The doors open before Kohen has a chance to respond and like the socially inept person that I am, I flee without saying anything else. It’s better for him if he thinks I’m strange, then any interest he has in me will disappear. I don’t need to start anything with Kohen, well anyone for that matter, especially Jax. I deserve to be alone. I like it. I need to continue with the life I made for myself. I learned a long time ago that I can’t trust myself, let alone anyone else. Nobody would want the real me anyways.

I almost reach the doorman when Kohen comes running up to me. Just keep walking. Ignore him.

“Want some company while you run? I’m the perfect workout buddy.”

Why can’t everyone just leave me alone?

“I actually prefer to run by myself,” I answer in a bored tone. Finishing my bitch act, I pat his shoulder while I patronizingly say, “But, hey, no hard feelings, you can try that line with the next chick you see.” I turn and walk away. “Thanks for the offer,” I toss over my shoulder before leaving the building.

I head across the street to Central Park with the heaviness of despair coursing through my veins. Later on, when I’m back to myself, I know I’ll feel guilty. I make a mental note to apologize to Kohen the next time I see him, which should be easy considering we live in the same building.

I slide my phone out of my armband and I click on Marilyn Manson’s Sweet Dreams, before putting it back. As the music blares I wonder what sick fuck sent me those flowers. It couldn’t be any of the guys. They know better than that. So if not them, then who? I turn the music up and I finally get the chance to do what I’ve wanted since the flowers arrived at my place . . . escape.

Chapter Five

On my third mile through Central Park I slowly allow the memories to roll in. Whenever I let the memories come back it reminds me of the person I once was, everything that I lost, and why I don’t deserve happiness. This is why I continue to put myself through this unimaginable pain, so that I can never forget, so that I can never be happy. I don’t deserve to be happy.

There is only one memory that I can never relive . . . the day I lost everything. Whenever that memory comes barreling through, it feels like I’m in the ocean with the waves crashing down on top of me, the surface always out of reach. I pant, on the brink of collapsing into despair.

I stop running and use all of my energy to push that memory away. I can taste metallic even though I haven’t cut my mouth . . . the memory is that strong. Breathe in . . . out. Bending at the knees, I take slow calming breaths. When the white spots fade from my vision, I run again. The surroundings of Central Park change from pavement to grass; soon it’s as if I’m seeing my old backyard with the swing, and the Olympic-size pool my parents had built for my tenth birthday, to a memory that I’ve repressed for far too long, tugging at my consciousness, reminding me of time I thought was lost . . . a happy time with Hadley.

“What’s wrong, Hads?” I ask my frowning baby sister.

With fresh tears in her eyes she mumbles, “I can’t come to your birthday party.”

“Why not?” I sit down beside Hadley on her bed. I nudge her with my shoulder when she doesn’t answer. “Come on, you can tell me anything.”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” She hiccups.

“Promise.”

She twirls her thumbs. “Everyone is going to make fun of me because I can’t swim.”

A laugh escapes before I can stop it. “Sorry,” I say when she glares at me. “Nobody would dare laugh at you, Hads.” Even though I know she’s lying, I still tell her to put her suit on.

“No!”

God, even at six she’s stubborn. “Come on Hads. We have two hours before anyone gets here. That’s more than enough time.”

“Enough time for what?” she asks cautiously.

“For me to teach you how to swim, obviously!”

She’s jumping off her bed and racing towards her dresser before I can even finish my sentence.

“You really mean it?” she asks as she starts to put on her bikini.

“I can’t have my favorite person not at my party.” Her smile is breathtaking. She’s going to be a heartbreaker when she’s older. I actually feel bad for all of the boys.

“Really?”

“Of course.”

Within an hour, Hadley is swimming better than Ariel the mermaid. I know that swimming wasn’t really an issue since I’ve been working with her on her skills all summer. She was worried that I was going to ignore her; all she needed was some one-on-one time with me.

“Ready for the party?” I ask when it’s obvious that she doesn’t need help at all.

“Can we swim some more before everyone gets here?” Hadley ask as she paddles away from me.

“Of course!” Logan yells before jumping off the diving board to join us.

Dad takes a picture of the three of us in the water. When he sets down his camera, I get a brilliant idea. And by brilliant, I mean hilarious.

“Dad can you look at my finger? I think I have a splinter.”

“From swimming? Doubtful,” Logan says. I wink at him and he catches on immediately.

Logan climbs out of the pool as our dad comes closer to the pool to inspect my finger. Logan circles behind our father. When Dad gets to the edge of the pool, I kick off the wall in perfect timing with Logan.

“Andy!” our mom shouts from the doorway as Logan pushes our dad in.

We’re all laughing when our dad surfaces.

By my fifth mile, I force myself to turn around. Swimming used to be the most important part of my life. At age ten, I knew that I was destined to be a swimmer. There’s some days where the pull to be in the water again is so fierce that I find myself itching to smell the chlorine-filled room, but I’m never able to open the door. I haven’t allowed myself to touch the water, even with my toes, ever since I tried to kill myself five years ago.

Finally reaching my apartment building, I force all of the memories away. I need to face the mess I left up there and hopefully Jax won’t think I’m a total lunatic. As I press the elevator button, I find myself questioning my sanity and Liv’s. Maybe she’s as crazy as I am for thinking I can move on with my life. I can’t even receive Stargazer Lilies without a meltdown. Maybe with time I can prove her right, or I’ll just prove my new theory of us both being out of our minds.

I’m surprised to find Jax pacing my living room. The second he notices me, he rushes to me. Right when I’m about to open my mouth to ask him why he’s still here, I realize that I smell . . . bad. Holy B.O. I need a shower, quick, if I’m going to be around him.

“I need to jump in the shower . . .” I hesitate. I want to ask him to stay, but I don’t have the right to ask.

“I’ll be here when you get out,” Jax says, reading my mind like always.

I return his smile before making a quick dash to my bathroom with the single thought of my Midnight Pomegranate body wash from Bath & Body Works. I smell so ripe there could be a rotting corpse in my apartment and you couldn’t tell the difference. Okay, maybe not that bad, but close enough.

I turn the shower all the way to hot before slipping off my Nikes. It isn’t until my drenched workout clothes are on the bathroom floor that I notice my swollen ankle. Because my mind was absorbed in my memories, I didn’t even realize my ankle was hurting while I was running. It’s not the first time this has happened either and I know it won’t be the last.