Page 133 of Salute, To Bravery
“What’s wrong?” Arlet picked up the distress call that my voice was sending.
“I don’t know. Well, I do know, but I don’t know what to do about it,” I said in one breath. “I think I love her, Arlet, you know how much I’m terrified of being in love. You know I promised myself that I wouldn’t fall in love again. But here I am, breaking that promise after so long.”
Arlet stayed silent for a moment. “She’s not like the others that hurt you. I think you should stay with her. I think youneedto stay with her, to heal. Even if it is terrifying.”
“I know I should stay with her because ‘don’t let fears hold you back,’ but what if I do? What if this is my gut telling me to run?”
“Your gut is never wrong! Your brain is the only one that intercepts those messages, causing some misreading sometimes. I don’t think your gut is necessarily wrong… I just don’t think your mind is understanding those messages.”
“But—”
“No ‘buts’ about it. You need to stay. She makes you happy. You need to get better, you can’t run from this, or you will regret this for the rest of your life.”
“Okay,” I said in defeat.
“Alright,” she said in agreement. “You need to try at least, got it?”
“Okay.” Worry fell over my body. “Okay,” I said, looking over at the peaceful angel.
“Don’t run from this one. I think she will be good for you.”
“Agreed,” I said with tears in my eyes. I can’t believe I let myself do this again. “I broke a promise.”
“It’s okay to outgrow promises. You didn’t break it, you outgrew it. Think of it like that.”
“How are you so good at this? You shouldn’t have been an actor; you should have been a therapist.”
“Only for you will I be a therapist. I would hate to hear people’s problems all day, every day. I want to make people laugh. I want to make them feel something, and that is what good acting is about. Making people feel something.”
“I love you, Arlet. I sure do miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
“Goodnight,” I said.
“Goodnight.”
Part Two.
Chapter Sixteen.
Violet
Two months later.
Ineeded coffee—desperately. My mind was in a fog, and my eyes were droopy. I was up all night overthinking Ophelia’s behavior. She’d been distant and unlike herself. Ophelia was harder on herself now more than ever, and I couldn’t help but think it was my fault.
I went to my car, put the keys into the ignition, and heard a click before the car started. I connected my music to the radio and started my fifteen-minute drive to my favorite coffee shop.
I turned the music to the highest that it could go to distract me from the fact that I was terrified. I was frightened of losing Ophelia, to herself and her thoughts. I was afraid of losing her to my concerns. I didn’t want to lose someone who I was falling in love with. I didn’t know how I could. I’d never been in love; I’d never had a serious relationship like this. But I needed to put myself first, and if she didn’t start communicating with me, I was scared of what this relationship would become.
I didn’t want this to end.
I saw the coffee sign and pulled into the parking lot. I grabbed my bag, keys, and phone, and headed inside. I locked my car once I was inside the building and ordered my normal, iced cherry, mint latte. I plugged in my headphones and put one earbud in so I could hear my order.
After a few minutes, they got my latte. I took a seat and started to work on a few websites. I needed to tackle these websites. It had been difficult to focus with Ophelia constantly on my mind, constantly worrying about her, constantly scared. I didn’t know what she was capable of. But Ididknow that she wasn’t herself.
I shut my computer in defeat and looked out the window.
