But I found no pleasure.
I found no sanctuary.
Because I was alone.
Della was my home. She was it for me. She was my everything.
And I’d always known she’d leave me eventually—as she should. As it was meant to happen when a kid outgrew their mentor. I used that excuse over and over.
Me leaving her was merely quickening the inevitably of her leaving me.
But it didn’t stop the pain.
It didn’t stop the regret.
It didn’t change the fact I no longer had the most important thing in my life, and I was slowly dying without her.
* * * * *
That first day, I didn’t get far.
Trees weren’t just landmarks guiding me deeper into their midst, but supportive friends, holding me up as I stumbled beneath heartbreak.
I’d travel a mile with my thoughts full of disgust at my response to seeing her naked. I’d stride onward with fists clenched and teeth clamped against nausea for ever thinking about Della the way I had these past few years. I’d punch a sapling for the lust masquerading as love and beg for a way to be free—to somehow find simplicity again.
But then, my thoughts would change, and all I’d see was the little girl I raised. The sweet, trusting blue eyes gazing at me with uncomplicated love as I brushed her blonde hair or fed her a piece of crisp apple straight from the Wilson’s tiny orchard.
My confusion would vanish, and I’d backtrack at a jog, staring at the city line below where Della existed without me.
She was my responsibility.
She was mine, and I’d left her all alone, undefended, uncared for.
Who did something like that?
Who put themselves first when their entire life had been wholeheartedly promised to another?
I’d hate myself the most in those moments.
The moments where my love was once again pure and full of self-sacrifice.
I was being an ass.
I was reading into things that weren’t there.
How the hell did I think I could abandon her?
She was my kid.
My best-friend.
Fuck, she needed me, and I ran away like a thief. A thief who stole her protection, familiarity, and comfort all because he couldn’t handle his own demons anymore.
I thought I’d protected myself from the vile whispers in my head. I thought I’d found a suitable outlet for the prohibited dreams about a blonde goddess who kissed me, loved me, and told me it was okay to fall and fall hard.
The one-night stands had helped curb my desires but each one left me emptier than before. Each one, I itched with guilt. Each one, I thought of Della.
Della.
Della.
Della.
Fuck…
I couldn’t do this.
I couldn’t leave her alone, unsafe, uncherished.
But as I’d race to the edge of the wilderness, riddled with remorse, and inhale the stench of cities and humans, I’d freeze.
Flashes of naked skin and come-hither eyes would turn my body traitorous.
And I’d remember all the mistakes and sexual tension that’d been building between us for years. I’d finally admit that the buzzing awareness was more than bonded connection but unpermitted chemistry.
It wasn’t right. It wasn’t allowed.
Della was no longer a little girl I’d die for.
She was a young woman destined to kill me.
Kill me with the absolute unacceptable ability to switch my pure love into dirty lust and destroy any chance at being close again.
On the fifth time of returning to the forest’s edge and getting nowhere, even while covering more miles in one day than I’d normally do in two, I had to stop.
I had to admit that I’d left to save her.
I’d run because what I was feeling wasn’t fair to her. I’d promised to pave her future with everything she could ever want, but by staying, I was confusing her.
She owned me heart and soul, but she needed more than me.
She’d always needed more than me, and the countless times we’d grown up together, the many incidents that proved just how much I lacked and she excelled, meant my determination to do the right thing was a vicious dictator.
I’d been with her every step—literal and figurative.
I’d stolen a lot of her independence.
I’d been the one smothering her, and of course, her feelings toward me would morph into something neither of us could have.
She hadn’t had the freedom to learn who she was without me there to teach her. I’d screwed her up. I hadn’t been fair. I’d been selfish and possessive, ensuring I was the most important person to her—just like she was to me.
That was wrong.
I saw that now.
John Wilson was right. I’d ruined any chance at keeping her as my sister, and now, I couldn’t have her at all.
I’d promised to raise her to the highest heights she could achieve, and I’d sacrificed everything I could to achieve that.
That was all this was.
My final sacrifice to ensure she’d forget about this puppy crush, delete her teenage confusion, and find true happiness.
She’d no longer be brainwashed or subconsciously pick up on my corrupt thoughts. She’d be free to make up her own mind.