Page 88 of Don’t Forget Me

EZRA

“You seem rather stressed. Maybe I could help you… relax?” Skye suggested, her hand rubbing my shoulder. With all my willpower, I went still as a statue even though I had the urge to push her touch far away from me.

I knew what she was offering, and I’d told her countless times before that I wasn’t interested. Since she got hired, she’d been following me around the entire set. This woman was making me uncomfortable. Not once had I given her a sliver of hope, yet she continued to pursue me.

“No, thank you. Look, I really need to get back to work.”

Skye pulled my neck down toward her. “You’re so hardworking. I love that in a man,” she whispered.

I felt myself shiver in disgust. I whispered my mother’s teachings in my mind. My mother taught me to respect women, even when I was being disrespected myself.

What would my mother want me to do in a situation like this?

I heard loud footsteps rushing past me. I glimpsed Lysandra’s curls dashing between the moving carts and bustling film crew. Perhaps she saw the way Skye was clinging to me.

Swiftly, I removed Skye’s arms from my shoulder and ran after Lysandra. I didn’t wish for her to have the wrong idea. There was zero interest from my part toward the assistant when all of my devotion belonged completely to Lysandra.

“Lysandra!” I called her. She continued to run out of the set, pushing past assistants, cameramen, and eventually the front entrance.

As she drew further, I pushed myself to run faster.

It’d been raining outside. The moon had been completely hidden from our view as dark clouds stood above. Their cotton figures were heavy and charged as they let out a downpour. The stars in the Heavens were invisible. The cobblestone pathways of the city shone, and the breath that I released from my mouth came out in a silver fog.

With the adrenaline running through me, I was able to reach her and pull her arm. Her body would have slammed into my chest had she not withheld her footing. Lysandra glared at me as she shoved me away from her. I couldn’t help but think she looked adorable as she scowled at me with rain dripping down her face.

My glasses had gotten completely muffled by the raindrops; I yanked them off my face, setting them in my pocket.

Her chest caved in and out as she glowered.

“Are you okay?” I questioned.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She shook her head with a scoff, which seemed like the type of grin a person would show to portray the sadness they felt.

“What’s wrong? Why did you run out like that?” I asked, even though I had an idea as to what had been bothering her. I just didn’t know if my mind had been lying to me. Could she feel the same as I felt for her?

Of course not, stop lying to yourself.

“There’s no point,” she chuckled, I could note the sarcasm in her tone.

She began to walk away; I rushed after her. “Wait.” I pulled her back toward me.

There it was. The way she used to look at me. And suddenly, it felt as though I had been transported back to that rose field, five years ago. A special moment between us two. I knew then that I was at the top of a precipice.

My heart belonged to her and only her. She had kept it in the vaults of her soul all of these years, and I didn’t wish for it back. I only wished for her to remain holding onto the beating organ that screamed her name.

I reached for her face, my thumb caressing her cheek. She looked up at me and I could see the tears already beginning to form.

“Why?” She questioned me. Nothing but fire within her eyes as she swatted my hand away. “Why did you do it? Why did you ruin what we had?”

I should’ve known better. And although I’d tried to let it go, I had never forgiven myself either.

The heartbreak in her gaze, paired with rage, had always haunted me.

The last time she had asked me that same question, I hadn’t been ready to respond. I let her walk away. I wasn’t going to let that happen again. The space between us was killing me.

“I didn’t mean to,” I exasperated. There was no excuse; I wouldn’t give her one. I was honest when I told her that back at the auditorium. I would fight in the first lines of any war, I would spend every dollar of this world, and I would give every day of my life to prove to her that I regretted it all.

“I waited for you for years,” she cried. She was beautiful even when she cried, but it broke me just how much I’d been the object of her tears.