STILL IN THE PAST

JOSH

Laura had fallen asleep on the couch, her face soft and

unguarded, and for a moment, I just stood there staring at her. She looked so peaceful, so much like the girl I used to know, the girl I used to love-no, the girl I still loved, though I had no right to.

I bent down, sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back. Her head lolled slightly against my chest, and my breath caught. The last time I held her like this, she'd been laughing at something I'd said, her arms looped around my neck, and I'd felt like the luckiest bastard alive. Now, she was asleep, bruised, and too damn light in my arms, like the weight of the world had chipped away at her piece by piece.

Her scent, faint and familiar, hit me as I carried her upstairs, and it was almost enough to undo me. I'd been avoiding her scent for months. It was in every corner of her house, every damn memory I couldn't shake. I didn't deserve it anymore, didn't deserve her. I laid her down carefully on the bed, tucking the covers around her. For a moment, I just stood there, watching her breathe. She looked so small, like the fight had been drained from her, but I knew better. Laura was a fighter. Always had been.

I turned to leave, but her voice, barely audible, stopped me.

"Josh?"

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I'd imagined it. But when I turned, her eyes were

said,

"Can you stay?"

first instinct was to say no, to protect her from the mess I was, but then I saw the way her lips trembled,

said, my

pulled off my shirt and jeans, leaving just my briefs. The thought of being this close to her, this vulnerable,

touch her, but then she shifted closer, her back

me. I closed my eyes, my face buried in her hair, and let myself pretend.

wasn't. And it

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STILL IN THE PAST

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thought about the last time I'd held her like this, how her laugh had felt like sunlight. I thought about the look on her face when I told her the truth, the

hated myself more

insecurities drive away the only person who ever made him feel whole. And now, here she was, broken and bruised, and it was all I could do to hold her and hope that maybe, just maybe, she'd find it in

and for a second, I thought she was awake. Her

after everything? Did she still hate me as

my heart twisted painfully. I could feel her breath against my arm, soft and even, and it was like a balm

I didn't deserve this. I didn't

Every instinct in me screamed to, stay, to hold her, to prove to her that I could be better, but I knew it wasn't that simple. She might never forgive me, and I couldn't blame her

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