Fear of Falling(119)

I won’t miss you anymore.

Loving you is what caused all this. It’s what ruined us.

I’ll forget you.

I’ll stop loving you.



I repeated it over and over like a mantra, seeing if it would start to make sense. If the words could somehow form coherent thoughts for me to digest. Because I couldn’t understand. I just didn’t fully get it.

Blaine stopped loving me. For me?

I had really lost him. It was really over. And though we hadn’t been together in months, knowing for sure that he no longer had feelings for me just drove the knife in deeper.

Maybe somewhere in the back of my convoluted mind, I thought we would find our way back to each other. That we were really meant to be. He told me that we were inevitable. That when you knew…you just knew. Maybe I had been holding onto that this entire time.

The thing that probably disturbed me the most was Blaine’s belief that he had failed me. That he was somehow responsible for what happened. The thought of him carrying around that immense guilt, thinking that history had repeated itself, had me choking back a sob. No. I couldn’t let him think that. I couldn’t let him take the blame for my father’s actions.

Blaine was a good man. The best kind that there was. He was the kind of man that women dreamt of taking home to their mothers. The kind of guy that opened doors and pushed in chairs. The kind of man that fairytales were written about and songs were sung for.

And I had pushed him away. I had destroyed the man whose only crime was loving me. All of me—phobias, insecurities, and scars included.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I folded up the piece of paper and slid it back into the Mason jar before setting it on my windowsill. Right next to those little stars, so small and delicate in size, yet the weight of their burden had crippled me for so long. I picked up the glass that contained their cynical smiles and taunting laughter.

Those insignificant little things had held me prisoner for years. And now they had cost me the only man I had ever loved.

I had never hated them more, so much so that I wanted to be done with them for good. It was time. I was ready to live.





The roar of the crowd was louder than I had remembered, though the only thing I could hear was the steady, rapid pounding of my heart. I wiped my sweat-slicked palms on my cotton dress. Shit. My dress was white; I really hoped it didn’t become see-through from the spotlights. Would I look stupid? Would people be pissed? Hell, could I even do this?

Stop it, Kam. Breathe. You got this. Everything else, all the bullshit you’ve been through…it was all for this. This moment. Prove that you’re strong. That you’re a fighter. That you can be fearless. Because if anyone is worth the risk of falling, it’s him.

The sound of Angel’s voice signaled my entrance, and with trembling legs, I forced myself from the safety of backstage. I shielded my eyes to adjust to the bright beam of the fluorescents and stepped forward. Luckily, the packed audience was still too wrapped up in their drinks, food, and conversation to even notice my approach. Good. Maybe I’d remain safe and hidden, overshadowed by the powerhouse that was Angel Cassidy and the rest of the A.D. bombshells.

But Lady Luck was a bitch in too-tight stilettos that liked to do the Electric Slide on my glimmer of hope. The only thing I could be thankful for was the fact that his back was turned. But even in the crowded bar, I instantly zeroed in on his heavily inked arms and messily styled, sandy brown hair. Every synapse jolted to attention then tingled with remembrance. My stomach coiled into a knot that Popeye himself couldn’t get out of. My body knew him, had felt him. And undoubtedly missed him.

Even with the hushed whispers of my return swirling about, Blaine remained in deep conversation with his cousin, CJ. The crowd around them, mostly comprised of scantily clad girls, vied for their attention, yet the pair seemed totally oblivious. One chick in particular was damn near trying to force feed Blaine her tits.

Maybe this was a mistake. Blaine didn’t want me here; he even told Angel that. He was leaving. If he felt anything for me, why would he move to the other side of the world?

The room quieted a decibel when I stepped up to the mic with my guitar, yet Blaine still didn’t turn around. I looked over at Angel, who shot me an encouraging smile with a nod of her head. I shrugged. I was here. Getting to this point was half the battle and I’d be damned if I turned back now.

Without saying a word to even introduce myself, I began to play. At first, the strings felt foreign under my fingertips. Almost like a lover that you hadn’t kissed in ages. But soon, familiarity kicked in, flooding me with feelings of comfort and serenity. Angel was right—this was where I belonged. Nothing made me feel more fearless…more like me. Nothing could hurt me here. That broken girl had been fixed and set free.