CHAPTER 21
Danica
TWO WEEKS LATER
I woke up and groaned; was it really five o' clock already? It felt as if I had literally just closed my eyes a few seconds ago. I just needed a little more sleep, just five minutes... Well, no, more like twelve hours. But there would be no more sleep today, not even five minutes. If I didn't get up now, I would be late for my breakfast shift at the restaurant. After that, I would have to race to the dance school to work there for a full day. After that, I would have to race right back to the restaurant for the late shift. I would be lucky to get back to the shelter by ten or eleven in the evening... and even then, I wouldn't have time to do anything but shower and then crawl into bed and try to sleep for a few hours before starting the whole wretched routine again. It was utterly exhausting and draining, but what else could I do? I had nothing left, just a couple hundred dollars to my name and a handful of cheap clothes. That was all I had in the world, and the only way I was going to keep the wolf from the door was to work these mad hours, day in and day out. At least I had a day off in ten days' time... that was something minor to look forward to.
And weekends? What were those? It seemed like years ago that I’d last had one. Even though I didn't need to work at the dance studio on weekends, I had taken on full weekend shifts at the restaurant. I had had to; when it came to working low-paying jobs like the ones I had – the only ones I was qualified to do – the only way to make more money was to work more hours. And if I had to work crazy hours to get myself out of this mess, that's what I was going to do. Hell, I had put up with eight years of hardship up to this point, so what were a couple more going to matter?
As I heaved myself out of bed and stumbled over to the bathroom to go wash my face, a memory hit me – and it hit me hard. I remembered waking up in Remy's warm, huge, comfortable bed, feeling so safe and loved in his arms. I remembered his manly smell, the gentle smile he wore on his face when he slept, the feeling of security I felt when wrapped in his strong, muscular arms...
No. No. No.
It was useless to think of memories like these. All this was going to achieve was to make me feel even more miserable. There was no point in thinking about this. It was the past, it was over, and it would never happen again. I had to be realistic about things, and as much as I missed him, it was over. He and I were over, forever. It was better that way, and it had to be that way. He didn't need to be dragged down into this trash heap that my life was.
I forced the memory out of my head and then began getting ready for a yet another long and difficult day.
AT THE RESTAURANT
“Gosh, this breakfast shift is a killer,” grumbled Tessa. “I hate being up this early, and the customers can be such jerks at this hour as well.”
“Can you blame them?” I said. “They've had to wake up early, drag themselves out of their nice warm beds, after not having nearly enough sleep, fight the crowds of other miserable people shuffling off to their slave labor jobs...”
“Aw, Dani, you're still feeling really stressed out about everything, aren't you?” she asked.
I nodded glumly. “Yeah. Things really aren't going that well. I feel like a zombie. Every ounce of passion seems to have been drained from me. I just can't bring myself to feel any more. It's like I've become dead inside, totally numb. I don't know how I can go on like this.”
“Isn't there anything that makes you feel good, that makes you feel alive? Something you can focus on, like a beacon of light, to get you through this challenging time?”
There was... I was just too afraid to admit it to her, to myself. But there was. Remy... Memories of him popped into my head even during the most trying of times, and the memories of the times we had and the laughs and passion we shared ignited the flame of hope inside me. I knew that I didn't want to bring him into this mess though. But... Could I admit the truth about these feelings to myself? To Tessa? Maybe I had to.
“I miss Remy,” I blurted out. “I miss him so much, and thinking of the good times I had with him, and how we felt about each other, it's about the only thing that's getting me through all of this. Even though I know that those times will never be repeated. They're gone forever, nothing but a memory now.”
Tessa looked up at me, and her eyes were full of a deep and intense compassion. “It doesn't have to be like that! You haven't even given him a chance! You just wrote him off without even letting him know what was really going on.”
“I don't want to drag—”
“Stop saying that, okay? It's a lame excuse. Just give him a chance, damn it! You owe it to him, and you owe it to yourself. And if he turns and runs when he finds out the truth, well then, he was the wrong guy for you anyway, and you'll know it was all a big illusion. But maybe he won't run. Maybe he won't judge you. Maybe, just maybe, he'll love you even more. If there's one thing I've learned in life, Dani, it's that when you experience a connection like that with another human being, you don't just throw it away because times got tough, because you got into a little trouble. No, you hang onto it with every damn ounce of strength you have! You fight for it until the bitter end – and I'm sorry, but you didn't put up a fight at all. You didn't even throw a single punch. You just gave up. So, I'm standing here as your best friend and giving you some tough love. Stop acting like this. You love that guy – now stop this addiction to your own misery, and go out there and give him a freakin' chance, dammit! Come on!”
I nodded – there was nothing I could say in response to all of this, really. She was right. I hadn't put up a fight. I hadn't given him a chance at all... and it was time to fix that.
I got out my phone and typed out a message.
Dear Remy, I've been thinking of you a lot recently. I miss you – I miss us. I've realized that I didn't even give you a chance... I didn't fight for us, I didn't give us a chance. I would really love to see you and talk, if you're not too mad at me. Let me know... - Danica.
I breathed in a deep breath, and then hit “send”.