Page 53 of The Last Kind of Kiss
I don’t want to live the rest of my life without you, but I don’t know how much more my heart can take.
18
A PICTURE-PERFECT INTROSPECTION
BRISTOL
Even though hours have passed since Lila left, the crying has continued like a positive feedback loop, and I’ve done nothing but ruminate until night has smeared itself across the bleak sky. I can’t feel anything anymore. I thought that talking things through with Lila would make me feel better, but all it’s done is left me more confused than I was before. How could I have been so worried that she wouldn’t understand? What does that say about how I see her? She was so understanding, so supportive. And I…I feel like the biggest idiot on the planet.
My lungs are nothing but prunes from dehydration, and my throat buckles underneath the unspoken weight of remorse, no longer fighting to produce the sobs that were probably heard from blocks away. I brush my thumb over the faded polaroid pinched between my fingers, staring down at the little square that epitomizes my fondest memory of Summit—a picture frozen in time, with her as the centerpiece as I kiss her on the cheek.
It was the moment I asked her to move in with me because Hayes was moving out. It was the moment I knew that our futuretogether was going to be promised. She was at the point of tears, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at the picture. She’s—it’s inexplicable, but she’s glowing. The full beam splitting her lips should provide a similar kind of warmth in my heart, but it doesn’t. No, the photo is…uncanny. I want to remember her like this—unflawed and unapologetic—but the only way I remember her is her cold, lifeless body in rigor mortis on the mortuary table.
Now, instead of joy glimmering in her eyes, she stares back at me like a blurry creature on a trail camera, curdling my meager breakfast in my nauseated stomach. She haunts me. Thispicturehaunts me. I should feel comforted by the memories I have of her, but I don’t. All I can remember is how untimely her demise was.
I’m sorry I let you down. I’m so sorry, Summit. It was my job to protect you. You would still be here if it wasn’t for me. Please forgive me.
I know that Lila said it wasn’t my fault, but I think a little part of me will always believe that it was.
It feels like I’m tainting this polaroid with my mere touch, like how one would dirty a flower’s petals with the oil from their fingertips. With a plateauing breath, I let the picture fall from my hand, watching as it flutters to the floor under the guise of darkness. Strobes of moonlight feed through the slats of my blinds, playing with shadows to sculpt her countenance in a monochrome of blacks and whites. My eyes are clouded with an overflowing well of tears, and as my panic begins to ripen, I fumble around for my phone, needing respite more than I need my next dose of oxygen.
When I finally manage to open it, I navigate to my photos, immediately clicking on an album that’s titled LILA. Even though we parted ways a year ago, I kept every picture I took of her. I couldn’t force myself to delete them, much like I’ve beenunable to force myself to get rid of Summit’s engagement ring. Call me sentimental or a dumbass, but erasing a piece of them is like erasing their memory completely.
My photos of Lila range from hilarious to downright gorgeous, with her fashioning a floor-length dress in one to her fashioning adorable bedhead and a drool-stained nighttime shirt in another. She’s so goddamn photogenic, even when she swears she’s not.
I don’t…I’m not replacing Summit, am I? Fuck, it feels like that. That’s not my intention. They’re two different girls. I want to start this new chapter with Lila, but I’m not ready to move on from the cliffhanger of my previous life.
The longer I scroll through Lila’s photo album, the further my heart seems to burrow into the chrysalis that’s formed in the very pit of my chest. A transitional period where lethargic beats should be able to heal, but it feels like a dismal purgatory more than anything.
There’s a sudden knock on my door that sounds eerily loud in my ears, and it breaks the trance I was in.
“Bri? It’s Hayes,” a voice says quietly, tone colored with poorly veiled worry.
I turn my phone off and throw it somewhere to the side, groaning as I mentally prepare myself for whatever motivational speech my best friend is about to give me. I appreciate his concern, I do, but talking about my problems is the last thing I want to do right now. What’s the harm in ignoring them until they go away?
“Yeah, come in,” I mumble, wiping away the slow drying, still-wet evidence on my cheeks.
Hayes pushes the partition open slightly, leaving some distance while he leans against the doorframe, the breadth of his shoulders blocking most of the hallway’s light. “You’ve beenin here a long time. Me and the guys were just worried about you.”
“I’m fine. I was just…”
“Reminiscing?”
I can barely look at him. “Something like that, I guess.”
Out of the margin of my eyesight, I can faintly see Hayes’ lips swerve into a frown, and I can tell that he’s holding back whatever it is hereallywants to say to me. For fuck’s sake, he’s toying with his words like a cat batting around a ball of yarn. When I inhale, brimstone fills my nostrils.
“What do you want, Hayes?” I ask a little more forcefully than I intended, discreetly shuffling my foot over the polaroid and sweeping it beneath my bed. I’m not sure how much illumination the moon offers, but I hope it’s not enough for him to pick up on the rather pathetic state of my appearance. The week-old food rotting in my room and the unwashed pile of clothes towering in my closet is already enough to warrant a full team inspection.
“I, um, I just wanted to know how it went with Lila.”
What am I supposed to say to him?It went great, Hayes. She kind of ended things with me but also didn’t? She was obviously upset that I kept this whole thing a secret from her, and now I’m somehow more lost about what I want to do with my life. Moving on with Lila seems like a slap in Summit’s face, but hanging on to Summit seems like a slap in Lila’s. I know I should’ve brought the ring up, but I didn’t think it was necessary because it would’ve only hurt her more.
I trust Hayes with my life. I wouldn’t be able to function without his constant stream of support, but to admit that I somehow managed to fuck up again? It’s embarrassing. It’s ridiculous. Why can’t I just solve things myself without dragging everyone I care about down with me?
God, I feel like I’m about to puke. “Uh, she was veryunderstanding” is all I disclose, staring down at the worn floorboards that groan beneath my weight.
Hayes cocks his head in confusion. “That’s good news, right? So why are you…sulking in the darkness?”
