Apartment 105

Chapter 17

"It's fine. Really. I could care less," I shrug, taking a deep breath to clear the shakiness of my voice. "You're clearly not," he frowns. "I mean it's not the easiest thing to hear but I was the one who asked right? And I meant it when said I wanted to know," and I did. I really did want to know. At least I thought I did. "Are you sure?" Luke nips at his lip ring.

"Yes, now please stop worrying. You worry too much," my voice coming out more lighter now. He nods and just as I turn around to unlock my door in a small voice he asks, "And...we're okay?" My heart just about stops in my chest and I let out a breath I didn't even realize I was holding in.

Suddenly, I'm reminded of the broken boy I'm so helplessly in love with. The one who gets nervous and bites at his lip ring, the one who is terrified I'm going to decide to up and leave him at any moment, the one who needs constant reminding and reassurance that I'm not. The one who this magical girl on the train left broken and shattered.

"Yes Luke, we're more than okay," I send him a soft smile and seal the promise with a kiss.

And so what if I set aside my own worry and pain this time, for the sake of the blue eyed boy, I don't mind.

That night, when all my clothes are put away and I've talked myself out of my own head, I make my way across the hall, effortlessly slipping into bed and cuddling him a little closer, holding on just a little bit tighter.

-

The thing is, it becomes a thing. This constant nagging at the back of my mind, reminding me of the way Luke spoke about Tara with every little thing that I do. I don't just feel uneasy and self conscious either. I start to find myself second guessing every single little thing; every little thing I eat, every little thing I say or do.

It's just this constant, Tara would never eat something this unhealthy, Tara would never go out in public looking like this, Tara would never say something so stupid. And I can't help it.

I just want Luke to speak about me the way he does Tara. I want his beautiful blue eyes to light up with every word, want him to smile that bashful smile that can pass as a grin and shows his dimple. I want him to ramble on about me without even noticing, I want him to light up the whole damn room when he says my name.

I want him to love me the way he loves her.

It's stupid and absolutely ridiculous, I know this. But I find myself slowly pulling away. It's not on purpose, obviously. It's just, well, maybe I was letting the doubt consume me far more than I ever should have. From the moment I wake to the moment I sleep, it's just this constant dread that Luke doesn't, nor will he ever, feel the way he did with Tara with me.

So I do what I do best. I joke and laugh and scrub my apartment clean and rearrange the whole place at least 5 times a week and I worry. I keep it all to myself, don't let anyone into the apartment and worry.

It goes like this for weeks. For weeks and weeks, smiling at Luke, sleeping in his bed, avoiding sex, and making jokes. Lots and lots of jokes. And it's all fine. Or, well, as fine as it can get when you're on the brink of an emotional meltdown to the point where you're sure you'd burst into tears and let everything out at the mere mention of the name Tara.

-

Then it happens. Lucky for me it happens when I'm alone, Luke having just kissed me goodbye in a rush down the hallway. It's almost on cue. As soon as his feet are padding down the staircase and I've got my key in the door, I breakdown. I'm not even sure what does it or why it happens that way. I'm just so completely exhausted from keeping it in and sucking it up for his sake that it gets the better of me.