Chapter 4: Twist of Fate
Eli's POV
The fog still hovered just below the ground as I distanced myself from the edge of the bridge. My whole body yearned to edge nearer; I could feel the sensation of death so close, within my reach, and yet I couldn't die, not yet.
The pit of my stomach still ached with suspicion as I analyzed the situation over and over again. Yet, when I truly thought about it, I realized that every element added up. Drew had dated Bianca De Sousa for awhile now.
That was the girl that skipped class to smoke under the staircases, the girl who I had seen purchasing drugs outside of the Dot once. She clearly came from a background that could easily include gangs, and, being her boyfriend, it wasn't unlikely that Drew could get caught up in trouble like that.
Sure, there was always a chance that Drew had planned for this, predicting my thinking process to be somewhat like it was now. However, I doubted this, knowing that Drew's brain had never struck me – or frankly, anyone – as overly developed.
In fact, Clare had once been his tutor . . .
I pushed the thought of way. One thought always lead to another, and her name in my head would not lead my conscious anywhere good.
It was too late, though, for the syllables were already resurfacing in my mind. Clare Edwards.
The name was so beautiful to me, even now as it tore my heart to shreds in slow moments of agony. The pain never subsided really. There were times when it felt more pronounced, but no matter where I hid, it was always there.
There was only one true escape, only one that would take me to a place where I couldn't hurt anymore. I wouldn't hurt, nor would she. Clare could move on with her life . . .
The images flashed through my mind. She would fall in love again someday, get married, have kids. She would move on without me.
For a moment, the agony was so powerful that it seemed to blur the lines between mental and physical pain. I clutched my stomach, doubling over with a strangled yelp, and for a moment, it seemed that, despite my promise, nothing could stop me from throwing myself from the edge right at this moment.
Instead, I threw myself to the ground, enabling the future my body had wanted for a moment there.
Patience was hell, but it would be worth it in the end.
xXx
I had the urge to say goodbye to her, not in a way that implied that I would be dead soon. But I couldn't leave this body without touching her one last time.
I wanted so badly to press my lips softly to hers, to hear her sigh, and tangle my fingers in her soft curls. I wanted to gently cup her cheek and tell her that it would all be okay now. I wouldn't hurt her anymore.
She was so close, and despite the voice in my head that disagreed, my body felt otherwise as I stood up from behind the table.
I was at the Dot; the alleyway outside would be where I would die, where I would lie in a pool of blood while Drew made a clean escape.
I hope Clare didn't see me, but what would it matter when I was gone?
I drew nearer to her. She sat alone in the corner booth, her eyes open, and yet something told me that she wasn't seeing what was in front of her.
"Clare," I murmured, gently touching her shoulder.
She turned, and I saw that her eyes were glistening with tears, sparkling like diamonds. There were glossy lines running down her cheeks where warm water had once been. "Eli," she sniveled, quickly rubbing at her blotchy skin.
"Are you okay?" I asked, sliding into the booth beside her.
She glanced at me before darting her eyes to her lap. "I, wel- . . . no."
I cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to look into my eyes. "What's wrong?" I whispered, softly stroking her cheek with my thumbs.
"I . . . I just," she struggled for words, "I love you."
I'm not sure how my lips new the words before my mind did. Maybe they didn't; maybe they had just needed to kiss her so bad that they would have done it even if she had snapped at me to leave and never come back ever again.
Either way, they crashed over hers only moments after she said the words, kissing her passionately as I let out everything I had been clenching deep inside me ever since she left me.
And she was kissing me back, our lips moving in ways that I never remembered them moving before. She wasn't as careful as I remembered her to be, but I liked it – no, more than liked it; I adored it.
And, just like that, the past disappeared. All of the pain was gone with one brush of her lips, and although I knew there was something I knew I needed to be aware of, I couldn't quite remember what it was at the moment.
