The sun brings with it the gloom of the night before, so I pull the blankets up over my head and bask in it. And that’s where I stay all day, as well as the one that follows, but by the time the third day rolls around, Cameron is climbing on top of my desk, yanking my curtains down. Literally.
She tosses them on the floor, kicking them under the bed, her hands falling to her hips. “Get up. Shower. I’m making you food.”
“I’m not hungry.” I flip onto my opposite side, staring at the wall.
She rips my blankets off, and I squeeze my eyes shut, rolling over onto my back.
“Girlfriend, I know everything sucks right now, but you can’t do this.”
My eyes move to hers and she offers a small smile. Stepping forward, she pats the mattress. “Get up, get fresh. Plug in your phone.”
I wince and her shoulders fall.
“You know he didn’t call,” she whispers. “He told you he needed a few days.”
Moisture pricks my eyes, and I nod. “I know.”
She snags my phone off my desk and walks over to set it on the charging station beside my bed. “Then you have nothing to be afraid of, sister. Now, up. Or I’ll pull out the big guns… and call Mason.”
Squeezing my arm, she smiles and walks out, so before I can talk myself out of it, I drag myself into the bathroom, locking myself inside.
Even though I spent the last two days in bed, I had no false hope of sleeping, and I didn’t. I laid awake most of the time, searching for words to say to Noah, but no matter how many versions of I’m sorry, please forgive me, I run through, none are enough. Not by a longshot.
Noah came into my life at a time when I needed a friend, and that’s exactly what he became. He was the one who inadvertently helped me through the bullshit I allowed myself to fall into after everything with Chase, so he saw how deep my feelings ran. How hard it was to let go and every other embarrassing moment I eagerly shared. Hell, Noah’s the one who helped me heal and I didn’t even know it happened until one day something changed. Suddenly, the man I lost sleep thinking about wasn’t the one it used to be.
I fell for Noah, and I fell hard.
If you asked me a few days ago if there was a pain point in our relationship, I’d have sworn no such thing existed. Now I realize how blind I’ve been. Him and me, we do have a sore spot.
Chase.
The thing is, only one of us felt it.
The never-ending unease.
The fear that at any moment the person you want might decide they want someone else.
I knew Chase would be in my life forever in one way or another. I knew this before and after we crossed the line, and Noah chose to accept that. He got to know me, grew to like me, and showed how much he wanted me, while well aware the one man from my past would be a constant in my future.
So, for me to do what I did and carelessly use a moment with Noah to show my anger for the man he feared losing me to was just… fucked up.
I fucked up and I can’t take it back.
I hurt a man I’d do anything for.
I’ve never been so foolish.
All I want to do is call him, rush to his house, and spill my regrets at his feet. I want to beg him for forgiveness.
But I won’t. Not yet.
He asked for time, so I’m trying to give it to him.
It’s the least I can do.
Unfortunately for me, when I make it back to my room, picking up my phone for the first time in days, the other person involved wants the opposite of space.
A string of messages waits for me, every one of them from Chase.
With a deep breath, I open them up, the first being from the night he walked in on us.
12:05am, Chase: What the hell was that?
12:15am, Chase: Why aren’t you answering?
12:25am, Chase: Whatever, Ari. Hope you’re having fun.
1:47am, Chase: Can we talk?
Angry tears prick my eyes and I growl.
I hate this.
Everything is wrong and I don’t know how to fix it, so I do the only thing I can and engross myself in my studies, determined to, at the very least, end the semester with the best grades I’m capable of, all the while wishing that each hour passing will be the hour Noah calls.
But he doesn’t and it’s killing me.
Noah
This is fucking killing me.
In the three days since I watched Ari disappear inside her dorm, it’s as if I forgot how to function in a world where she isn’t with me, because even when she wasn’t physically, she was always still there, in the back of my mind, in the front of my mind. She was all fucking over.
But with each day passing, it feels like she’s slipping away a little more.
A little further.
Before, if I wasn’t with her, I was counting down the minutes until I could be.
Now, I sit around watching the clock tick round with no end. The hand turns and turns, tightening my chest like a wrench, stripping me of my threads and leaving me a gutted mess that can’t be repaired.
Everyone knows that the only way to fix a fucked-up bolt is to rip it from the stud, and I’m feeling that. It’s as if my heart is being torn out, straight through my bruised ribs.
I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, asking her to think of him.
What if she did?
What if that’s it for us?
What if she becomes my greatest loss as I turn into her deepest regret?
What if my worst fears are the furthest thing from the fucking truth?
What if my baby is hurting, dying inside like me?
Slowly, and a little more each day?
Twice as hard each night?
What is she misses me, and all she wants is for my arms to wrap around her, for me to pull her in and tell it’s okay? That we’re okay, and that I love her with all I am and want her for all she is?
That right there is about enough to kill me.
The mere thought of being the reason behind her pain is too much for me.
I’m sick to my stomach, my muscles ache.
My head and my heart are at war, and I’m not sure either can win.
Because I did this.
I asked my girl to consider that maybe I’m not the one for her, knowing all the while, she is the only one for me.
I need my baby, and I can only fucking hope, she needs me just as much.
