Ever since I met him, I've imagined sleeping in Roman's arms. It's supposed to be the best sleep in the universe.
I was wrong.
I found myself tangled in eerie dreams that made me toss and turn, sweat, and moan Roman's name all night.
Roman reaches across a wooden table and grabs my hand. His white shirt's sleeve has coffee splatters. I shake my head; I can't help him...
Suddenly, the table is gone, and lights twinkle around us. I'm standing on a dance floor. Roman's jaw tightens when he sees me across the room. He looks good in a tux—so good that it aches my heart.
People with ballgowns around us disappear when I turn my head to stare at our twined fingers against a yellow stone wall. Roman's gold wedding ring shines under the moonlight. The cold, grainy surface I'm up against hurts my back but I'm too busy drowning in his kisses. Guests' distant voices are mixed with a waltz. Fireworks crack above a forest and light up the night sky as if celebrating our reunion.
A golden chandelier flickers in the study we are standing in. It smells like old books and antique furniture in here. Roman's face is all red and twisted with rage. He slaps my hand away from his arm. There's a diamond ring on my finger now.
The study is gone. Roman and I are in a bedroom, and he bends me over a bed I'm sharing with someone else. He lowers my panties and caresses my hips. My heart is beating frantically. A part of me wants Roman to stop, but I can't... I've missed being one with him. I missed my other half so much.
I'm shivering in my bed.
"Roman," I moan and reach for him in need.
He tears me from his arms and rolls me over. His breath tickles my cheek. His thin lips are leaving kisses across my face.
"I'll see you soon, Abby," he says softly.
I reach forward to stop him, but my hand falls on the mattress.
"Don't go," I'm begging Roman on my knees in a parking lot. People around us are are rolling their suitcases, rushing through the gates of an airport. Roman has whites in his hair, but his frown is still the same.
"Roman..." My hand glides on the sweaty sheets. They smell heavenly.
This must be hell. Roman is screaming at me. Again. He's driving a sports car and I'm sitting next to him. We're climbing a sharp hill that leads us to his summer house—the one we've been sharing on and off for the last three years since his divorce.
"Enough!" I scream back at him. "I'm tired of fighting, Roman!"
"Then stop acting like a child!" He punches the gear and kicks the gas. The car rockets forward with a roar.
It's one of those fights that shouldn't matter. But it does. It always does. Last week, it was about the way I greeted his business partner. I made eye contact with him one second too long. Three days ago, it was my high heels. How dare I reach his height? Roman needs to be at least two inches taller than me at all times. Today, it's work. My own production company demands my attention. But Roman needs me to sit through yet another dinner with his sponsors. Because my company is small. It's so tiny that it's a joke to him.
What he doesn't understand is that my business is mine. It may not be successful. I might not have the best clients. But I built it. And it's mine.
I clutch onto the grab handle when Roman hits the brakes. We are skidding on the pebble road.
Why aren't we slowing down?
I catch a glimpse of his tense face from the corner of my eye. The car keeps gliding forward.
Roman reaches for the handbrake, and pulls it up. Hard. His jaw is clenched. His neck strained.
The tires screech. And we start spinning.
The mountain view and the sky blend together.
Holly fuck. We are spinning!
We're spinning!
"Roman!" I cry.
My head thuds against the window. My heart jumps to my throat.
Roman grasps the steering wheel. His arms stretch forward to regain control.
We are drifting toward the edge of the cliff.
"Roman!"
Can he hear me? Because I can't hear anything.
The grainy road is slipping under us... Fast.
The barrier bordering the edge tears open. Our car trembles, and our heads hurl forward with the impact.
I hold my breath.
All I see is the baby blue sky...
The tires stop touching the ground. And time stops for a split second.
This is it.
I know we're going to die. I know this is the end. My mind should be running wild right now. But it's blank. It is completely, utterly, and terrifyingly blank.
My eyes meet with Roman's caramels. He holds my hand.
And then... Our free-fall begins.
Our hearts are one and thumping together. Our fingers twine for the last time, but him and I will be twined for an eternity.
We are falling...
I open my eyes with a gasp and sit up in bed. My face is covered in sweat. I press my hands against my throbbing heart. My eyes wildly search for Roman.
But the apartment feels cold. He is gone.
I wipe the sweat off my neck and shake my head, but I can't shake the impact of my dreams. They felt so real... The coffee stains, the ballroom, the car crash, and the fall...
I need to hear Roman's voice. I need him to tell me that this was nothing but a stupid dream. That he'll leave Tiffany, and we'll be together.
Reaching for my phone with shaky hands, I dial Roman's number. He picks up after a few rings.
"Abigail," he says in a whisper. His footsteps are hitting some wooden floor.
Why is he whispering? Is he with Tiffany? Did he leave my bed to be with her? He told me he'd figure things out—
"Abigail, talk to me." The swishing of curtains is followed by the sound of sliding doors. "What do you need?" His voice sounds freer in open air.
I miss him already.
My hand is shaking. Tears sting my eyes.
"Roman..." I gulp. My face feels hot. "I need to know—"
"I know you're scared. But I won't leave you. Trust me. We can do this," he says and I shake my head.
"Did you leave my apartment to break up with her?"
Romans' sigh rustles through the line. "I'm in too deep with this arrangement, baby. There's a very delicate balance here. If I step down now, they'll come after my seat. The magazine will never reach its full potential. Everything I've worked so hard for will be for nothing."
A couple of tears burn my cheeks as they fall. I wipe my runny nose with the back of my hand. "I see."
"You don't. Abby... Baby... I meant every word when I said I'm in love with you. We can make this work."
I wipe more tears and suck a shaky breath.
"Abigail, say something."
My face is on fire. I shake my head. Feeling the air circulate around my cheeks helps me cool down a little. I close my eyes and choke on my words. "Goodbye, Roman."
My phone falls on the bed. The bedsheets crunch under my fists. My heart is breaking... I can't breathe.
How is this fair? I found my missing piece, a part of my soul, in someone else. Without him, I feel hollow, like an empty shell. A galaxy without stars. I thought he felt the same way...
My phone chimes with a text. 'I love you. Wait for me.'
I pull my knees into my chest and bury my head between them.
"You'll be the end of me," Roman said in bed last night, and... he's right. We can't keep following this path. There'll always be pebbles on this hill we're climbing. His job, his title, his fiancé, his anger, our insecurities... The barrier we've lifted between our souls will end us, if we don't end us.
My shoulders shake with sobs.
I can't be the other woman...
I can't take this road.
The sun is gone, hiding behind a cloud, when I wipe my puffed cheeks with the back of my hand. My eyes hurt. The world is blurry. I feel less than human at this moment. Miserable, torn, and half. But I wipe my eyes anyway and get out of bed.
I have to let him go.
First, I ball the sheets into a corner. Then I get in the shower and scrub the marks of our love-making from my legs, neck, breasts... When the smell of wildflowers replace Roman's scent, I step out and stuff the bedsheets into the washing machine.
"Okay," I whisper to myself. I'm going to be okay.
I need to get out of here. If I stay, Roman will be back and we'll spiral back to each other until we die. We'll never be able to stay apart unless I leave. I have to leave...
Taking out a backpack, I start filling it with random clothes—jeans, sweaters, socks, underwear, a toothbrush... I pack my laptop and set everything by the door.
It feels like I've run a marathon in the last twenty-four hours—slaving myself in the kitchen, partying with random girls, and having mind-blowing sex with Roman. My legs feel weak. I need to sit down and take a moment.
After filling my flask with coffee, I sit on the couch and rent a car from an app. It's parked two streets away and ready for collection. Sinking into the soft cushions, I sip from my mug. I swear, coffee is the best medicine for a dark, wounded soul. The heart-shaped, ruby necklace on the coffee table shines into my eye—Nate's present.
A lump forms in my throat. Last night could have gone differently had Nate come alone. But I wouldn't change anything about my night with Roman... It's going to be our last, anyway. It has to be.
I tie the heart-shaped necklace around my neck, take everything, and close the door behind me.
I'm ready.
I'm going home.