As I shampooed my hair and washed my body, I thought of Jace. He was all I ever really thought of anymore. His mouth. His touch. His ice blue eyes. He might have walked out of my life, but he still owned every crevice of my heart. I feared he forever would.
I hadn't spoken to Jace in seven weeks. But that didn't stop me from listening to the melodic sound of his voice that lived in my memory. And, I might not have seen him in seven weeks. But I knew what was going on in his life. He was Jace Rush. And his adventurous accomplishments were always spread on Google for the world to read about - for me to read about. I had to admit, I was, in some sick way, obsessed with him. I couldn't leave my bedroom without first checking Google for any 'Jace Rush' updates.
After leaving me alone with my shattered heart seven weeks ago, Jace had left New York for his trip to Paris. I surfed the net constantly for any proof that he might be as destroyed as I was inside, but there was none. Jace was still as well put together as he always was. His hair impeccable, his body toned, his eyes piercing. He was the epitome of utter perfection and I was the fucking epitome of disaster. Jace moved on with his life as though I had never held a place in it. And that devastated me - demolishing what was left of my heart. As far as I knew, Jace was in Ney York City again. But I hadn't seen him. For that small grace, I was glad. If I seen Jace, I knew I would spiral into a depression I may never climb out of. He had given me a reason to live and love - a reason to believe in something I had never been strong enough to risk. And then he'd left me without a fight. He had just walked away. But I had told him to.
In all honesty, I knew I gave him little to no choice that night. When I asked him to go and never return to me - I had meant it. I hadn't wanted to see him again. I believed, although I knew it would be difficult, that I would get over him. I thought in time, I would find a way to appreciate the memories he left me with. I hadn't been prepared for the feelings of utter desperation that consumed me only hours after his departure. I never thought it was possible for me to need someone this way. As though they were the air I breathed…the blood in my veins…the beat in my heart. Jace was all of this to me. He was my life. It was no wonder I was slowly falling apart inside, wasting away to nothing. I now fully believed in what I had always thought impossible; I knew without a doubt, I could die of a broken heart.
***
I opened the door of my bedroom to find Moo-moo curled against the frame. He opened sleepy eyes and meowed, pulling a smile from somewhere deep inside of me. It was real and humble. As of late, only Moo-moo was able to elicit a smile from me. I knelt, patted his head and walked into the kitchen. I had already checked Google alerts for anything new on Jace. There were none. He was leading a pretty boring life as of late. The usual parade of girls adorning his image in photos had dwindled. He was all about business and no pleasure. But that didn't mean he didn't have another woman bowing to his whims. She could be in the background, a means to an end for him. The thought drilled another hole into my heart and I held my chest tight in response to the pain. Oh, there was so much pain.
I clutched the countertop as I gasped for breath, trying and failing to push Jace from my mind. He had no right claiming me this way. His memory had no right to halt my life from continuing like normal. Anger sparked in my chest and I knew this was a cycle. It was familiar. I went through it every day. I knew the anger would only last a few short minutes before the pain dulled the flood of emotions within me, voiding me of anything and everything that made me appear human.
I pushed from the counter, dished Moo-moo his canned breakfast and started making coffee before the pain swelled within me again. I moaned into the silence, leaning over the sink as I heaved dryly.
"You're sick, Liv." Trisha's tired voice assaulted my senses and I groaned. "You need help."
"No," I moaned. "I just need him."
"Then call him." She sighed and suddenly her hand was on my back, rubbing away the build-up of stress. "Call him." She said forcefully and I flinched.
"I can't." I shook my head, feeling nauseous. I wasn't in the least afraid that I might actually release the contents of my stomach. I felt the need to throw up, but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had nothing in my stomach to empty. I barely ate a cube of cheese a day. I simply couldn't stomach the feeling. It was awful.
"You can." Trisha's hand moved up the length of my spine. Her touch was warm, pulling beads of sweat from my hairline as I tried to shrug off her touch. She refused to be moved. "You can't go on this way. You need to make a decision, Liv, because I can't watch you do this for much longer. It's been two months!"