The Heartbroken - S01 E183

Story 2 years ago

The Heartbroken - S01 E183

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 183

“That’s exactly why I left!” He took a

deep, shaky breath and furiously

wiped his tears with the back of his

hand. “I knew you would have

stayed, that you would never leave,

even if I tell you to.”

“What else would I have done?” I

snapped.

We both paused at my outburst. We

both stood there, looking at each

other’s tear-streaked face, feeling

like we were breaking in a tiny

million pieces with every ragged

breath.

It felt as though all the layers we

put around ourselves were

unraveling and we were spinning

back to the night he ended

everything between us. After all the

steps we’d taken, we wound up

here and it was cruel to think of all

the time we wasted travelling away

from each other only to find

ourselves rooted in this moment.

We both stood there in the cold

night air, staring at each other as

we let all the words we’d said and

even the ones we hadn’t to sink in.

When he spoke again, his voice

was nothing but a slight murmur.

“I can’t let you go through the

same thing twice.”

“That’s not your choice,” I said.

“You know that was never your

choice.”

“You don’t deserve to go through

this again,” he said. “If I knew,

eight years ago, that I would end

up like this, I never would have

wanted to be a part of your life.”

“But you are a part of it now,” I

snapped, “and I wouldn’t have it

any other way.”

He blinked thrice and looked up,

pinching the bridge of his nose in

an attempt to stop the tears from

falling.

Eight years ago, he was the boy

who helped get over my father’s

death. Now, he was the guy who

broke my heart just so I wouldn’t

have to deal with the same pain

again. He was the guy who broke

his own heart more than he had

broken mine when he said the

words “I think we should break

up.”

I swallowed back a sob and tried to

be stronger, to be that girl who

didn’t need to be protected from

this, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy,

but I didn’t care.

I took his hands in mine, covering

his cold fingers with my cold

fingers, wishing his broken heart

would sense my broken heart,

letting his tears and my tears fall in

the same place.

“You’ll get better,” I whispered to

him. “Tell me you’ll get better.”

“Kyla, I can’t….”

“Tell me you’ll get better.”

He let out a strangled noise and the

sound was so overwhelmin I had

to swallow back a sob of my own.

Before I knew it, I was already

rising on my tiptoes, softly

murmuring, “Who said you would

never be that guy again?”

Then I pressed my lips against his.

—

Cedric kissed me back.

He pulled me closer as he brought

his hands to my face.

Our lips moved slowly at first,

gently, and I could taste his tears

and feel his fears, and everything

that ever happened between us

became irrelevant.

I let one hand rest on his

collarbone and the other sought

out a familiar spot at the back of

his neck. He took in a sharp breath

at the contact, and I knew he must

thought back to all those times I’d

placed my hand there.

The kiss grew deeper as he buried

his hands in my hair. He let his

fingertips trail lightly against my

scalp and I felt the goosebumps

rise at the back of my neck. Our

tongues met, moving tentatively at

first before settling into a dance

that we both knew by heart.