Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

A/N: I hope you guys like this! It just came to me out of the blue when I was thinking about how Kaya must've felt when Eric left her. Some of you might've read some of this story before, and that's because this is the edited verson. Its been edited a lot of so might want to read all of it again. :) I don't have a beta yet so I apologize for the unintentional typos etc. Anyway thanks for reading guys, and please review! It would be much appreciated.

[1]

I swallowed, trying to dislodge the sudden lump in my throat. Eric had said he'd be here and he wasn't. Something was wrong. Change was coming. I could feel it. It wasn't a pleasant prospect, not when life was perfect the way it was.

I turned to my mirror and stared at my withdrawn reflection. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't manage to relax. My eyebrows stayed lodged in a worried line over my anxious muddy hazel eyes.

I turned away and tried to get a grip of myself when a soft knock sent my heart thudding against my rib cage. I flew to the door; I had a little trouble with the simple dead bolt, but I yanked the door open at last, and there he was: Eric, my personal miracle. All the agitation dissolved as I looked at his face, calm taking its place. I breathed in a sigh of relief – all that worrying seemed very foolish with him here.

"Eric!"

But when I looked at his face closely, I felt a brief shiver as something icy twisted in my stomach once again. His expression was all wrong. It was strangely blank, like he wasn't there. Which was certainly a cause for alarm because whenever Eric walked into a room, the air around him changed. The air wasn't changing today.

I remembered our conversation on the phone. We need to talk, he'd said. But about what?

"What's wrong?" I asked Eric anxiously.

"Nothing," he muttered, his voice stripped of all emotion, his face tense. I closed my eyes and tried to believe him. It was nothing, I told myself repeatedly. And yet, I feel a spasm of pain in my chest.

"Is everything all right at camp? With the coaching?" I asked softly, trying to fill up the silence.

Something unrecognizable flashed in his eyes. He seemed to be torn by some internal dilemma. "Everything's fine."

So why the suddenly visit? I wanted to shout because along with the fear, I was beginning to feel impatience. How long could this last?

"Do you mind coming for a walk with me?" he finally asked.

I swallowed hard. "Of course not."

"Now?" he pressed.

"Sure." I kept my voice even, through I didn't like the urgency in his tone. This is bad, this is very bad, the voice in my head repeated. I wanted it to shut up.

He pulled me along toward the east side of the yard. I followed unwillingly, trying to think through the panic. Eric and I will get through this together, I told myself firmly. We loved each other, we had each other; nothing else mattered. So why was the panic choking me?

We'd only taken a few steps past the nearest park when he stopped. I could still see our houses. Some walk. Eric leaned against a lamp post and stared at me, his expression unreadable.

"Okay, so let's talk," I said, sounding a lot braver than I felt. "What's biting you, Eric?"

My mind ran away with itself. Had he fought with his parents? Had he quit his coaching job? If that was the case, he could stay me, and he knew that. So what was the problem? I wondered desperately, trying hard not to pay too much attention to the sense of dread that was threatening to engulf me.

He took in a deep breath and sighed heavily, closing his eyes, as though he was asking for patience. "Kaya, we can't be together anymore."

"Sorry?"

His eyes opened. "We can't be together," he repeated. Each word was separate. Distinct.

I shook my head back and forth mechanically, trying to clear it. It took me a few minutes before I could speak. "Eric," I whispered. "I don't understand."

A dozen emotions played across his face now. Some I recognized: anger…pain….sadness… "I don't love you anymore, Kaya."

There was a pause as I repeated the sentence in my head a few times, trying to absorb what he was saying. "You…don't…love me?" I tried out the words, feeling a sudden ache in my ribs.

I was surprised at how calm and reasonable my behavior was, of how I wasn't breaking down, crying and begging. It must've been because I was so numb. I couldn't understand what he was telling me. It still didn't make any sense.

"I…" he paused. "No."

I stared at him, uncomprehending, and he stared back, his eyes hard, clear and very deep. I felt like I could see into them for miles and miles, yet nowhere in their bottomless blue depths could I see a contradiction to the words he'd just spoken.

Reality was catching up fast, hard on my heels, gripping my wrists. .

"But you promised!" A note of hysteria entered my voice as awareness began to seep through me, trickling like acid through my veins. I wanted to sound angry, but it just sounded like I was begging. "In Mexico city, you promised that you would stay with me forever!"

He took another deep breath and stared at the ground for so long I wondered if he was going to ignored me. But then he finally looked up, and I felt my stomach and chest tighten even more. "I know but I realized…" he frowned, his face still rigid. "I can't let that stand anymore, Kaya."

"Don't, Eric." My voice was just a whisper now "Don't do this."

He just stared at me, and I could see from his eyes that my plea was far too late. "I'm sorry, Kaya, but I just… This is the end."

His words flew around my ears like mosquitoes, diving and threatening, before they bit me. And then they bit me. I looked at Eric and he looked at me. As our gazes met, something stirred inside me, something that began to claw its way toward the surface, something I didn't want to face. The waves of pain that only lapped at me before now reared up high and washed over my head, pulling me under.

This is the end.

I felt the smooth road beneath my knees, and then the palms of my hands, and then it was pressed against the skin of my cheek. I was vaguely aware of Eric's alarm as he broke his stiff posture to reach for me. Dimly, I felt his worried hands on my back. My basic human instinct made me hang on to consciousness even though it would have been a blessed relief to let it go.

Before I could sink any further, I scrambled to my feet and lurched my way across the road, ignoring his calls from behind me. "Kaya! Wait! Please."

With shaky legs, I began to run, rushing past the old houses and empty roads. I had to keep moving because if I stopped to look back, I wouldn't have the courage to let it all go.

And anyway what did it matter? Love, life, meaning…all over.

I only realized where I was heading to when I reached Mercy. Forcing a deep breath, I pushed myself into the small restaurant and sat by the counter, listening attentively to the wind rattle the window panes.

Time passed even when it seemed impossible. I stared at the clock by the entrance – at the tick of the second hand, which ached like the pulse of blood behind a bruise.

An hour passed unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, and finally I understood why I'd come here at all. This was where it had all started; it seemed ceremonial to make my goodbyes here, too.

I thought I would be finishing it alone, but at precisely that moment, I heard the door to the restaurant open again. My heart leapt, but not because I thought it was another client. I knew exactly who it would be.

Eric sat across from me and kept his hands, palms down, on the table between us. "I thought I'd find you here," he began softly.

I ignored him.

"I know you don't have any reason to listen to me."

You got that right. I clamped my jaw, flat and numb, before I allowed myself to look at him.

He forged ahead. "But I feel like there's something I need to set straight before I leave tomorrow."

My chin trembled.

He let out a long breath. "It won't take more than a few minutes, I promise. I'llbe the one doing all the talking, and all you have to do listen, okay?"

He took my silence to mean 'yes.'

"When I coached in Baja a summer ago, I met this girl called Bridget. She was young, she was beautiful and she…" He looked up at the ceiling for help. "She turned my life inside out that summer. I'd never met anyone like her. I was so insanely attracted to her, we ended up having…" He trailed off.

I sucked in a little breath.

"She was only sixteen at the time but that didn't stop me from doing what I did. I was older – I should have resisted her. But I wanted it just as much as she did, and that was wrong." He looked sad. "Anyway, we parted, time passed and then I met you. I fell in love with you, Kaya, because you were different, because you were so patient and kind, and because you could sing and play the guitar so well, I could just spend days on end listening you. A few weeks ago, I really did believe that you were mine."

I swallowed. Big, fat tears quivered in my eyes.

"But I met Bridget again this summer – after almost a year," he sighed. "And the reason I told you that I couldn't love you anymore was because it seemed wrong. And the reason it seemed wrong was because," he hesitated, "I knew I couldn't really love you if I felt something slightly bigger for someone else."

I was going to cry soon, and I wanted to get away from him before I did. I got up to leave but he took hold of my hands and pulled me to him. He put his palms on either side of my face.

"Please, let me explain," he said, desperate. "This has nothing to do with you, Kay. All right? Bridget was sick and I nursed her and then…" He closed his eyes. "And then as I held her, there was this moment when I felt everything she had been through and I had this idea that if I could make her happy, then I could be happy, too."

He was telling me too much!

I let out an orphan sob, a small release as I struggled to hold in the rest. It seemed to me that I was suffering everything of death except for its merciful dying.

"Kaya, I've broken your heart and I owe you an apology. No, of course not. I owe you much, much more than that. But you will go along, I know you will."

I felt dizzy. I could hear the blood pounding faster than normal behind my ears. I tried to breathe calmly. I needed to concentrate, to find a way out of this nightmare.

Eric's grip on my chin tightened. "Kaya, listen. Someday, I'll see you again maybe, and you'll be this great musician, I can bet you will. And you know what? You will meet someone worthy of you, someone who loves you, someone who'll worship the very ground you walk on. I'm no good for you, Kay – you deserve so much more."

I needed to get away. I pulled myself away from him and hid my face. "I have to go."

I wondered what he saw on my face because something flickered across his own. "I'll take you back home." He reached for me.

"Don't bother," I whispered, pulling back.

His face fell.

"Kaya, please," he said softly, and I realized that he wanted to say more. To take my apology, to offer absolution, to simply say good bye. "You have to –"

I shook my head, frantic, desperate to escape the pain. "No, don't," I murmured, and before he could say anything else, I fled the room.

Instead of going home, I walked behind the building and onto the beach that spread north. I ripped off my rubber band and let my braid unravel as I began to run, the wind chafing my face and torso. I ran until I could hear the roaring music of my own heart; until it was impossible to catch hold of a breath, much less my emotions.

Then I sank down to the sand, lying on my back while I gasped. I stared up at the bruised blue of the evening sky and let the tears finally come.