Putting down my phone, my eyelids get heavy and within seconds, I’m fast asleep.

I hear my panties rip and his hand touching my body. My body is shaking from fear and I can’t see through the tears rushing from my eyes. He has me on my stomach and he’s gripping my hair. I feel his tongue licking my body and I shudder, trying to pull away, doing everything I can to get away from him.

I can’t see his face. He ties my hands together behind my back and has complete control. No matter what I do, he has me tight in his grips. Eventually I give up and stop fighting.

“Good girl,” he whispers, touching me, invading me, “I can’t wait to feel you.” He violently pushes himself inside me. Screaming and crying only encourages him to inflict more pain and he drives deeper.

“Stop,” I mutter.

I scream in agony and feel arms pulling me up from my bed and into a hard chest.

Tyler.

“You’re okay. I’m here,” he coos, rubbing my back. As soon as I feel his touch, I’m calm and my breathing is steady once again. His scent wraps around me, clean and freshly showered. I love the subtleness of his cologne, Acqua Di Gio.

Pulling away from him, I feel his fingers wiping away my tears. The softness of his touch and the closeness of his body makes me feel like I can breathe. I feel my chest tighten knowing he’s always going to be there, but then the tightness grips my heart and I’m suffocating.

What if one day he’s not here?

When I look up, I see the smile that I love so much. It’s the worst feeling in the world, knowing you love each other and can’t be together. Every touch, every kiss, every time you feel him inside you, every laugh, every smile-those are the moments that you keep and you push away the moments when you felt dead and broken. It’s too painful to be without him. I need to learn how to live on the memories we had, what we were.

“Hi,” I breathe, holding his hand, “sorry you had to see that.” I pause and cock my head to the side, “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I was at the door when I heard you screaming, so I used my spare key and came inside. I’m sorry if you’re upset I’m here.”

The hesitation in his voice hurts. I try not to flinch. Resting my hand on his knee, I stroke it with my thumb, reassuring him I still need him. “No Ty. I’m not. Thanks for waking me up.” I show him a soothing smile and scoot off my bed. “Let me shower and get ready. Want to get breakfast? I feel like getting crepes.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan. I’ll wait downstairs for you.”

“Okay.” I watch him leave and head to the bathroom connected to my bedroom. Turning the knob to the faucet, cool water fills the sink. I take a handful of water and splash it on my face, waking me up, and bringing me back to reality.

People say that when bad things happen, we have to let that go and try to move on and live again. They don’t talk about the long road of healing and the nightmares that follow. They don’t talk about how your whole life changes and you become someone you don’t know or love. There’s a healing process and everyone handles trauma in their own way. These people say with time everything will be okay and one day we’ll be strong and be able to move on. I think that those people never experienced what I did. It’s all bullshit. Life is fucking unfair and targets good people who have dreams and goals. Life doesn’t give a shit about you. It’s all a game of tag. Tag, you’re it! Now your life is going to suck and you’re going to be alone.

When I close my eyes, I see his face and smell his breath. His words refuse to leave and are resting inside my head. It plays on and on. It’s a never ending nightmare and I can’t wake up. No matter what I do, no matter whom I talk to, he’s the one I see, feel and hear. I feel his hands grasping my neck and weight against my body.

I pinch my cheeks and force myself to look in the mirror and repeat what I’ve been repeating every day. “It’s okay,” I tell myself, “you’re going to be okay. Every day you’re getting stronger. Even though this is a setback, it doesn’t mean you’re going to fail again.” Pressing my hand on the mirror, I stare at my reflection for a moment longer. “Do you hear me? You are going to be make it through this and you are going to be okay. It takes time and soon all this pain will be worth it.”

Finishing my shower and putting myself together, I walk down the stairs and through the foyer to find a cup of coffee and a single yellow rose sitting on the counter. Lifting the rose to my nose, I take a deep breath and let the fragrance sink in. Looking around, I don’t see Tyler. Grabbing the mug, I walk outside to the deck and see him by the tire swing.

“Hey,” I shout, getting his attention, “thank you for the coffee and rose.” He smiles in response and I sit on the tire swing, waiting for him to push me.

Feeling his hand on my back, feeling the slight push he gives me, I spread out my legs and bend them back when I’m swinging backwards. It’s peaceful out here with him. We aren’t talking about the breakup or when we’ll get back together. No. We’re simply enjoying each other’s company and living in this moment.

“I can’t believe it’s already August,” I say, sipping on my coffee and bringing the rose to my nose. That’s Tyler’s thing. He brings me a rose at random times. I never know when I’ll get one. When we were dating the roses were red, and now I get yellow roses. “Only like five more weeks of summer.” Stopping myself from swinging, I turn around and face him. I can’t read the expression on his face or see his eyes behind the sunglasses.

“Yeah, it’s crazy how we didn’t get to spend a lot of time together,” he mumbles.

Needing to change the topic, I get up and reach my hand out for his. “Still up for breakfast?”

“Sure. Whatever you want,” he answers, and takes my hand. It’s a perfect fit and if things were different, we’d be together.

Holding her, feeling her, comforting her, is what’s keeping me here. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her. When I got back home from California a few weeks ago, I wasn’t ready to see her right away. I took a vacation to New York City with my mom, to get away and refocus. Since our breakup, we only talk here and there.

When she sent me the breakup letter, I went home that weekend to make her see the mistake she had made. I left the next day, feeling emptier. I worked my ass off and refused to come home. My mom came to California to visit. She understood and asked me to come home for Christmas. I did and instantly regretted it. After that argument, I decided visiting home wasn’t smart, so I stayed away. As hard as it was to be away from her, it gave me a better insight. If I keep pushing her, making her be the same Bayleigh that she was before, I’ll lose her.

The thing about being friends is, the more time I spend with her, the more I fall deeper in love. I’ve been back for three days and this is the first time I’ve seen her since our falling out. It’s hard to forget the way her looks make me feel or how her lips curve into an innocent smile. The way she smells attacks my senses and her skin is creamy and soft like I remember. Her body is more toned and her legs, damn her legs, are still long, tanned and shapely. She’s always been a fitness junkie, but after that night, she put her focus into kickboxing and lifting instead of strict cardio. She looks great and I can’t help myself thinking about her and having her again. But it’s the way she looks at me with her big, hazel eyes, that gets me every time.

When she finishes her coffee, we head to my Jeep and I drive the short distance to Simply Crepes.

”Are you still a health freak?” I tease her, opening the menu and wanting to devour everything in sight.