Twice In A Lifetime | Book 2 (Completed)

18. MAYBES AND WHAT IF'S

Chapter 18: MAYBES AND WHAT IF'S

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Alex's POV:

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If I thought telling Jensen everything and coming clean would relieve me, I was sadly mistaken... I still look pale and miserable, my nights are a lot more restless and I look more and more pathetic each day.

I haven't heard from him since I left his house a week ago. One week... god it feels so much longer than just seven days. I'm dying to hear his voice, a phone call, a text, an email or a note... anything.

The kiss we shared, the last time I was in his embrace played in my mind, and I wondered if it was our last kiss?

At work, I'm mostly distracted, but at night it's absolutely worse. I lay awake in the dark and stare up at my ceiling thinking all the 'what ifs' and 'maybes' that I force away during the day.

Maybe he doesn't know what to say... That's understandable.

What if he pities me, feels sorry for me.... Anyone would...but...

Maybe he wants nothing to do with me but doesn't know how to tell me that...

Maybe.... What if...

This is what I wanted didn't I? I've been so hell-bent on driving him away, then...why does it hurt so much when I've finally succeeded?

But...there's a part of me that wanted him to stay... stay despite everything. Despite all the unpredictability and ramifications... I wanted him to choose me. I can't believe how foolish I'm being. How selfish.

He said he loved me...that counts for something right...I wanted to tell him how much I loved him too, tell him how much he means to me, but I didn't... I didn't want to affect or influence his decision in any form... Didn't want to confuse him.

But maybe that wouldn't have mattered...

It's better this way, at least he'll be fine, he won't suffer. He'll move on, live a full life, be happy...I guess that's enough. Tears spilt, wetting my pillow with my salty grievances, I let them fall until I exhausted myself and allowed sleep to pull me under.

The weekend arrived faster than ever, but I sat in my living room and stared at the walls contemplating going to the office to get some work done.

Staying home was only making me think of everything I shouldn't. I had a bad headache and took a painkiller, wishing it would numb the pain in my heart too.

When the doorbell rang, I dragged myself to answer it and found a smiling Sam on the other side, but his smile dimmed as soon as he looked at me.

"When your mom told me to check on you, I thought she was being overly concerned... but damn." He stepped in and then the next thing I know he was touching my forehead to check my temperature.

"I'm fine Sam." I brushed his worries away and walked back in and he followed me after closing the door.

"No you're not, I can see that... are you eating well?" He went to check my fridge and started picking out ingredients.

"What are you doing?" I asked, but he ignored me and continued to look inside my fridge.

"Sam?" I asked again.

"I'm making you a sandwich and you're gonna finish it and then you're telling me what's wrong." He said, leaving no room for argument.

I nodded, knowing that he wouldn't budge. He got to work: rinsing, chopping, mixing, seasoning.... He worked in my kitchen very comfortably. Once in a while, he asked me questions about where certain ingredients were kept and then got right back to what he was doing.