The Prelude of Ella and Micha (The Secret 0.5)

“Your mom couldn’t fly.” Balancing, I inch my way across the beam toward her while trying not to look down at the deep water—reality—below us. “What are you on?”

“I took one of her old pills.” She tips her head back and rain showers across her face. “I wanted to see what it was like for her.”

“Your mother didn’t know better, but you do.” Gripping onto the metal wire above my head, I reach my other hand for her, my fingers trembling with the fear that I won’t get to her in time. Stay calm. Don’t panic. Just get her off of here. “Now come over here. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

“I don’t know if I can.” She gradually rotates around and faces me and my fear escalates. God, please, please don’t let her fall. Please. “I’m not sure if I want to.”

“Yes, you do. You’re stronger than that.” I move closer to her, reaching for her, needing her. Right now. “Please, just get over here.”

Her body leans and starts to drift to the side.

A part of me dies, right there on the bridge, a part of me I’ll never get back.

“I swear to God, Ella!” I shout. “Give me your hand!”

She abruptly snaps out of her trance then stands up straight and grasps my hand. As our fingers entwine, I pant heavily. I just came so close to losing her, and I’ve never told her I love her.

I can never lose her.

I need to tell her I love her.

Once I get us both off the beam, I circle my arms around her and clutch onto her with everything I have in me. “I’m never going to let you go. I love you. Please, don’t leave me,” I whisper so soundlessly the pitter patter of the rain swallows up my voice. Leaning back, I smooth her wet hair out of her face and speak lucidly this time. “Don’t you ever do that to me again. I can’t do this without you.”

“Micha, I …” She slants her head back and blinks against the drizzle of the rain as she peers up at me. “I’m sorry.” She embraces me back, her arms wrapping around my waist. “I didn’t want to think anymore. It was just too much, and my mind wouldn’t slow down. But it’s all right now. I can think clearly again.”

“Next time come to me, don’t just run. Please. I know things are hard right now, but it’ll get better. We’ve always made it through every single bad thing thrown at us.” I summon a breath, preparing to say what I needed to two weeks ago, the most important thing I will ever say. “Ella, I love—”

Her lips crash against mine, and moments later, our tongues tangle as our bodies align. She kisses me wholly. She kisses me for the first time. Right there in the middle of the rain.

I try to tell myself the moment is perfect. That everything will be okay. That it’s the most mind-blowing, life-changing kiss I’ve ever experienced. And it is. But, it’s also the most heart-wrenching, soul-breaking kiss I’ve ever had and will ever endure.

When she pulls away, I can see exactly how not okay everything is with her. With us. Exactly how imperfect the moment is. Because it’s only a fragment of my Ella looking up at me, one that doesn’t want to be here. With me. Be here at all.

I want to say something perfect that will fix this.

Want to say anything.

But there are no perfect words.

I’m not sure if anything will be perfect again.

I won’t stop trying, though.

Ever.

Until I bring my Ella back.

Chapter 12

Ella

The morning after Micha talked me down from the bridge, I wake up in my bed with the soft scent of his cologne filling my heart. I’m wearing his T-shirt, and my hair smells like rain.

“What happened?” I mutter as I sit up, running my fingers through my tangled hair. My entire body aches almost as much as my soul. “Something happened last night. Something’s different.”

Faint memories of a breathtaking kiss surface along with the haunting image of a bridge. Then a much darker, hazier image emerges. Me in a car. Warmth. Fear. So much fear that it makes me feel terrified right now. Fogginess fills my head, yet somehow, my vision is crystal clear. I know what I have to do to survive.

I need to leave everything behind.

This house.

My dad.

This town.

Micha.

Shaking thoughts of my best friend from my mind, I drag my ass out of bed and rush to pack some clothes into my duffel bag along with my sketchbook. I leave most of my stuff behind, not wanting to take anything that will remind me of myself on this journey.

I also grab my acceptance letter from underneath my pillow and scrounge the house for what cash I can find, adding it to my own pile. It’s not much, but it’ll get me a bus ticket to Vegas and a new start.

I don’t tell my father good-bye before I leave the house. I don’t want to see the hurt in his eyes anymore—hurt him more.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I hike down the driveway toward the street. The sun is rising, the sky painting the land an orange pink. It’s my final sunrise in this town, my final everything of this life.

As I reach the end of the concrete, I pause to glance back at Micha’s house. A small part of me begs to go there, whispers that I’m leaving the love of my life behind.

“I’m sorry for breaking our pact,” I whisper as I turn away. “But it’s for the best that you stay away from me; otherwise, I’ll ruin you, too.”

The aching still remains, though, even when I head down the sidewalk and away from the sunrise, leaving it all behind just like my mother did. Through the pain, I keep going, telling myself it’s for the best.

If Micha really is the love of my life, I’m doing him a huge favor.

The best thing I can do for him and everyone else, including myself, is leave.

They’re much better off without me.

Chapter 13

Micha

After I get out of the shower, I tug a clean shirt over my head then grab my car keys and wallet. I spent last night at Ella’s house but barely got any sleep, too riled up and worried to shut my eyes. Before the sun started to come up, I snuck over to my house to clean last night’s rainstorm—and memories—off me. But I’m ready to get back to her, worried to leave her for more than a few minutes.

I grab extra clothes to take with me. Last night, I made a promise to myself that I was going to stick by her side until we got through this. She’s not going to be alone in that home. She’s going to know that she’s loved. By me.

After tossing the extra clothes and my cologne into a bag, I race out of the house and across the driveway. When I reach the fence line, I pause. Something feels off. Different. Wrong.