Mckin

ome, their lives a whirlwind of parties, dinners, and romantic getaways. Their laughter, when they were present, drifted up

to the vibrant new life I was about to embark on. It was a strange k

ago was tonight. The thought was a pulsi

high school reunion party. "Everyone's here, Kianna!

what I needed. One last farewell to the past, to the gi

ightly slurred, as he clinked a shot glass agai

I hadn't truly known. The alcohol offered a momentary escape, a numbing oblivion that quieted the incessant ache in my ches

erie, felt distant, as if I were observing it from behind a pane of glass. I felt a little lightheaded, t

warmth of the bar. I stepped outside, leaning against the brick wall, ta

, low and resonant, carrying on t

gainst my ribs. I knew it was childish, cowardly, bu

a big girl now, Dad. She'll be fine. She needs to learn to

cruel irony of it all was a bitter pill to swallow. His words, meant to reassure his father, were a final confirmation. H

was right. I was a big girl now. I had to stand on

g to a past that was nothing but an illusion. I straightened my shoulders and walked

my face. The mirror reflected a pale, determined face. The alcohol had m

n my throat. He looked surprised to see me, his eyes wide. He was not alone.

idence. We were just leaving." She squeezed Jordan's arm, pulling him closer. He re

arned for, but never received. He kissed her forehead, a soft, intima

ed front, and walked out, leaving me standing there, alone again. As they disappeared, I heard

ust being Kianna." His words, once a comfort, now

okay, Kianna?" Chloe's voice, laced with concern, brought me

st a bit of eye irritation," I lied, my voice

ys thought you and Jordan would end up together. He was always so protective of you, always looking out for

ng time ago, Chloe," I said, my voice flat. "W

you were special. Like you were his whole world. Everyone tho

as not their fault. It was mine. For believing in a fantasy, for clinging to a one-s

, there were no tears. Only a cold, ha

ar, into the damp, cool night. The rain had started again, a

, not over himself, but solely over her, shielding her from the rain. His shoulder, his arm, his hair, were al

ushed to my side, throwing his jacket over my head, pulling me close. "Don't worry, Kianna," he'd said, his voice warm, comforting. "I'll always keep you dry." He had h

ce swore to protect, stood alone, the cold rain beginning to soak through my thin

e. But it was also a reminder. A reminder that I had to be strong. I had to be

flinch. I didn' t look back. I just kept walking, one foot in front of the other, towards the unknown future,