Chapter Nineteen: Memories.

My eyes water as I see the New Year approaching. Every time the hand of the clock ticks, my heart sinks a little lower, making me feel like I'll never be the person I'm working to become. One year ago, I met Jake. And now a year later, we're strangers. As I stare at the fireplace, I think of how we decided to be each other's New Year's Eve kiss after only knowing one another for a couple of hours. Of how if he were to be here now, he wouldn't kiss me like he did last year. Nonetheless of the present, if love at first sight were to have a literal definition, it would be Jake and I crossing stares that night. Feeling the world flip as I forgot of everything and everyone except for him and the flutters and shivers my body was experiencing as our eyes were locked, mesmerized by each other.

After his drunk dial, he never called or texted me again. I didn't make any effort, either. I thought I should just let him deal with anything and everything alone; my involvement would have just made things worse. I've been visiting my psychiatrist every business day of the week, working on myself. Yesterday, she congratulated me on my quick, successful progress and I felt accomplished. Even Mom and Dad have told me I look healthier, but it's not their words I want to hear, it's his. And today, faced by the reality that I won't hear them, I don't feel accomplished nor healthier.

Carter plops next to me, offering me a drink from his can of beer. "Hey, you thirsty?"

We've been each other's company during this holiday break since he's single again. I never really got to know if he and Abby were a thing or just a fling, though. However, even though he's back on the market -- per say -- he hasn't made any effort to find someone else. I've tried to keep things light, I've been working on new improvements for the store and site, continuing the upcoming winter/spring line as well as keeping up with the sales and some new advertisements. Since Carter took the holiday break off from work, he's been helping me with the packaging and sending of the orders. It's nice having some brother and sister time. It's a distraction for both us.

I side-eye it, considering it. "No, thank you."

If I didn't feel so nostalgic, I would have agreed but drowning the feeling with beer and getting possibly drunk -- like Jake did -- won't help me much.

"You looked kind of lonely staring at the fire while everyone chats and laughs." Carter takes a sip of his beer, his arm going over my shoulder and resting on the couch.

"It's hard to be jolly when all you're reminded of is painful memories," I murmur.

"Sky--"

"He called me," I interrupt. "Drunk. Telling me how I did that to him." My vision clouds with unshed tears and I take a deep breath. "I thought that after a worked on myself I could get another shot. But after that call, all I can see is him celebrating New Year with someone who didn't and most likely won't hurt him like I did."

Carter doesn't speak, just pulling me closer to him. It's an unexpected outburst but he knows I'm just a couple steps away from giving up because of the hopelessness I've felt after my and Jake's conversation. He knows I'm blaming it on my bipolar disorder. He knows me that much. Before, I thought I could be granted a second chance but, now, it doesn't seem like a realistic thing to hope for. And it frustrates me not knowing why I've started to feel that way after that Christmas Eve call between us.

"I'm going to go to bed." I announce, standing up.

"New Year's five minutes away." Carter tells me in a poor attempt to convince me to stay.

I shake my head. "If anyone asks for me, just tell them I had a headache and went to bed. Feel free to knock, if anything."

I leave, walking upstairs to my room. I close my door, removing my shoes. My actions almost seem robotic as I gather my hair and enter the ensuite bathroom to remove the bit of makeup I had applied earlier. Sleep is the only thing that appeals to me right now. Blocking everything and everyone, again. It's like I'm back to square one and the amount of progress I've made in nearly two weeks has disappeared. After washing my face and drying it, I take my medication out from the cabinet. I drop the tablets on my hand, gulping them down with the water bottle I leave in the bathroom.

My cellphone is resting on my nightstand. I turn on the screen and look at the time as it turns from 11:58pm to 11:59pm.

I open the text message bubble, tapping on the old chat box to begin typing my last text message of the year.

It's been a year since I met you. Sharing these past twelve months with you was amazing. Thank you for all your kisses, hugs, laughs, cuddles and I love you's. For your friendship, for being my best friend. For loving me like no one other than my family has. For teaching me my flaws should be the least of my worries.
I'm sorry for the pain and heartache I made you go through. Today, it's my biggest regret and mistake. I wish you the best in this new year. Continue to be the great and unforgettable person that you've always been. I'll be watching you from afar, seeing you excel as an artist and continue to be successful in what you love and was born to do. I'll always be a fan, cheering for you from wherever I am.

Wish you the best, now and always. Love,
Sky.

Right as I tap "Send", cheers and shouts erupt from downstairs as the clock hits midnight and the New Year arrives. I receive it alone, dropping against my bed as I cry. Mostly because I wish Jake was here to hold me and kiss me but also, because I just realized I'm starting a new year, new beginning without him in the map. It sinks in. How out of my reach he really is, not only physically but emotionally. I don't hold any grip on him anymore and that's hard to accept when I was hoping for a second chance.
I know he won't reply to my text. Again, he hasn't called or texted me since the drunk dial, why would he now? A simple thank you is all I can expect as an answer.

I lock my phone, putting it back on my nightstand before crawling under the covers as a ball. The act brings flashbacks and reminds me of my teenage years, being undiagnosed, having episodes where I just wanted the world to swallow me whole and make me disappear as I cried all of my emotions into this same pillow. Some things don't change, I guess. But unlike those episodes, this time I know the reason of my suffering and this time it was me, not my brain. Maybe things did change but, only slightly.

• • •

JAKE

"You've had me in fucking standby for two weeks," Ethan hisses through the phone. "This... it doesn't make my work look good, Jake."

I rub my forehead, trying to get rid of the headache I have in results of last night's too many New Year shots. "I know," I grumble and don't bother apologizing. It's of no use with my brother. "I'm still thinking about it."

"You told me the same fucking thing two Thursdays ago!" He raises his voice and I flinch, sensitive to his loud voice. "You're not the only one interested in the damn property."

I can't help but raise mine, also, regardless of my head's condition. "I don't want to give it up, okay? I want to move in but, I don't know if I can live there without seeing her in every fucking damn corner of the penthouse." I say, "You, more than anyone, know she was the reason I was interested in it in the first place. She was the reason I decided to make the move of getting it in my hands before anybody else did."

Even though Ethan's work is Maine-based since he lives there, he helped me find it. The penthouse was supposed to be Sky's Christmas present but, we never made it that far. As much as I loved living in Sky's apartment and the coziness it projected, I wanted to find something safer and bigger for the both of us. Now, it's too big for me and it constantly reminds me of my solitude more than Ethan has tried. He doesn't know why Sky and I are no longer together but he knows enough on his own to decipher it was her doing. The older brother protectiveness he's had over me since I was born has never faded. It only became stronger when Mom and Dad died. Since Sky was the one to cut things off, I know his mind is starting to try to plot points that will validate his recent suspicions of Sky only dating me for my money. But, I know it was never that way. No matter how good of an actress Sky could prove to be, I know that every single second, minute, day we spent together was never forced nor faked. In fact, sometimes I felt like Sky reciprocated her love for me more than I did with her.

It's been hard trying to move on, especially with the media on my shoulders. Sky and I were somewhat controversial for several reasons; keeping our relationship a secret the first fifth months, her not being famous and her hospital admission. The media has started to write about our breakup without either of us confirming it. It only took a couple of solo outings by me and Sky's absence in social media for them to begin. I've avoided reading any articles and have tried to continue my life for their eyes. Behind closed doors I can't help but, show how much I miss her. I got my rose tattoo at the age of twenty, oblivious to Sky's existence. It wasn't my first tattoo though but, now, its petals only remind me of her. It's as if I had gotten the tattoo for her and not because one LA night, I was grieving Mom and Dad's departure and wanted ink as a distraction.

Regardless of the sloppy state I was in, I know I called her drunk the other night. I don't remember the entire conversation but one phrase has stuck out the most out of all the words that were exchanged between us.
"I'll take it as long as you don't keep doing this to yourself."
Those words led me to end the call. They tugged at my heart. Knowing she was so willing to make herself bear more emotional pain than the one she is feeling, made me feel like I was suffocating.

Ethan's voice reminds me of our still ongoing conversation. "It's been three damn minutes and you haven't answered the damn question, Jake."

"I didn't catch it. Can you repeat?"

"Are you that hungover? How much did you fucking drink last night?"

"Are Jen and the girls not near. You're on full swing with the curse words today." I smirk. "What a way to bring the New Year."

"I'm not in the mood for your smart-assery. So, answer the question so I can end the call." He sneers. "Are you going to keep it; yes or no?"

I stay silent longer than necessary just to fume him even more. It's fun doing business with your older brother, especially when you're the client.

"Yes. And by the way, that's no way to treat a client. I'm filing a complain."

---

The words from her text have been imprinted in my brain since I read the message. The fact that I was surrounded by drunk, nosy socialites didn't stop me from unlocking my phone and reading her text as soon as my phone vibrated with its arrival. As much distance as there has been between us, everyday, I still find myself unconsciously anticipating a call or text from her, even though, I don't return her actions. I don't know where Sky is planning to go with us. Clearly, we're not together anymore but is she going to pursue a chance of us reconciling or are we done for good? I don't want to search for her affection, only to have her pull out again. We're both in vulnerable positions right now.
I've never doubted Sky's feelings but, now, that she's more insecure of herself, I can't really be so sure of her. I wish she hadn't become so insecure. Otherwise, we wouldn't be playing this version of cat and mouse we've created.

It's a few days away from being a month since her major episode and our breakup. I miss her. Terribly. I want to move on, but I can't. No matter how much I would like to. There's this something that stops me from doing so. That something made me call Carter -- the day after receiving her text -- and persuade him into texting me little details of how she's doing weekly. Last week, he told me she's doing a lot better mentally and seems more comfortable. I know she misses me as much as I miss her and I also know that if I keep letting Sky call the shots, we'll never work things out.