Never Stop

19. Via

Chapter nineteen

Via

S hattered.

I sit there for hours, mind and heart obliterated in unison as the tears flow freely on their own accord. I have to continuously remind myself of the reasons we cannot be, which only increases my frustration.

I've lived the past six years of my life broken, numb, and paralyzed in my decisions at the hands of fear. My chance at change, at happiness, tried to fight back for me, and I slammed a door in his face.

I'm a natural fucking hoot.

As the sun passed through the windows, I decided to peel myself off the floor away from the door.

I pick my phone up off the floor. It reads 6:43 AM and has a ten percent battery life.

Against my better judgment of being a respectable human who minded others' personal time, I swipe open my phone and make the call .

Ring. Ring Ring.

"Hello, Via." Her voice greets me cheerily as if it's not first thing in the morning on the weekend, and she's been waiting for my call for hours.

"Hey, Dr. Carr. It's Via Foley."

Wait, she knows who it is; she just said my name. Shit .

"Via, how are you this morning?" She asks, her joyful tone still shining through the line. Sorry to piss on your butterflies and rainbows this morning, Dr. Carr, but I do not share your vibe today, unfortunately.

"I went on a date."

"Oh, Via! That's so wonderful! I'm—"

"It's actually bullshit." I deadpan, causing me to do an internal eye roll at myself.

"Mm…"

"It was a blind double date that Izzy convinced me to go on with her and Maverick." I begin to ramble on, leaving no room for her to get a single word in. "The only plot twist is that the guy they set me up with was Anderson Cole. Do you remember the guy I told you about? Yeah, it was okay. So it was actually incredibly perfect until reality set in. Then, I did what I apparently do best: I shut down and pushed him away. I can't help but think, what if this is a sign? What if this is our second chance? I just quite literally slammed a door in his face. What if I'm the reason my life is fucked? What if my decisions—"

"VIA!"

"… Yeah?"

"Breathe. Count to ten and breathe."

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

"Let's start slow, okay?"

"Mhm," I mumble.

"When you realized it was Ander, how did you feel?"

"Well," I hesitate before I decide to ramble on again. "My initial reaction was shock. I lost it and walked off to collect my thoughts. Then Maverick told me that Ander felt bad, so he made the decision to leave. At that point, I didn't feel anything but panicked for some reason. I rushed to get to him, and I did just in time before he left. We talked. And—"

"That all describes what occurred, but I want to know how seeing him again after all this time made you feel ?" Dr. Carr presses on softly.

With a sigh, I process what she's asking. Only one word comes to mind, so I allow myself the space to speak it honestly.

"Happy. I felt… Genuinely happy."

I can't remember the last time I felt that emotion organically without forcing myself to attempt to feel it. That fact alone is bittersweet. Of course, I'd have it with Ander. Of course, I would .

"Good," I could quite literally hear her smile beaming through the line. Whose side is she supposed to be on again? "How did you feel during the date?"

"Whole," I respond without hesitation, shocking her and myself.

"Now tell me, what happened to ruin all these positive feelings for you?"

"Reality, Dr. Carr. Reality happened."

"Can we be a little more specific, Via?" She chuckles softly, only causing me to roll my eyes.

"Reality set in that even entertaining his company was a bad decision. There's a reason I put distance between us, and I can't allow myself to get drawn to him. Not again."

"Do you fully agree with your own reasoning?"

"That's hard to answer."

"Well, let's make it simple. Lay it all out for me."

"I can't." I huff out frustration.

"Liam?" She asks in a soft voice.

Dr. Carr knows parts about Liam and his controlling and abusive ways. However, she's never been privy to the entire story. I guess my trauma goes deeper than I realize.

I don't respond, and I can tell my silence is all the answer she needs.

"Let me reverse your questions on you, okay? " She said, now speaking more as a question, filled with hesitation.

"What if this is your second chance? What if this is a sign?"

Well, damn.

"Damnit, Olivia, open this fucking door, or I will break it down!" Izzy's voice is firm, and I can hear the frustration laced in her words.

"V, just open up so she can calm her tits. You know how she gets." Dessa says in a softer voice.

I turned my phone off shortly after hanging up with Dr. Carr, and they wouldn't stop calling. I don't have a clock in my room, so I'm unsure what time it is.

I was still awake when the sun started to fade out and must have finally fallen asleep shortly after. Izzy and Dessa have been banging on my bedroom door for about a minute now. Their persistence is annoying today.

I let out an annoyed grunt as I shove the comforters to the side and push off the bed.

"I'm coming, give me a second."

As I open the bedroom door, Izzy storms in through it instantly, nearly knocking me down. She pushes past me, and I notice she's holding something in her hands that I don't even get to look over because she sets it down on my bed and starts after me. Dessa flashes a soft, knowing smile, sympathetic and almost apologetic.

"You know what, Via? I've been sitting back long enough watching you make these decisions, but I can't support them anymore," Izzy's voice is calm and not laced with frustration as it was when she was locked out of my room. Her facial expression and tone show the concern I know she feels inside. She continues as she paces the floor before me, "I love you. I know everything you've done has been for a reason, but I think you lie to yourself about what that reason is. . ."

I cut her off.

"Iz, I'm not sure where this is going, but you know my reasons. You know, the life I want for Ander, I cannot give it to him myself like I wish I could. How could you even be upset with me over this?"

"Wait, Ander, as in the Anderson Cole?" Dessa asks, confused. Apparently, Izzy didn't even completely fill her in on why they were coming over to yell at me. Great .

"Yes, that's the one!" Izzy says sarcastically. "Her blind date last night, that's who it was. Keep up, Des."

"Oh. . . Oh," Dessa rubs a hand through her hair as she tries to piece everything together. I've told her about Ander.

"Yes, you don't want to hurt him. You want him to be happy. . . I know. That's all you ever say, but the real reason is you think that you don't deserve happiness. You blame yourself. You blame yourself for everything . For things that have never been your fault. For a while, I thought you'd blame either Ander or me for convincing you to sneak out that night of the accident. Now, I know for a fact that you never did. So if you don't blame either of us, how can you blame yourself?"

Her words shock me.

It's nothing I haven't thought about or heard already. Dr. Carr has also mentioned this to me. I know they're right, but I don't know how to admit that or fix it.

I take a step back away from Izzy and turn toward my bed. As I do, she grabs my wrist to stop me. She doesn't keep her grasp on it for long. She moves both hands to my shoulders, forcing me to face and look at her.

". . .He came to see me. He came to Maverick's house, and we talked." She drops her head, breaking our stare. Her face is saddened with the admission. "I can't believe I never gave him the time to hear him out before. I'm so mad at myself for never forcing you to hear him out sooner."

"I'm glad you guys were able to catch up, but I—"

"Izzy, maybe you should hear her out on this one." Dessa, oh sweet Dessa. Thank you for trying.

Izzy turns to Dessa, not maliciously, but she's firm, "No, Des, I've heard her for six years. She needs to hear this."

She shoots her glare back toward me.

"He never got over you either, Via!" She shouts at me, but not out of anger. Her frustration is back, but her shouting is more of a way to get through to me. Izzy's patience is thinner than a sheet of loose-leaf paper. I'm always shocked that she can tolerate my stubbornness and handle it gracefully—most of the time.

Izzy sighs, goes to my bed, and picks up the object she held when she walked in. She walks back to me and gently puts it in my hands.

"Look, V, I love you. I do, but it's time for you to love yourself. It's time to be free from this goddamn cage you've locked yourself into." Izzy sighs, offers a half-ass attempt at a smile my way, a sad one, then pulls me in for a gentle hug and kisses me on the cheek as she walks out.

"Are you okay, V? I didn't even know any of this. She called and said it was an emergency, and we needed to talk to you immediately, so I came."

I can't help but stifle a small laugh. That doesn't surprise me one bit. I nod to Dessa, "Yeah, I'm good."

"Catch me up on everything later when the hot head out there calms down, and you have some time to collect your thoughts, okay?"

I nod, and she pulls me into a firm squeeze.

As she walks out of the room, she calls back over her shoulder, "I see the creepy ass flowers. Clark still hasn't given up?"

"UGH!" I shout, and she laughs as she closes the front door to the house behind her.

After the door closes, I examine what Izzy placed in my hand. It's an envelope. Nothing fancy. Just a white envelope.

Fuck me .

I hear Izzy's car pull out of the driveway, so I take the envelope and head into the kitchen. I stare at the counter, contemplating my life and my decisions until now.

I replay a conversation that Dr. Carr and I had a while back. It was about choices. I forget her exact words, but she pointed out the simplicity of making a choice.

Each choice that you make in life has a path attached to it. The courses aren't always clear when the choices are made. That's the thing: when I chose to put distance between Ander and me, I also knew my chosen path. I was sure it was the path we needed to take. Separately.

I just never expected that our paths would intertwine once again.

I stare at the counter, debating whether eleven thirty in the morning is too late for coffee or too early for wine. Unsure of which is the correct answer, I hesitantly side with caffeine over alcohol. After I fix my extra large mug of dark brew with just a dash of creamer, I sit at the kitchen table. The mysterious envelope is right in front of me.

Downing a sip of coffee, I rip off the small piece of tape and figure out what this damn envelope is about.

I pull the flap open from inside to reveal its contents. Instantly, I see old photographs, and my breath hitches momentarily.

I know these images. These are mine. Well, these were mine. It's an envelope full of photos from my old Nikon film camera that Ander bought me. Pictures that I never developed. I got Izzy to give him all of the cameras back after the funerals. I never realized there were still images on there. I never would have thought or expected him to develop them, much less hold on to them for all these years.

I attempt to catch my breath and start sorting through them each, one by one. A smile pulls at my lips, and tears run down my cheeks as I relive the memories before me.

Photos of the beach. Pictures of our field and our tree. Photos of Ander playing guitar. A photo of Natalie running through the sand with the wind blowing her unruly hair. There are even a few photos of me that Ander must have taken that I never knew about. I run my finger over them, and I grieve that young, free-spirited, and naive girl I once was. She was a girl who constantly got pushed down but never let anything keep her down. She always got back up. A girl whose spirit may have felt damaged, but it was still strong, and she was a fighter—a girl who loved a boy so deeply that her heart could never love another.

I miss that little girl. Her life was never necessarily easy, but she handled it gracefully and didn't crumble at the infliction of pain. Not like the woman I am now apparently does.

Exhaling a deep breath, I place the photos back in the envelope and set it aside. Below the photographs, there is a folded piece of paper. Bracing myself, not sure what to expect, I open it slowly. Written across the page, large and bold, it reads:

Take all the time you need. Please don't take six years, and please don't shut me out again. Not now.

A chill spreads through my body, and I can't stop the smile on my face and inside my heart.

I've never wanted Ander to fight to stay in my life. It was simpler that way, but he always did. To see that he's still trying to… The little girl inside of me, the one that fell in love with her best friend, can't help but let out a childish giggle filled with giddiness that I have no business feeling.

I'm not sure what to do with that emotion. I sit with those questionable feelings for a beat. I'm replaying Izzy, and I's an argument over again in my head. She's feistier than I am, so I know she was holding back from me. We've had arguments before, obviously. We've been friends our entire lives and are both pretty good at voicing our feelings. Izzy is more forthcoming with hers. She doesn't hold back, except when it comes to me. I hate that she feels like she has to. I hate that everyone around me feels like I'm a fragile piece of antique glass they must handle carefully. However, I appreciate that she cares enough to consider my feelings. That isn't lost on me.

I power on my phone, pull up the texts, type a simple "Thank you" message, and hit send.

Izzy texts back immediately as if she were waiting, but there's no actual message. It's just the contact info she shared for Anderson Cole.

"Wow, that's really slick of you," I respond, and I can't help but laugh and roll my eyes.

***

I sat there for far too long, staring at the damn screen as if the answer of what to do next would magically slap me in the face.

Long enough to say fuck it.

I am so tired of living in fear and playing it safe. I am tired of surviving but never truly living. I'm fed up with making decisions that I think are in the best interest of everyone, that leave me feeling nothing but empty. They're all shit, anyhow.

All of my decisions concerning Ander have been to protect him. I knew what Liam was capable of. He proved that, but what can he do now? I shudder at the thought and push it away.

Fuck Liam, and fuck fear.I am going to do it scared.

Before I have time to think it over, I pick up my phone again and text his number.

Via : "If you're free today and don't completely hate me- I'd like you to come over to talk. Or we can meet somewhere."

I hit send before my anxiety had a chance to convince me to erase it. Before I can set the phone down, it buzzes in my hand.

Ander: "I can be there in about 20 minutes. Is that too soon for you?"

Via: "That works."

Ander: "See you then."

" See you then " is all he says, and that's all he needed to say to send my heartbeat racing. I shriek as I pass the mirror and glimpse at my reflection.

Shit , she scares me.

The bags under my eyes from lack of sleep and letting the tears win are terrifying. I'm not one for much makeup, and I never really care to make much effort, as I typically like how I look without it. Call me a minimalist. Today is not one of those days. I don't apply much, but just enough to make me look and feel like I didn't just resurrect from the dead.

Time flies by as I take some form of control of my appearance. Before I know it, a loud truck pulls down the driveway. I'm frozen in place for a second, considering my decision and what comes next. Fear starts to bubble up in my throat, and my heart races like a wild animal escaping captivity, but I take a deep breath and ignore it all. I can't deny there's also a giddy feeling, and I hold onto that one. The one that I have no business feeling, but I do .

It's time to feel.

It's my turn to be careless.