New York

This week has went by quickly. Today is my last morning with Mack before I leave tomorrow. I put everything into my punches knowing that I'm about to have a two week break. Instead of feeling excited for a much needed break, I feel dread. I won't have my schedule with me in New York and there will be so many things to trigger me. I hope I can do this. I'm snapped back to reality by Mack.

"Do you have everything ready to go? You gonna be okay, Em?" His voice is full of concern and I do my best to reassure him.

"I have all of my stuff packed and ready. My plane leaves at 6:00 am so all I have to do is rest."

He nods at me still not happy with the fact that I'm leaving. Mack knows me just as well as my parents so his lack of confidence along with theirs is starting to take a toll. Is this a mistake? No one seems to think I can do it. Shaking my head at my thoughts. I finish removing the tape from my knuckles and getting ready to leave.

"I'm proud of you, Emilia." I look up to a teary eyed Mack.

"You have come so far and have done so well. You can do this."

I keep his eye contact feeling better that he believes in me.

"Thanks, Mack. I'll be back before you know it."

With that I head out the door and walk in the opposite direction of home. I head towards the shooting range that has become part of my schedule in the past year. It took me a whole month to be in the same room as a gun. Now I can fire it with barely a change in my breathing.

I bring the gun up and aim at the target in the back. I fire out the first round with every bullet hitting somewhere on the target. I'm proud of myself as I reload my gun. I've been working just as hard in here as I have the gym so it's nice that my hard work is paying off.

Satisfied with myself, I head out and start my jog home. I hit the target practically every time, just missing twice. I'm deep in my thoughts by the time I reach the house. I climb the stairs and hop in the shower to get rid of the smell of sweat and gunfire.

Today is Saturday, so I don't have work. All I need to do today is finish packing and check my lists. I finish packing my toiletries and few items in my suitcase before I plop on the couch to spend the rest of the afternoon watching Netflix.

Several hours and episodes later, my parents come home from work and join me. We decided to order in pizza and spend the night hanging out. I know my parents are worried and will really miss me. I haven't spent the night away from home in four years. It's going to be hard on all of us.

"Well we have an early morning tomorrow. So we better get some sleep. I love you, Em." My mother hugs me and joins my dad in going to their room. I head upstairs to get ready for bed. I take my meds and add some finishing touches to my packing. The picture of Luke and I is placed carefully beside my gun in my suitcase. I give them both one last look over before zipping it up. It doesn't take me long to fall into another dreamless sleep.

My alarm blaring at 4 am is my first reminder that I won't have my schedule to lean on. Surprisingly, I'm calm about it. It's about time I have some change in my life and today is the start of that. Today will be a good day.

I take my suitcase and backpack downstairs where my parents are waiting with breakfast. I eat a small meal before they walk me out to the cab waiting outside to take me to the airport. I feel my chest tighten as I load my bags in the trunk. I haven't been in a car since the accident, but I can't freak out now. If my parents see how hard this is, they won't let me go. I quickly hug them and mumble goodbye before throwing myself in the back seat. No turning back now.

I can feel my breaths become shallow as we drive off. I can't have a panic attack here. I've barely made it onto the road. I start my breathing exercises.

One two. In. Three four. Out.

I repeat this several times til my pulse calms down and I feel as comfortable as I can be in the taxi. Luckily, the driver isn't much of a talker so we make our way to the airport in silence.

Finally pulling in, I pay the driver and get away from the car as quickly as possible with each step my breathing coming easier. I make my way through security and board the plane with no complications. Once we are safely up in the air, I recline my chair and drift to sleep. New York, here I come.

After landing, I collect my luggage and make my way outside and wait for a taxi. As I see it pull up to take me to my hotel, I feel my chest tighten again. The familiar feeling of a panic attack consumes my whole body. Closing my eyes, I control my breathing and feel the car start moving. It was only a 5 minute drive, but it took every part of me to keep the panic attacks at bay.

I check into my hotel and make it to my room without running into anyone. I sink into the bed and let the silence comfort me. Before I know it, I'm awoken by laughter outside the door. I don't remember falling asleep, but judging by the time I've been asleep for a few hours. It's only 4 pm, so I decide to get ready and head down to a cafe down the street. I pull on my normal outfit: a long sleeve shirt and shorts. I adjust my sleeves making sure my scar is hidden before walking out of my room and down into the lobby.

The cafe is just a 5 minute walk. I'm in New York City so most of everything I need is just a short walk away. The city is crowded as tourists and locals make their way to find something to eat for dinner. Crowds make me uncomfortable so I soon find my gaze on the ground. Soon I collide with a wall, or rather a brick wall of a person. I stumble back and mumble out an apology before looking up. As I gaze into those sparkling brown eyes, my heart stops. His caramel brown skin is flawless and his once long curls are cut short. Long gone are the lean arms and legs, replaced with big muscles which seems to make him appear taller. I watch as his eyes light up with recognition before turning dark with guilt. Maybe? Or it could just be my imagination. He quickly recovers and plasters on his heartwarming smile making his dimple appear. There is no denying that this is Luke.

"Miss me?" He smirks and I find myself getting lost in his eyes until the past four years flashes through my mind. I can't believe he is here. Alive. My fist collides with his mouth and it does very little to make me feel better. I watch as he takes a step back raising his hands to his now busted lip.

"Okay. I deserved that. Since when can you hit like that Rose?"

I feel tears well up in my eyes as he uses his nickname for me. He is the only person who calls me by my middle name. I quickly blink them away as I watch a beautiful woman with gorgeous wavy black hair walk up.

"Alessi, what happened?" She takes out a napkin before dabbing away the blood on his mouth. I feel out of place watching a woman dote on the love of my life. I quickly turn around and head back towards the hotel with supper completely forgotten.

"Rose. Rose, wait." I hear Luke or rather Alessi's deep voice yelling. Suddenly I'm tired of running. I want him to feel the pain that I've had to carry since he left. I turn around and get ready to strike again, but he quickly catches my wrist.

"I deserved the first one. Don't hit me again, please."

I scoff at him.

"Clearly you have me mistaken for someone because I have no idea who you are." I mean every word I say. This man in front of me is not my Luke.

"Rose, it's me. Luke. I know you know that. Stop playing dumb."

"Really? Thought your name is Alessi? Which one is it?"

He sighs and runs his hand through his short hair.

"My name is Alessandrio Luca Romero. My friends call me Alessi, but you call me Luke."

I stare up at him and let my voice come out clear and confident.

"My Luke died four years ago, Alessandrio." I pronounce his name slowly with my voice filled with hate. I turn around and start to leave when calls out again.

"Rose, please. I..."

I didn't let him finish as I turned around and stared deeply into his eyes

"Rose died a month after. My name is Emilia."

With that I turn around and quickly walk away. I don't breathe til I'm in the comfort of my hotel room. With shaking hands, I take my medicine and try to sleep. That night, the nightmares came back.