If You Love Me

27

d e a n

FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME I KNEW what true heartache felt like. As Avery slid back into the seat next to me after missing the beginning half of the movie; as she remained silent the entire car ride home, only responding to the light conversation around her with nods and half smiles; as the toothpaste dripped from her mouth to her chin when she was brushing her teeth next to me back at the dorms; as we stripped our clothes and got into the blankets next to each other; as she fell asleep as I held her for six hours straight; and I rotated between watching her and the white wall the entire night.

That is when I felt it: heartache.

Heartache for the girl that I was rapidly but surely falling in love with and everything that she has gone through.

Despite the obvious similarities that she shared with her mother as identified from the pictures she showed me one night, I saw her as clear as day as I looked at her father. As she watched him and he watched her in the middle of the movie theatre, I saw her. Their mouths were kissed with the same frown, their eyes both wide and fully of anxiousness, and both heartbroken.

Avery slowly begins to stir in the sheets next to me. The blankets that are tucked underneath her chin, the way that I have come to know is just how she likes it, slowly made their way down her chest and rest on the lining of her collarbone. Her head sways against the white satin, the strands outstretching across the pillow she lays on. Her eyes begin to shift underneath her eyelids, the small blue veins on them disappearing as she opens them and find me.

A yawn escapes from between her lips. "Good morning."

"'Morning."

I don't miss the way that her eyes race between both of mine as we lay lying next to each other, her gaze stopping at the tops of my cheeks. One of her hands make their way from underneath the blankets, sliding up the length of my arm before they find my face. She holds me in her hands, her thumb tracing the skin just underneath my eyes.

"You didn't sleep," she says without an ounce of hesitation, her eyes staying on what I'm sure are my brown under-eye bags. "Why didn't you wake me?"

"You were tired." I respond with a shrug. She had said so herself last night and I wasn't going to wake up her only to have her stare the white wall with me all night long.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" She asks and based on the look in my eyes, she knows why. She knows it all it too well, and I hate that I couldn't do a better job at hiding it. An uneven sigh escapes her parted lips. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry. "

"Avery...you have nothing to be sorry for."

"You couldn't sleep because of me," she pauses. "Of course I have something to be sorry for."

"A sleepless night has never done me any harm before. I don't think that it'll start now."

She falls quiet as she peers down. Her hands move to wound themselves around the blankets once again, pulling it upwards until I can only see her from the chin up.

Something warm and wet hits my chest, travelling down the spans of my bare torso until it hits the top of my boxers. My eyes fall downwards, past where I had once been looking at her eyes and was now staring at the top of her head until I find her wet eyelashes as they rest against the tops of her cheeks.

"I hate him," she whispers as more tears make their way down her cheeks and on to my chest. "I hate all of them."

"I know." And I know that she doesn't hate them at the same time too.

"That was supposed to be me," she starts once more. "I was supposed to be the daughter that he takes to the movies, eats popcorn with. The one that he loves out loud and not from behind a cellphone."

Her voice begins to shake the more she cries, and I hate that I cannot take all that pain away.

"His wife found me in the bathroom," she continues. "She talked about the way that he is with her and their daughter, especially after she turned five and how simple he had become. Like the light and love went out. Like he has a timer on how long he can love someone," her frown deepens. "And yet, she never once spoken ill of him or what they have. She never said that her love had become simple."

"Love is strange," I begin. "It can hurt in the best and worst ways. You never know what end of the stick you'll get until you're in too deep."

"My mother told me that she loved me every single day before she died. Every. Single. Day. From what I remember, my father did the same. And yet, they both left me," she speaks. "If being loved means being left in the end, I don't want to be loved by anyone ever again."

There it was again, only this time more forceful than it was before: heartache.

"Promise me that you'll never love me, Dean," she cries. "Please."

I remove her head from my chest, pulling her face towards me and her gaze to me. Her eyes are round and anxious and red as they sparkle with tears.

Our faces are mere inches apart as we watch each other.

"I can't promise you that, Avy," one of my hands leave the sides of her face as I push away the wet strands that lay against her rosy cheeks. "I would be lying to the both of us."

Her pink lips outstretch forward into a frown.

"The truth is, one day I'm going to love you," I begin to trace the outline of a heart into the middle of her cheek. "I'm going to love you from head to toe, every nook and cranny, every heartbeat, every smile, every laughter, and through all the emotions that you don't want me to see. For a little while longer, you are going to have to settle for a lot more than just like. Is that alright with you, baby?"

Her lips meet mine in a frenzy, owning them and me completely. They mould against mine, parting just enough for my tongue to enter her mouth. My hands snake underneath her, pulling her on top of me. Her hands reach up and entangle themselves my hair, tugging at the roots.

With every strength in my body, I pull her lips away from mine knowing that if I didn't then and there, we would go to a place that we weren't ready for on this Saturday morning. A place that with tears in her eyes and heartache in my chest, would not be fair to either one of us.

"Now please, no more tears," I wipe away at the tears that continue to fall down her cheeks. "No man, or woman that walks this earth is worth them."

She smiles as my fingers caress her smooth skin.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" I say as I bring my eyes back to meet hers.

"Would it be alright if I fell in love with you too one day?" She asks and I swear if I had a ring on me right now, I would propose.

My throat begins to constrict me. "I would like that, Avy. I would like that a lot."