Stay

Because in that moment, I realize the gravity of my mistake. June isn’t just another love, another chapter - he is the other half of my soul. And I fear I’ve inflicted a wound so deep that no amount of apologies can ever heal it.

Chapter two

The silence of the apartment is suffocating, heavy with the echo of our final fight. I pace like a caged animal, Cara’s words still ringing in my ears, a vicious stab to the heart.

“Fucking Michael!” I spit the words out, tasting the bitterness, the betrayal on my tongue. The acrid scent of the bourbon I’ve been drowning myself in lingers in the air, mingling with the faint traces of Cara’s perfume that still cling to the couch.

Seven years of friendship, of stolen glances and secret longing - all shattered in a single moment. The memory of her laughter at the gala, so carefree and genuine, twists like a knife in my gut.

“Will you go to him now, Cara?” I hurl the accusation into the empty room, my voice raw with pain. “Was he there tonight, making you smile in a way I never could?”

I collapse onto the couch, my head in my hands, fingers digging into my scalp as if I could physically remove the images that torment me. “How did it come to this?” I whisper into the void, a tormented plea for answers.

The thought of another man, unworthy and oblivious to her true value, infuriates me. Yet, beneath the anger, there’s a gnawing, insidious fear - was I the one who drove her to this? Did my hidden love, once a comforting secret, become a suffocating cage for her?

I pace back and forth in the living room, each step a testament to my growing restlessness. The loft, once a shared haven for Cara and me, now feels like a prison, its spaciousness mocking my inner turmoil. Memories of our time together haunt every corner, every inch saturated with broken promises and lost dreams.

My heart races, a relentless drumbeat against my chest, as anxiety takes hold. This suit, once a symbol of success and normalcy, now feels like chains binding me to a reality I can no longer bear. Without thinking, I start to strip away the layers, a desperate attempt to escape the physical and emotional confines that tighten around me.

But the release is fleeting. The anger that fueled my actions fades, leaving behind a deep, gnawing shame. In the end, as I sit alone amidst the ruins of our bond, I’m left with nothing but the piercing ache of her absence and the haunting aroma of her scent.

Once a source of comfort, Cara’s sweet perfume now suffocates me, a cruel reminder of what I’ve lost. Her essence will forever linger in the vast void of my existence - permanently etched into the fabric of my DNA, and I would have it no other way.

The mere thought instantly strips me of pretense and pride; and a fresh wave of despair overwhelms my senses, dragging me down. I collapse, the weight of my regrets and unfulfilled wishes pulling me to the floor.

Cara’s absence is a void that no success…no amount of time, can fill. She is a part of me…always will be, and I can’t deny that I’ve already irrevocably altered the course of my life, making every effort to be hers…because every part of me knows I was born to serve Cara. To love and protect my Cara Mia forever.

My sobs, raw and unguarded, echo through the empty loft, a lonely sound in the vast silence that has taken over our home. I understand the true cost of my choices. Yet despite the pain, despite the relentless chill of her absence, I know in my heart that I wouldn’t change a thing.

For in loving her, I discovered a part of myself I never knew existed.

My emotions leaving my body feels heavy, like I’m shattered on the floor of the place we once called ours. The oppressive stillness of the loft bearing witness to my breakdown, a reminder of how alone I truly am now.

There’s no escape from this hell of my own making - I reach for another bottle of bourbon, forsaking a glass this time - continuing my futile attempts to drown the taste of betrayal and despair. Each gulp burns…a poor substitute, I’m not even numb. Not even bourbon brings the peace I seek. But I know the truth, even behind the haze of emotion and intoxication.

Cara is the only remedy. Her presence is the cure I desperately crave…to silence the noise in my head.

The room spins, blurring into dark oblivion as I sink deeper into the cold floor, letting the alcohol drag me down into a fitful slumber…praying I’ll wake up in the hell I deserve…or the heaven I still dared to dream…putting an end to this fucked-up nightmare.

Sunlight, cruel and unyielding, pierces through the blinds, an unwelcome visitor to my misery. My head pounds in protest, each beat a reminder of the night’s torments…just like my empty bed. The shrill ring of my phone pierces the silence, and I flinch, the sound too loud, too jarring.

The caller ID flashes “Mother,” and I feel my stomach drop. I considered letting it go to voicemail, but I know better. Elaine Deveaux waits for no one, not even her own son. With a sigh, I answer, bracing myself for the inevitable.

“Juniper,” her voice is sharp, cutting through the haze of my misery. “I hope you’re ready for the McCleary fundraiser tonight. The family is counting on you to make a good impression.”

I close my eyes, the weight of her expectations settling on my shoulders like a physical burden. “Mother, I’m not sure I’m up for it tonight. I—-”

“Nonsense,” she interrupts, her tone brooking no argument. “You have a duty to this family, Juniper. It’s time you started acting like it.”

The unspoken message is clear: my personal life, my happiness, it means nothing in the face of the Deveaux legacy. I’m just a pawn, a piece to be moved and manipulated on the chessboard of high society. And Cara? She was never part of their game.

“I’ll be there,” I manage, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Don’t worry, Mother. I know how to play my part.”

As the call disconnects, I’m left in a silence that feels even more oppressive than before. The expectations, the duty, the weight of the family name—it’s all tied up in the hated name she insists on using. Juniper. A constant reminder that I’ll never be free, never truly be myself.

With a heavy heart, I drag myself to the bedroom, each step a Herculean effort. The sight of the perfectly pressed tuxedo waiting for me is a mocking reminder of the charade I’m about to perform.

As I dress, I catch my reflection in the mirror, the man staring back at me a stranger. Gone is the carefree, lovestruck fool who dared to dream of a future with Cara. In his place stands Juniper Deveaux, heir to a legacy of wealth and power, a man trapped by the very privilege that defines him.

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