Illumine

Her iPhone rested on the nightstand untouched, its screen an abyss of dull black nothingness, but still, she found her gaze constantly darting back to it. On some level, she expected that flash of harsh blue light, that irritating buzz against the wood, to catch a glimpse of his name scrolled across the screen.

It was stupid, and she knew it was stupid, but there was that lingering notion that maybe if she hoped hard enough, kept turning it over and over in her thoughts, she could will it into being. If she hurled all of that longing out into the universe, maybe it would manifest itself. Maybe, just maybe, he could sense it, feel that inescapable pull at his skin and that fluttering in his belly, and he’d try again.

Because, deep down, there was that part of her that wanted him to chase after her.

But instead of reaching out, Kandi tore her stare away from the phone, folded her hands across her stomach, and sank back into the pillows. It was a restlessness she couldn’t seem to shake, that worked its way out of her frame in the form of pushed-back bangs and frustrated sighs. In all honesty, she was more frustrated with herself, that she was too headstrong for her own good, that her stubborn streak ran far too deep, than she could ever be with him.

Truth be told, her list of missed calls were flooded with his name. There was a stream of unanswered texts from him that spanned the spectrum of his emotions: frustration, anger, nostalgia, desperation, even pleading with her to come back, to talk this out. What she had to offer him was evident in her lack of a response: numbness, this dead silence, a fortress of inadequacy. She knew she could never give him what he wanted, and so she gave him nothing.

So she ran.

Bobby had tried to chase after her.

She just ran faster.

It was a kneejerk reaction, essentially, something instinctual embedded in her DNA. Fight or flight. He was fighting to salvage what they had, and all the while, she was teetering on the edge, ready and waiting to take flight at the first sign of commitment, as soon as he grew too close for comfort.

Because trying to hold onto her was like trying to carry a fistful of sand: the tighter his grip became, the more she felt herself slipping through the cracks between his fingers.

The faint, rhythmic sound of claws clattering against the hardwood floor echoed through the hall, and before she knew it, he came careening onto the bed, this solid mass of muscle and sleek black fur. With his blocky head resting in her lap, she absentmindedly stroked his ears – because though Bobby couldn’t sense the tumult brewing inside of her, there was one male who certainly could.

A blue eye and a brown eye looked up at her, wide and pleading, and as she scratched behind the lab mix’s ear, a sigh pushed past her lips.

“I know, I know. I miss him too.”

Somehow, and Kandi still wasn’t quite able to wrap her mind around it, Bob had managed to win her dog over, which was a feat of herculean proportions considering that Durden was notorious for hating everyone who wasn’t her. He’d always liked to play it off that the only reason the overprotective rescue had ever warmed up to him was because he’d given him a few of his French fries the first time they’d met, but there was more to it than that. It was an aura, a certain energy he exuded that let the creature know he wasn’t a threat. Looking back on it, maybe he had sensed right from the start that they shared the same unwavering devotion. After all, Durden was a phenomenal judge of character. Plus, he’d never been easily swayed by food.

But still, she felt like she needed her space, at least for the time being. She needed that distance, some time spent just outside his gravitational pull, to sort through her thoughts and her emotions, to try to make some sense out of exactly what it was that she wanted.

So she spent the majority of the day curled up in bed, desperate for a worthy distraction. She watched episodes of Family Guy and tried to laugh along at all the right places, but her heart just wasn’t in it. She spent half an hour trying to clean out her DVR. She flipped to Investigation Discovery and tried to lose track of time watching over-the-top dramatic recreations, but she still found her thoughts meandering back to him. It was like tugging at a loose string on a sweater: once the first flicker of him came to mind, she couldn’t keep herself from tracing it, one thought leading to another until all her resolve became unraveled in her grasp.

I bet he’d get such a kick out of this. He’d probably have some smartass commentary to add. I wonder what he’s doing right now…should I call him? God, I’m so pathetic.

And just like a trail of dominoes, the memories came tumbling down, one after another.

It was funny how, the moment she made the conscious decision to force him from her thoughts, he became the only thing she was able to think about.



The scent of lavender overwhelmed her senses as she eased deeper into the water, her knees nestled in-between his and her chestnut waves swept up into a lopsided bun piled on top of her head. With his eyes closed and his head resting against the edge of the tub, he was a vision of serenity, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself as she listened to him lightly hum along with the mellow indie music streaming from the speakers.

“What’s the purpose of all of this?” Kandi asked, fighting back a laugh.

His coffee-colored eyes remained shut as he spoke, “Normal people think this is relaxing.”

She inched back against the wall of the tub and glanced warily over her shoulder at the array of votive candles and their flickering flames that surrounded them. “To be honest, I think it’s more uncomfortable than anything.”

Even with his eyes closed, she noticed the way they creased at the corners with his budding smile. An amused sound somewhere along the spectrum between a scoff and a chuckle slipped past his lips. “You’re impossible to please.”

“Besides,” he continued, blinking water from his eyes. “I was trying to be romantic.”

“Oh yeah?” she replied, that edge of challenge in her tone as she cocked an eyebrow at him.

He remained completely at ease and unfazed. “Mhm.”

For a moment, she attempted to follow suit, sinking down beneath the waterline and letting the bubbles wash over her chest. Her brown eyes fluttered closed, and she struggled to slow her breathing. She had to admit that it felt pleasant, if only for a moment, but that tension remained bundled up inside of her, her mind forever restless. She couldn’t shake the nagging urge that this time was being wasted, that there was still so much to get done and the time she was spending uncomfortably crammed in a bubble bath with him could’ve been put to better use attending to other things.

Eyes the shade of honey peered at him through the heavenly-scented foam. “Is there some sort of hidden agenda behind all of this? Because I’m kinda hoping that there is.”

“Nope, just spending some quality time together.” His voice was steady, unwavering. A hand curved over her knee. “I think it’s nice.”
As she rose up again, Kandi’s gaze remained focused on him, and she had to confess that she was the slightest bit envious of how serene and loose he appeared. So she flicked a mound of bubbles in his face.

“Kandi, what the hell?!”

Her response was a simple shrug of her bare freckled shoulders. “I got bored.”

A glimmer of mischief flashed in his dark eyes as he pushed up out of the water. “Oh, you’ll be sorry,” he offered a few fair words of warning before his broad hand smacked against the water, sending a cascade of droplets flying in her face. Before she had a chance to fight back, he grabbed under her knees and pulled her up against him.

After he’d given her a chance to get in a few quick splashes, their laughter harsh and obnoxious against the soothing soundtrack, she leaned in and planted a kiss along the tip of his nose.

Pulling away, she cracked a grin. “Hold still.”

His words were laced with suspicion. “What is it?”

“Just hold still.”

She managed to keep a hand braced on his shoulder as she reached for the bottle of shampoo just beside his head. The zesty scent of lime and citrus filled the small space as she squeezed a glob in her palm, lathering the gel between her hands before she worked it through his damp black curls. Meanwhile, she could feel him silently studying her, but she chose to ignore the intensity of his stare as her fingers gently shaped his hair into a makeshift, soapy mohawk.

“There,” she replied, rocking back against his thighs to admire her work. “You look beyond sexy right now, just sayin’.”

Bob rolled his eyes, pursed his lips. “Okay.”

Her gaze drifted down his features before she mimicked his expression. “Would I ever lie to you?”

He pretended to contemplate the matter at hand for a moment. “I dunno…maybe?”

“You’re impossible.”

“I know.” His lips curled into a sheepish grin before his hands tightened their grasp on her hips. Before she had a chance to respond, he vanished, submerged beneath the frothy, dusky violet depths for a few seconds before he bobbled back up, shaking the water and shampoo from his shaggy hair.

Without a word, she let her head rest against his chest, content to listen to the dull throb of his heartbeat as he wove his arms around her.

“You’re right,” she murmured against his shoulder. “This is nice.”



Atlanta was the pinnacle of their relationship. The two of them were at their absolute best in the sprawling southern city. The trip had been unexpected, but then again, nothing could be expected when it came to Bobby. Truthfully, his spontaneity was one of the things she admired most about him because it was something so foreign to her, a quality she’d never possessed. Kandi felt much more comfortable when she knew exactly what she was getting into. She was the type of girl who preferred to operate in plans and itineraries; she didn’t take impromptu road trips.

The most impulsive thing she’d ever done was get involved with him.

Needless to say, he had a way of completely wrecking all of her plans.

On this particular occasion, he’d been booked to make an appearance, do a few interviews, take some photos, sign autographs, that sort of thing, and since the city wasn’t an unreasonable drive from where she lived, he’d invited her to come along with him. Although it was completely spur-of-the-moment and she barely had enough time to pack, he had that indescribable way about him, that manner of speaking and phrasing things that was so casual, so cool that even the mere thought of turning him down made her feel like a fool.

“Come on,” he’d edged her on over the phone. “They’re putting me up for the weekend in this fancy hotel, and everything’s already paid for. We can live like rockstars and rack up a ridiculous bill. Order champagne, room service, get massages in the room, lounge around in fluffy white robes, the works.”

“I’ve gotta be honest,” she’d admitted. “It’s an awfully long drive for just a weekend… Will you feed me grapes and fan me with palm leaves? Because that’s the first thing I think of when I think of luxury.”

“I’m not making you any promises on that one,” he’d begun. “But with enough liquor from the mini-bar, I won’t say I couldn’t be persuaded.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. Even though it went against her nature, she could hear that lilt of enthusiasm tugging at his voice, practically see the reckless grin imprinted across his features. It was nothing short of irresistible. “It’s okay. Let’s be real here, you had me at ‘fluffy white robes’ anyway.”
And lying there, with his strong arms wrapped around her and his breath falling in these warm, gentle waves against her back, she was convinced she’d made the right decision. It was intoxicating, having the comfortable heat of his body so perfectly aligned with hers, and she would’ve been perfectly content to drift off right then and there if her throat hadn’t been so dry, but she waited until his breathing became slow and even before she wriggled free of his hold.

Trying not to shift her weight too much on the mattress, in cautious, subtle movements, she reached for the pile of sheer magenta fabric and black lace gathered near the edge of the bed. She was still careful not to wake him as she slipped back into her sleep romper, pushed her sideswept bangs from her face, and treaded ever so softly across the carpet. But of course, as her luck would have it, she was just at the door when she heard him groggily call out for her.

“Come back here.” His voice was heavy and raspy from sleep. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

She kept her tone soft, coddling, but realistic in the same vein. “Honey, it’s late. You’re tired. Go back to sleep.”

“No,” he groaned back into the pillow belligerently, and in the dark, Kandi rolled her eyes to herself, choosing to pay no attention to him. Because the odds were, he’d be back in dreamland before she returned anyway.

So with her glass of water in hand, she was caught a little off-guard to find him propped up in bed, waiting for her when she made her way back to the bedroom. Even in this barely-conscious state, she had to hand it to him that he was undeniably sexy. All muscle and sinew, he was lazily sprawled out across the bed in a way that couldn’t be described as anything other than catlike. Stretches of his rich, golden skin peeked out here and there amongst the slate gray sheets like something solar, cosmic, catching brief glimpses of the midday sun between storm clouds. He was his own blazing supernova, so blinding that it hurt to stare, but at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to look away. Eyes glowing like embers, he smoldered without even trying. It was something effortless, innate, and she was utterly mesmerized by him, captivated the way a moth is by a flame.

If what they had could set the world ablaze, he would be the shuddering blue heart of the flame, the part that burned the very hottest, and she’d be the orange glow that danced and flared around him.

His kisses surged straight through her frame like bolts of lightning, leaving her hollowed out like a fulgurite. As she threaded her fingers through his disheveled locks, letting her thumbs graze his sideburns, his lips refused to stray from hers. Fervent, hungry, passionate. He kissed her in the way that all girls long to be kissed: like she was something essential to his survival, as if he needed her the same way he needed the blood coursing through his veins or the oxygen flooding his lungs.

At the same time, his kind of love was something that devoured, fingertips hot, hot, hot like coals raking down her back, and as she arched away, further into him, she was only delving deeper into the inferno.

Melting beneath his touch, she thought, this is how it feels to fly too close to the sun.

And this was exactly the way she’d keep him seared in her memory: this time when they were reckless, honest, and free. That moment before things between them grew complicated, before those three magic words that meant everything but at the same time meant nothing at all.



The very first time he’d uttered those words to her, they were lying on his couch, watching a movie. Both of them had been right on the brink of dozing off when he’d pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, his stubble rough against her fair skin as he gave her a quick squeeze.

“I love you.”

This was the very moment when she felt her heart go plummeting into her stomach. This was the moment when she realized that she couldn’t give him those same words back. Because telling someone that you love them gives them the power to break you, and she knew that she wasn’t ready for that.

After all, she had spent her entire life building these walls up so high around her. Time had passed, and this tower that she had constructed to protect herself had been reclaimed by nature, the stone crawling with ivy and thorns, and here he was to set her free, to rescue her when she wasn’t sure that she wanted to be rescued. This tower was safe. This tower was familiar. This tower was hers, and she was watching him pull it apart, brick by brick.

Somehow, he’d managed to get too close to her, to break through the cracks the same way that a dandelion manages to take root in concrete.

All she could do was lace her fingers through his, silently resurrecting that wall around herself.



The situation inevitably came to a head a few weeks later, when Bobby asked her to move in with him. With hindsight being twenty-twenty, it was an innocent enough suggestion. After all, it was the next logical step in their relationship, and she found herself sleeping over at his place more often than not, so it probably would’ve been more practical for the two of them to just live together.

In her mind, it made sense, but her heart wasn’t there yet.

So she picked a fight with him.

Kandi lashed out at him because it was the only thing she knew how to do. Because telling someone that you love them gives that person the power to break you, and she had every intention of abusing that power. It was a shitty, selfish, and terrible thing to do, but ripping him apart was easier than it would be to face the alternative. It was easier to be this cold-hearted bitch than it was to let him in, to let him see just how fragile and broken she truly was.

The words fell from her tongue like something jagged, brutal, and even as his lips pursed and his jaw clenched, his features hardening around the edges, he remained this calm, controlled center of the universe.

He still gazed at her with those soft, lambent eyes.

“I think,” he began slowly, carefully, his stare shifting to the floor as his mouth curved around each syllable, “it would be best if you just left right now.”

So in one final act of rebellion, she flipped him off with one hand and slammed his door with the other, still cursing him as she peeled out of his driveway.



Before she had a chance to second-guess herself, Kandi rolled over, reached across her mattress for her phone, and hastily punched out a text to him.

I’m sorry. I’m on my way over.

Brown eyes gently fell closed, a single breath forcing its way past her lips as she pressed send. She didn’t even give him the time to respond before she was stepping into her flip-flops, slinging her bag over her shoulder, and dashing through the door, down the steps to her car, her pulse drumming in her skull like gunfire.

On the drive to his place, she did just about everything under the sun to calm her nerves: blasted Jack’s Mannequin, drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, tossed her hair all about, anything to get her blood rushing and bring a smile to her face. Because if she worried at all about his reaction, if she thought for a moment that he’d slam the door in her face and push her away the same way she’d done to him, she would’ve never been able to go through with it.

Her problem was that she had the troublesome habit of overanalyzing everything, of picking apart the countless possibilities of how everything could come crashing down around her, the endless array of ways he could possibly hurt her, that she didn’t stop and take into account how she actually felt.

That maybe, just maybe, the fact that some part of her needed to be close to him, ached for him, wasn’t the worst thing ever.

Tucking a section of her wild brunette waves behind her ear, she took the stairs to his apartment in a few sure-footed bounds, knocked three times, and swallowed hard.

Bob ducked his head as he stepped aside to let her in. For a moment, the two of them just stood there in his doorway, neither of them quite sure how to break the silence, who should reach out first. His almond eyes scanned her features, searching for something, anything to latch onto.

His lips parted as he tried to find the right words to say, and she seized the opportunity to wind her arm around his neck, reeling him in and letting her lips crash against his as she sought out that temporary insanity.

She could sense that all of this was unexpected, that he’d prepared himself for the exact opposite reaction, braced himself for the blow, but it didn’t take him long to catch on. His hands came to rest along the curve of her hips, and she pressed her forehead against his as he pulled away.

“I thought you said…” he fumbled, gaze lingering on the tile beneath their feet. “You didn’t…huh?”

Her lips mashed together in a weak smile. “I love you.” Of this, she was absolutely certain. It wasn’t a single pivotal moment or a conscious decision: her feelings for him were something basal, something that ran deeper than the marrow in her bones. She couldn’t change it anymore than she could change the color of her eyes, her crooked nose, or her lazy southern drawl. “But I need some time to figure all this out. I need you to be patient with me.”

He flashed her a grin before letting his chin rest against her hair. “I can give you that.”

Because telling someone that you love them is giving them the power to break you but in the same vein, trusting that they won’t.