Break In My Heart

Epilogue

My eyebrows furrowed as I looked over the words on my computer, trying to connect the dots and make the scrambled jargon of Machiavelli make sense so I could write a stupid essay about it for my philosophy class. I even read it both in English and Italian hoping that reading it in its native tongue would make it make more sense and reveal something that had been lost in translation.

I had no such luck.

I let out a monstrous groan as I dropped my face into my hands, thankful that there was no one else around me. I'd been sitting in the same spot in the library since five-thirty, and it was now nearing midnight. The coffee that I'd ordered had run out long ago and exhaustion had sunk its hooks into my flesh, slowly dragging me under. It also didn't help that I had an eight am class the next morning. But I couldn't rest until I at least had an outline for my essay, especially because I needed a rough draft done before six pm the following day so my TA could have enough time to review it and give me feedback so I could rewrite it before it was due.

But I couldn't do any of that if Machiavelli's stupid over-saturated, overly prestigious words made no sense to me.

I felt a pit open up in my chest, a feeling that I knew all too well. An anxiety attack. Usually when I felt it coming, I would run to my fathers for comfort, or even Ian, but my dads were back in New York and Ian was at Carnegie Mellon studying acting, all of them hundreds of miles from the library I sat in in Evanston.

Nevertheless, I swallowed the feeling down and continued trying to work through my issue. I was in the middle of reading a paper summarizing the material in a way that was vaguely making sense before I felt someone's hands land on my shoulders. I nearly jumped out of my skin as I turned around, half expecting a library aid coming to kick me out, but that wasn't the case.

"Woah, Romeo. I didn't mean to scare you," Tyler softly said as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, still standing behind me. "I was just getting worried. It's super late, you hadn't come back, and you weren't answering your phone, so I came to check on you."

"Well, you gave me a heart attack instead," I said with a slight chuckle.

He scoffed as a small grin tugged at the edges of his lips. "Well, I'm sorry, Addison Michael. I'll try to avoid doing that next time." He pressed a soft kiss into my hair before he looked at my computer. "You're still working on this essay?"

I let out a sigh. "Unfortunately so. I don't understand philosophy, it's so confusing! Do we exist, or don't we? Do we have free will or not? Is God real or is it just an evil demon just trying to fuck with our perception of reality? Ugh!"

I took off my glasses as I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. "Damn near pushed myself into an anxiety attack, and I'm still nowhere near understanding it all."

"Awe, baby," Tyler gently cooed as he held me slightly tighter. "I wish there was something I could do to help. I mean, maybe I can. I took philosophy in high school, although we didn't do Machiavelli. But, I did have to write papers, and since this is the first one you have to do, I can help you get into the philosophy mindset of writing if you want."

I let out a sigh of relief as I opened my eyes and tilted my head all the way back so that I could look at him since he was still standing behind me. "Per favore, amore. Grazie (Please, love. Thank you)."

"You're welcome," he said as he held my head in his hands and leaned down to place an upside-down kiss on my lips. I grinned against the kiss as it lingered for a moment before he pulled away. "Let's go home, yeah?"

I mutely nodded before I slid my glasses back on and shoved my computer, my notebooks, and my pens into my backpack. Once I was all packed up, I stood up and slid my hand into Tyler's, still in love with the way our hands perfectly fit into one another's. As we walked out, we passed a few other students scattered throughout the library, all looking as stressed as I had been as they typed on their computers or scribbled in their notebooks.