A month passed since the car crash that killed your baby. The sutures on the side of your head had long healed but the sadness that settled into your bones did not. You had gotten bad again.

Lukas did not come to visit you the next day like he said. He couldn't because you went back to New York with your family. Your father didn't have you do any work. So you were in your apartment, alone.

You mostly wasted away and sat staring out the glass windows of the high-rise you were in. You felt incredibly numb with sadness and it overwhelmed you some days that you would just start sobbing out of the blue. You had to have your doctor increase your meds.

Lukas only came to visit you twice in one month for a single day each time. The first was only a day after you got into New York. He showed up at your door and you hugged the life out of him.

"I'm here. I'm here," he mumbled into your hair.

You didn't stop hugging him for the whole day; you laid in bed with him and he just held you. When he had to leave, you felt panicked. You did not want him to go. The thought of it was unbearable.

So you attached yourself to him and kissed him hard on the lips. You hoped he would stay if you kissed him. But he pulled away from you.

"Ella, I have to go."

You stared at him, a bit hurt. He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you again, before kissing the side of your head. Then he let go and he left, promising that he would back soon.

He was not back soon. He came back two weeks later to see you. Again, it was only for a day. You watched a movie with him.

You kept staring at him like he was the thing that made your whole world spin. He was. And you kissed him again. Kissing him was the only thing that didn't make you feel like you were drowning in sadness. It made you feel light and carefree.

You kissed him hard again with desperation. You were practically offering yourself to him on a silver platter as you pressed your body against his. He gave in for a moment as he made out with you on the couch.

But then he quickly pulled away from you, breathing heavily. He was silent for a moment before he looked at you. He gave you a small reassuring grin and patted your knee, "We should watch the movie."

You blinked and he readjusted himself on the couch, leaving a space between the two of you. You did not understand. Did he not want to kiss you anymore? Did he not want you anymore?

His hand laid in the space between their thighs. You placed your palm over his ever so gently as you were afraid he was going to retract his hand if you did it any differently. And once you did so, he entwined his hand with yours. That calmed the panic in your heart.

For a moment.

When he went to leave after that visit, he did not kiss you goodbye. You wondered what you had done wrong to make him not want to kiss you. But then you realized what was happening: he was growing bored of you.

You were absolutely sure of it. All of the signs were there. He was starting to ignore you. Eventually, he'd ignore you completely just like everyone else. You bet that he didn't even love you anymore.

He probably just felt bad because you lost their baby and he was just coming to see you out of pity. Yes, that was it. You wondered if he even ever wanted a baby with you. Probably not. Who would ever want a baby with you? You weren't mother material. Lukas probably wanted someone better to carry his child if he ever wanted one again.

Your mind was on the death spiral ever since that last visit. You were paranoid. You could barely sleep. You'd wake up with an ache in your chest and you would cry yourself back to sleep. You started to scratch at the scar on your arm. You started to feel that feeling again. You were just waiting for Lukas to ignore you completely...and then it wouldn't matter what you promised. All these feelings could go away.

But Lukas still called you and texted you. It was much less than he used to but he did. You were afraid to ask him and have it be true: he no longer wanted you. So you'd exist in this bubble where you pretended that everything was fine. It was easier this way.

____

It was finally the birthday of your father. Of course, you went. You wore a pink short halter dress and a black and white tweed jacket. You had taken off your jacket when you arrived but then Kerry came over to you.

"Your father asks that you put the jacket back on."

You faked a smile as you blinked back tears, "Of course."

You realized why your father wanted you to have your jacket on. To hide the long, deep scar on your arm that was seen as shameful. To prevent people from asking questions about why you had it. To prevent embarrassment of him as your father. Logan could not be seen as a failure.

It made you think of Lukas. He would never ask you to hide it. He even sometimes ran his fingers over it affectionately. You missed him.

You felt that ache in your chest the whole party. That longing for him. You wished your father happy birthday and then you stood like a wallflower just thinking of Lukas.

Connor did approach you and wrapped an arm around you with a smile, "Hey, sport."

"Hey, Con."

He rubbed your arm, "You feeling okay? You look a little sad."

"I'm okay. Are you?"

"Well, I'm getting married so fantastic, Ellie. Fantastic."

You formed a small smile, "I'm happy for you, Con."

"I can't wait to see your wedding. You always loved weddings, didn't you?" Connor said advised. "You know if the guy you end up with, or girl, doesn't give you the biggest wedding possible, don't marry them."

"I don't think anyone will want to marry me, Con."

"Are you kidding? You're pretty and smart and so sweet. Any bloke would be lucky to have you. If they don't think so, you send them to me."

"Okay," you chuckled before you hugged him tightly with a grateful smile. "I love you, Con."

"Oh," he said in surprise. "Well, I love you, too, Ellie."

He kissed the top of your head affectionately and you let him go. He eventually left you and you stayed there, the wallflower. You were the only one wearing a jacket.

When your father started to make a power play for Pierce, you left and you practically threw the jacket off in the car. You felt tears of frustration and Henry, your driver, called in concern, "Miss?"

"I'm fine. Just please take me home," you commanded.

Your father was ashamed of you. Your siblings (besides Con) didn't talk to you unless you were in mortal danger. And the only person that could make you feel better was halfway across the world and you had no idea if you were even dating him anymore.

You thought being home would be better for you. You thought finally that perhaps your siblings would start to connect with you. But in the city of dreams, you found that's all you had: dreams. You were left to rot in an expensive high-rise by everyone that mattered to you while none of them came true.