Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96600 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Who would ever give this up?
Who would give it up for me?
* * * *
I didn’t want Matt to go with me to the airport. It would be too difficult. Instead, we said goodbye in the foyer.
“I wish you would take more with you,” he said, nudging the bag beside me. “All of those clothes are yours.”
“I know, but what’s the point in packing them all up if I end up coming right back?” I forced a smile. Something awful, deep in my heart, warned me that I wouldn’t be coming back. That this would be the last time, barring Scott having another wedding, that Matt and I would be together.
And it was such a silly way to feel. Nothing was forcing me to break up with Matt.
“Do you see yourself coming right back?” He asked.
I could barely see myself walking out the door.
“You… You want to be with me, right?” I blurted, never intending to ask the question.
Matt pulled me into his arms, practically crushing me with his embrace. “Are you kidding? Of course I want to be with you. The thought of coming back to this apartment tonight and you being all the way across the country is… Well, it’s not doing anything to me at the moment, because I’m trying not to think about it.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Good. I’m just making sure.”
“I can call you, right?” He asked, kissing the top of my head. “Is that a boundary?”
We were still dating. I hadn’t broken up with him, despite what our parting felt like. “I planned to call you tonight when I got in. And yeah, I expect you to call me. You’re my boyfriend.”
“Good. Because I was worried for a minute there.” He released me and held me at arm’s length. “We’ve been long distance before. We can do it again.”
“Exactly. But maybe don’t call me while you’re fucking someone else.” My stomach soured. I hadn’t even considered the effect our open sexual agreement might have on our relationship when we weren’t physically together.
“Please don’t do that to me either,” he said. “I’m trying not to be insecure here, but it doesn’t feel like it would be fun, in this context.”
I was glad we were on the same page. Otherwise, I’d sit at home worried that he was going to bring home someone more beautiful, more appropriate to his way of life, and they would click, and I would be a complication that had to be dealt with. I didn’t need whoever that ended up being haunting my memory with their ecstatic moans for the rest of my regretful life.
Thoughts like those proved how much I needed to get away and clear my head. My fear that he would somehow forget me or move on because I went back to California would override the common sense telling me to take time and sort things out. Staying to protect my claim on him would be disastrous. And even though I was leaving with the fear that a breakup would be inevitable, if I stayed because of that fear, I’d be sabotaging the relationship.
Poetic. Not realistic. Being realistic sucked.
“Would you agree that for now, while we’re apart, we don’t have sex with other people?” He winced. “God, that sounds so needy.”
I almost wept with relief. “No, it doesn’t. At all. I wanted that. I was afraid to ask but—Oh, that shouldn’t apply to your circle jerk. You need that. For stress.”
“We don’t have sex with each other, anyway,” he assured me. “There are a lot of straight guys there and you know how they get.”
“Right.” I laughed nervously. “This isn’t forever.”
“I hope it’s not.” His eyes roamed over my face, like he was trying to scan a perfect 3D image of me. “I love you, Charlotte. I know you think that’s impossible. But I love you. Whatever you need from me, you can always ask.”
“Thanks.”
His phone chimed. He took it from his pocket and glanced at it. “The car is here.”
I took a breath that sounded more like a gasp. “This is it, then.”
“Don’t say it like that,” he said softly. “Please don’t. Even if you’re lying to me right now and you have no intention of seeing me again, let me pretend it’s see you later and not goodbye.”
Somehow, I managed to smile at him. I put my hand on his cheek—the impulse to throw my arms around him and apologize for even considering leaving was so strong—and said, “It is see you later. I’m going to have to come back and visit my clothes.”
“Right.” He laughed and put his hands in his pockets. “Well… I want to kiss you, but I’m afraid if I do, I’ll drag you back to the bedroom and exhaust you until you’re physically unable to leave.”
I looped my arms around his neck and said, “Don’t say that or I might let you,” before rising up on the balls of my feet to bring our mouths together.