Words 1505
EMERY.
I lay on my bed, looking up at my ceiling. I am such a coward. He was right there. Not even sixty feet from me, talking with his mom.
His hair looked shorter, and his eyes seemed a darker brown than I've ever seen them. All I had to do was call out to him. That's all I would have to do and he would look over to me. That is what I'm sure of.
What I'm not sure of is if he'd smile or frown when he'd see me. Would he be happy that I'm changing my mind or would he be disappointed?
Yes, he asked me to go with him, but I said no. What if that's the end of it? What if it was a one time thing? What if he has realized how much better his life is without me in it?
And no one can convince me otherwise on that. I fucked up his life. I'm sure whichever reason his parents got divorced somewhat correlated with me too, because everything bad that happens does.
It seems that I was cursed at birth. Everything I love and want in life turns to shit. And I bring others down with me. I won't do that anymore. And that's why I turned around and walked out of there, not calling his name and running into his—welcoming or unwelcoming— arms.
I hear a knock at my door and I glance over at my door, tears drip down my cheek and I wipe them off. "What is it?"
"It's your mother." Mom says quietly. I sit up, resting my head on my wall.
"Come in." I sigh. I don't want to spill my guts to her but I don't have anyone else to spill my guts too.
I've realized that once you find someone to tell your secrets to—in my case, Cole— then it's hard to stop, even when that one person leaves.
It's like drugs, once you start you can't stop and you start going through other stronger drugs to get a fix until you're dead.
I don't think telling people my problems will end in death but I know that if I don't fully trust the person first it will end up ruining my life further.
"Are you okay?" Mom mutters, sitting down on the bed, she placed her hand on her abdomen as she sits, letting out a small grunt.
"Does it still hurt?" I question instead, pointing to her stomach.
She shrugs, "not as much anymore. Just when I move too quickly or... sit down too hard." She nods, "okay, now you have to answer my question."
I go silent as I think. Should I tell her I'm not okay or should I tell her I am? If I tell her I am okay she won't believe me, but if I keep to it then maybe she'll believe me. If I say I'm not okay then I'll be seen as weak and then she is going to ask me what happened and I'm going to have to tell her because I already told her I don't feel okay.
"Not really... no." My mouth speaks aloud and I don't think I even decided yet. I swear my mouth has a mind of it's own.
"You want to talk about it?" She asks, lifting her brows at me.
"I just couldn't do it." My mouth is barely moving because it has finally caught on that I don't want to be telling her these things. But maybe I do, because I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't.
"Did you talk to him?" She leans in like she is about to hear a big scoop of ice cream— tea. Whatever the fuck the saying is.
"No, he didn't even see me." I reply, "I saw him across the room and then I left."
"Honey, you were so excited. What changed your mind?" She furrows her eyebrows, a sympathetic frown on her face.
"Um..." I look down, here's where it gets real. Do I tell her the truth or do I fake around the problem like I always do? "I'm not good enough." I reply, pulling at a string unthreaded from my blanket.
"You are good enough. Don't say that."
"Stop it. You're not going to change my mind." I snap, shaking my head. I don't want her denying my beliefs, it's dramatic and so fucking dumb of her. She really thinks she is going to change my mind? "And even if you do, it's too late. He's on that plane as we speak."
My heart clenches. It feels like a giant hand is wrapped around my heart and is crushing all the walls and barricades I've put up, squeezing it like a Coca-Cola can. I let out a cry, one I didn't even feel myself holding back.
I cover my face with my hands. Mom wraps her arms around me, pulling me to her chest. "It's okay. You're going to get over this. I know that's not what you want to hear, and you don't believe me. But you will get over this, at least enough to move on." She doesn't say anything for a moment and then she squeezes me closer. "All you have to do is try."
I don't reply, I just hug her closer, crying into her shoulder.
◉‿◉
TESSA.
"I've never seen her so hurt, Hardin. And she just cried on my shoulder. It broke my heart." I whisper as Hardin rubs his hand up and down my body chastely.
"Is she alright now?" He questions, and I nod my head.
"I think she is." I reply, "she's not okay with it, of course, but she stopped crying."
I feel Hardin's head nod, and his hair tickles my nose. His head is on my shoulder, his cheek pressed against the pad just below my shoulder bone. His hand keeps rubbing my hips and my chest, but it isn't in a seductive way. More absentmindedly than anything. I know he isn't trying to have sex, because he has made it very clear he is not doing that until I'm healed. 'I don't want to hurt you.' He said. But there is still desire in his eyes, which I'm grateful for.
We could just be very careful. But I guess it's okay for now. It has been exactly six days without sex and I can tell both of us are getting anxious.
We are the type of couple who can't go without each other for more than two days and a half. Is that a bit much? Probably. I don't know anyone else's sex life though. Maybe we are normal.
"I'm glad she decided to stay." Hardin mutters, his hand lingering over my chest. "I don't think she would be able to stay away from us."
I huff lightly, "why? She's away from us all the time."
"Yeah, but it's different. She'd be living with that kid, and he probably doesn't know a fuck about anything either." I rub my hand from his back to the back of his hair.
"Hardin, she isn't a kid anymore. She has been through a lot and she is practically an adult now anyways." I say, when I realize he isn't going to speak I continue, "they lived in a hotel together for almost a week and they were perfectly fine."
"I still don't understand why you are siding with her." He snaps, he moves his hand from my chest and gently lays it over my stomach. "I just don't get it. You're usually the one blabbing about finishing school and getting an education. Now you are encouraging her to run away with some asshole—"
"He's not an asshole. That's why. I hadn't seen her that happy since she was a little girl, Hardin. I didn't want to make the same mistake my mom did and keep her from following her dreams and being with who made her happiest."
"If anything, I was ruining your life. Not making you happier."
"And look where we are now, Hardin. Two beautiful kids and two careers that pay the bills."
"Let's not talk about it anymore." Hardin mumbles, "I don't like the thought of her leaving."
I nod my head, running my fingers through his hair and pulling it slightly, just the way he likes it. "I'm getting antsy." I mutter into his forehead.
He pushes himself off of me. "Stop." He whines, plopping down onto his side of the bed. He covers his eyes with his arm. "I'm going to look at houses tomorrow." He mumbles through his arm, and I smile lightly at his behavior. He has never been good at fighting through my seductive voice and touch.
"Okay." I reply, wedging my hand into his right one, and laying down. He squeezes my hand, and I shut my eyes. "Goodnight."
"'Night."
◉‿◉
𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎
We are getting so close to the end and it's making me sad :_(
Chapter sixty five: Mar. 30, 2021