XII MORNING GLOOM （AUGUST）

XII

MORNING GLOOM

(AUGUST)

I am the worst human being alive.

I'm not sure I deserve to be called human anyway.

Filth.

That works just fine.

Absolute fucking gutter trash.

I slump onto my bed, staring at what Elle left behind when she fled the room.

No—fled from me.

I drove her away like the absolute blackhearted bastard I am.

I'd ask what the hell I was thinking—except I already know.

I wasn't thinking at all.

I ravaged her as soon as she bumped into me and I saw the moonlight pouring over her skin, turning it to pale perfection, highlighting every irresistible curve.

She glowed so much she barely looked human, so radiant, her skin kissed with strawberry pink on her nipples and between her thighs and across her enticing lips.

I snapped.

Everything I'd been ignoring erupted out of me.

Elle met me halfway, yes.

I certainly didn't take her by force, without her consent.

But the second the red sex haze lifted and I realized what I'd done, panic took over.

Every rotten fuckup with Charisma came flooding back. Every mistake I ever made. Every moment when I was selfish and thought of what I wanted and not what she needed.

I shut the fuck down.

I shut Elle out the same way I shut Charisma out once.

I smothered her warmth, her brightness, and even if she barely said a word, I know, goddammit.

I know I hurt her.

I force myself up, knowing I'll have to face it tonight.

I have to stuff my ego in a box and apologize.

Call Rick to take her home, as I doubt she'll want me to drive her anywhere. I won't force her to stay here tonight for appearances when she'd undoubtedly like to be anywhere else.

I pick up her coat, her dress, her purse, and fold everything into a neat stack before taking it with me as I step out into the hall. But the moment I stop outside the guest room, I know.

I won't be going in there tonight.

I can hear her now.

Crying like her heart's been torn out and stomped with hooves.

My own heart twists violently.

You did that, you miserable fuck.

You did that to her, and you're the last person she'll ever want to see again.

I've never hated my malfunction—my disconnect with others—more than I do right now.

All I want is to comfort her, to make up for this bullshit somehow.

But I don't know how that's possible.

So all I do is touch my fingers lightly to the door, pretending I can somehow reach her through it.

"I'm sorry," I mutter.

I leave her things next to the door where she can easily find them, whenever she's ready.

Before retreating to my room, I peel off my clothes and settle into the chair next to one of the glass walls with a tumbler of bourbon and all the self-loathing I've earned a thousand times over.

I never should have sucked Elle Lark into my black hole of a life.

All I can ever do is devour the goodness in everyone around me and send them spinning away, broken.

I must have passed out in the chair.

I didn't quite get piss drunk last night, but I came close.

Now I'm waking up with a terrible crick in my neck and my entire body knotted up from being slumped in the chair all night. At first, I think I must have knocked myself out until evening from the grey-dark tint to the sky, but no.

It's sunrise.

Something I almost never see, coming up over the horizon in splashes of spreading gold.

I linger on it with my mouth feeling dry and scummy. It's not sour with the booze, rather the bitterness dwelling inside me.

The morning makes me wonder if Elle's light will be dimmer, her sunlit eyes less radiant.

No. Not her.

She might burn less fiercely for a little while, but my shit could never snuff her out.

She's too strong for that.

One fine day, I'll just be one more bad memory she hardly thinks about at all.

"It can't come soon enough," I mutter.

I stand, rolling my shoulders and drifting to the window. If I'm up, I might as well take in this bizarre novelty.

Yet I'm not the only one awake.

When I hear footsteps, I almost retreat.

Elle's up.

Standing outside, where I can just barely see her from my vantage point facing the sound.

She's dressed in that pretty sleeveless dress again.

The morning wind blows it against her and breezes her hair back from her fine-featured face. Her coat and purse are piled on the shore, while she stands in the shallows with her shoes dangling from her hand, her face tilted to the rising sun.

The dawn paints her pink and gold.

Again, I'm struck by that crazy feeling that she isn't fully human.

She's an angel of light captured straight from a fairy tale, and as the sunrise thins the barrier between worlds, she'll fade away like she was never here slumming it in flesh and blood at all.

Ridiculous, I know.

The image punches me so painfully that it wrenches me with longing. I unconsciously reach for her—then catch myself as my fingers hit the glass and remind me she's too far away.

Forever out of reach.

That's for the best.

I pull back with a scorched breath and snatch my phone from the nightstand. I need to let her be free from me, so I dial Rick's number.

Even if I'm not usually up at this hour, he always is, and he's quick to answer.

"Mr. Marshall?" he says, a bit of a rush in his voice. "What's wrong?"

I pause with my eyes still on Elle. "Why do you think something's wrong?"

"It's only seven a.m., sir ..."

A dark, heavy smirk tugs at my lips. "Fair enough. It's simply a practical matter."

"Ah, sure. What can I do for you?"

"Miss Lark stayed the night at my place for appearances. She'd like to go home now to prepare herself before office hours." It comes out so smoothly, this lie, like I'm not asking Rick to bring her a getaway car. I don't expect to see her at the office today either. "She'll be waiting for you outside."

"Understood," Rick answers. "You took the G80 last night, so should I take her in my car or yours?"

"Mine, please. If you leave your keys, I'll take yours to the office and trade with you there."

"Of course, sir." There's a hesitant pause. "Are you all right?"

Damn.

I'm not as good at suppressing my feelings as I thought, if he can sense it.

Once again, my gaze gravitates to that beautiful fairy girl on the shore, soaking up the sun like a morning flower.

"I've been worse," I answer faintly. "But I've been better too."

"Very sorry to hear that, sir. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Thanks."

I hang up and leave my phone on the nightstand, then push the door open on the spray-dampened deck. I don't know why I'm going outside, stepping into the chill morning air, the rising sun blazing against my eyes.

Maybe because it feels like being close to her.

If we can both soak in the sunlight, then in some small way, we'll still be touching each other.

I walk to the deck railing and let myself watch her. I almost never see her without a smile, but right now she's quiet, her lips parted, as much as I can make it out at this distance.

Fuck, I just want her to smile again.

The same way she did with Aunt Clara.

The same way she made Aunt Clara light up.

That's Elle's gift.

I hope she keeps it for the rest of her life.

I don't know how long I watch her.

Rick lives just outside the city, but traffic at this time of morning typically isn't that bad. It can't be too long before I hear an approaching car. Elle doesn't move, even as the grey dart of Rick's sedan slides past and turns into my place.

When Rick steps out and calls out, "Miss Lark!" Elle turns.

She looks back over her shoulder and slowly raises a hand to him before bending to pick up her things.

Then she tilts her head up and punches me square in the chin with one glance.

She knows I'm here, watching her like the emotionally stunted creeper fuck I am.

My heart squeezes into a lump of coal as she stares at me, and the sloshing waves and the crying gulls become part of a hollow silence.

I'm definitely not expecting her to smile, thin and sad.

I don't know how the fuck she can stand it, but she smiles at me for the briefest second, right before she ducks her head and walks barefoot across the sand to meet Rick.

I want to call out for her, but I don't have the faintest clue what the fuck to say.

I'm left alone with my brain spinning, watching helplessly as she disappears from my life and into the waiting car.