Page 80 of Sage Haven
Because here, in this dim room humming with life, I could almost believe the past hadn’t hollowed me out.
Almost.
But even here—even standing in the thrumming heart of the music where bodies swayed like one living thing— I couldn’t outrun him.
Reich.
That name carved itself into me, a brand that refused to fade.
I shouldn’t feel this way.
Not after everything I’d survived. Not after Klay. Not after clawing my way out of something that nearly broke me beyond repair.
I shouldn’t have space left for another man.
Reich shouldn’t be the shadow under every thought, the beat beneath my skin, but he somehow was, and I hated him for it.
But I hated myself more.
He had made his stance clear.
And yet, I still felt his absence like a phantom limb.
A wound that refused to close.
Why did I still want him when he so clearly didn’t want me?
I tried to shake the thought and tried to lose myself in the music, in the rush of strangers pressing close, their bodies warm and wild.
Fake it till you make it. That was my mantra for the night.
Pretend I didn’t care.
Pretend he wasn’t there in the back of my head, like an echo I couldn’t silence.
I was getting good at lying to myself.
But deep down, I knew the truth.
It wasn’t just about him.
It was about what he made me feel.
That momentary flicker of connection.
The spark that had set something inside me alight, only for him to douse it the second I reached for more.
And still, I wanted it more than anything, even if it destroyed me.
Sam tugged at my hand, pulling me through the crowd.
We threaded our way past groups pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, bodies swaying in a synchronized rhythm that vibrated through the floor.
She left to go get drinks, settling into our routine at concerts.
I would hold our spot while she went to grab refreshments, while I waited for her to return.
The music was deafening, a storm that consumed everything else.
