Page 62 of The Spark

It was late. I didn’t expect a response right away.

But a few minutes later…

Amaya:Yeah. What time?

* * *

I got there early.Didn’t know what I was doing, just that I needed to be on time. Needed to be still.

The breeze rolled through the trees. It was quiet here. Away from the noise. From the studio. From everything I’d done wrong.

When I saw her, everything in me tightened.

She was in jeans and a hoodie, hair pulled back, glasses sliding down her nose. Still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

“Hey,” I said as she approached.

She gave a slight nod. “Hey.”

We stood like that for a second. Just looking at each other.

Then she folded her arms across her chest. “So… what is this?”

I exhaled slowly. “Closure. Or clarity. I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Her voice was tight, guarded.

I ran a hand over my beard. “I know I messed up.”

“Yeah. You did.”

“I let Tasha hang around too long. And I should’ve shut that shit down way before it got to that point.”

“Why didn’t you?” she asked, and while her eyes were hard, they were also vulnerable underneath.

I sighed. “Because I was arrogant. Because I thought it didn’t matter. That just having you meant no one else could threaten what we had.”

Her mouth pressed into a line.

I kept going. “Studio culture is messy. People hang around, hoping they’ll get something out of it. I’ve been around women like that before. They weren’t about me. They were about what being with me could give them. Clout. Proximity. Fame.”

“And that made it okay?” Her voice cracked.

“No. It made me stupid.” I met her eyes. “You weren’t just somebody hanging on. You’re the only one who ever saw me. Who knew me before any of this. You were never about what I had. You saw me when I didn’t even know who I was yet.”

She looked down, voice quiet. “Then why’d you stop calling?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Because I thought I had time. Because I thought if I stayed close enough, even in the silence, you’d still feel me. But that’s not love, A. That’s convenience. And you deserve more.”

She was quiet for a long moment. Then, “When I saw her with you... I felt small. I felt stupid. I knew you weren’t like that with her, but that didn’t matter. I saw her hand on your chest and I felt invisible. Replaceable.”

“Never,” I said, stepping closer. “You’re not invisible. And you damn sure aren’t replaceable.”

Her eyes filled, but she blinked it back. “It just… brought everything up for me. Every fear I’ve ever had. That maybe I wasn’t enough. That maybe what we had was just temporary for you.”

I shook my head. Her words crushed me. I made her feel that. I didn’t make her know my love. Not consistently enough. “It’s never been that.”

She inhaled slowly, then exhaled.

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