Loïc’s good-bye sets a fire to my soul, giving me a renewed sense of strength.

This will not be it. He cannot do this to me, to us.He’s confused or scared. I have to prove to him that he’s wrong.

“Loïc, I need to see you. We need to talk. Whatever is going on…let me help you. We can work on this together. It’s not over. Please let me in. I love you.” My voice breaks on the last sentence. Those three little words don’t even do justice to the way I feel about him.

I more than love him. The way I feel about Loïc is more than just a need, a want, a feeling. It’s more than a word. It’s a lifetime of commitment. It’s a lifetime of love, respect, trust. It’s an eternity of hugs, laughter, passion, and lust. It’s everything I say and do forever. Loïc will be present in every thought and action I take for the rest of my life.

Yes, I more than love Loïc. Ilivehim. With every heartbeat, every breath, and every thought, I live him. And he will be a part of me for the rest of my life.

“London, I’m fucked up.” His voice is pained, so desolate and sad.

My chest aches, and I long to hold him.

I inhale, pulling another breath into my lungs, before saying, “It’s okay. Remember…we can be fucked up together? We can get through anything if we’re together. I can help you. I can love you like no one else ever can. We are meant to be together, Loïc. There is no one else on this earth for me. You are it. I’m yours, and you’re mine.”

“I don’t believe in that.”

“Well, I believe enough for the both of us,” I reassure him.

“You see, my heart and its capacity to love is my biggest flaw of all. I warned you, London. I told you this would happen.”

“What?”

“From the very beginning, I told you that I would hurt you. I wouldn’t want to, but I would. I told you that I lose everything I love. I warned you. I begged you to stay away.” His deep timbre cracks on the last word.

“You haven’t lost me. You’ll never lose me. And your heart’s not flawed. I know you, Loïc. Just come over. Let’s talk. Everything will be better once we’re together. I promise you.”

“It’s over, London. We’re over. Please let me go.” His plea is so desperate, his voice so raw.

Tears course down my cheeks. “We’re not. Please. It will be okay.”

“We’re over,” he says once more. “I’m sorry.”

“But…no,” I cry out in despair.

“London, you’re hurting me. You. Are. Hurting. Me.”

I suck in a breath at his harsh words.

“Please…please…let me go,” he begs.

His voice radiates with a pain I’ve never known. It’s a sorrow so tangible that it hits me through the phone, weighing down on me like a mountain of tears.

I struggle to breathe. “Loïc,” I cry, sobbing now.

“Please, let me go. Just let me go,” he whispers before the line goes dead.

I’m left clutching the phone to my ear, desperately clinging to the need to hear a voice I’m afraid I’ll never hear again.

I rock back and forth on the couch as sobs rack my body. Every inch of me mourns the loss of Loïc. I cradle the phone against my chest and hug it as the tears continue to fall in streams, physical manifestations of the immense amount of anguish needing to leave my body. I’m filled with too much grief to bear. I have to ease the stress on my soul, or it will suffocate me.

I cry until my head throbs with pain. I sit up from my hunched rocking position, and it’s only then that I notice Paige is sitting next to me. Her face is wet with tears. She pulls me into her chest, and I hug her tight, grateful for the comfort of someone who loves me.

She doesn’t say anything as she rubs my back, the gesture calming.

I sit up and look to her. “What is it that they always say?” I question sadly. “If you love someone, set them free?”

She nods weakly, her eyes filling with tears. “Yeah,” she sighs. “That’s what they say.”