Where the Road Takes Me
Page 56
I wiped frantically at my tears. “Are you coming back?”
He froze midstride, then lifted his gaze and nodded once. “Yeah, Chloe. I’ll be back,” he said quietly, but with so much pity that I hated myself.
Once he had left, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Blake
Josh answered first ring.
“I’m sorry for calling again,” I said as I sat on the curb in front of the hotel.
“Dude. You never have to apologize for that. What’s going on? You want us to come and get you now?”
The word yes caught in my throat. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been silent, not knowing how to respond, when he sighed loudly. “What the hell happened, man? Did you go back and tell her you were leaving?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
It took everything I had to answer him. “I fucked up, Josh.”
“What does that mean?”
“We had sex.”
He sighed again. “And I take it that’s a bad thing?”
“I don’t know what the fuck happened.” I dropped my head between my knees, my hand gripping the phone tighter. “One minute I had my bags packed, ready to leave, and the next thing I know, she’s . . .” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. “She was wasted and she asked me to stay. She threw herself at me, and I didn’t fucking say no. I took advantage of her, Josh. I’m exactly like every other forgettable asshole she’s ever fucked.” I wiped my eyes, grateful that Josh couldn’t see me crying.
He was quiet a long moment before he asked, “Do you honestly believe that?”
I shook my head, my tears falling freely. “I don’t want to, Josh, but maybe I had it wrong. Maybe I thought this was something more than it really is. Maybe I’m nothing to her . . . or I’m just a fling, someone to have a good time with until she decides she wants to be invisible again.” I let out a bitter laugh. “How did I not see this coming?”
Josh cleared his throat. I heard movement on the other end, as if he was sitting up and pushing the covers off him. “You wanna know what I think?”
“I think you’re gonna tell me anyway.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“About which part exactly?”
“All of it.” He paused a beat before continuing. “I think that it’s human nature that when people get scared, they do stupid things. All you have to do is look at Natalie for proof. As far as Chloe goes—you and I may not agree with the way she lives her life, but we can’t really disagree with her reasoning behind it. Chloe kept everyone at arm’s length, even the people she calls family. But you, Hunter, you’re there with her. She let you in. And you—you haven’t cared about anything the past couple years. You existed, but you didn’t live . . . yet somehow, there you are, with a girl that you may be in love with, and you finally care. Whatever happens, if you stay or if you leave, you need to decide whether it’s worth giving all of that up.”
Chloe
For two hours I lay in bed, wide-awake, waiting for him to come back. I wondered if he’d come in silently, get his bags, and leave. I waited. And waited. And finally, at around five in the morning, against my will, I succumbed to exhaustion.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep before the sound of the door opening startled me awake. I didn’t dare move. If he was going to leave, he had every right, and the perfect opportunity to do it. I heard his footsteps and then the shower running. It was only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When the pipes clanked and the water switched off, I pulled the covers over my head—hiding out—surrounded by my own self-pity and self-loathing. He sighed—the sound deafening in the dead silence of the room. Then the bed dipped and he lay down behind me, gently placing his arm over my waist and pulling me to him, the other arm under my pillow and around my chest.
And then he held me. Tight.
All while I silently cried in his arms.
I cried for me.
I cried for him.
I cried for the future we’d never have.
And I cried because he had absolutely no idea about any of it.
He wasn’t in bed when I woke up. What was there, though, was a throbbing in my head, no doubt from my crying. My endless, fucking crying. As I sat up, I noticed his bags but no note on the pillow. He always left a note.
Then I heard his voice. “Yeah, Ma.”
I turned to see him sitting out on the balcony, holding his phone to his ear.
“I know,” he said. “I love you, too.”
He pulled back, looked at the screen, tapped it once, and placed it on the table. And then he just sat there.
I got out of bed and made us coffee, like I did every morning. I refused to look at him when I brought it out to him. I just set it on the table and turned to leave him alone, but I didn’t get far before his arm curled around my waist and he pulled me down onto his lap.
We stayed like that, with me on his lap and his arm around me, neither of us speaking.
He rested his chin on my shoulder and kissed my cheek softly. I must have been so tense, so stiff in his arms that he felt the need to say, “You can breathe, Chloe. It’s okay.”
I finally did.
“What happened last night . . .”
I didn’t know if it was a question or not, so I began to answer. “I’m not—”
His hand gripped my shirt, causing me to stop. “It wasn’t a question. I just . . . I need a minute to find the words.” He inhaled a heavy breath.
I waited.
“What happened last night shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you the way I did.” I went to interrupt him, but he cut me off. “Just let me finish, please?”
I nodded.
“I know you well enough to know that when you said you wanted to lose yourself that something deeper was going on. I wish that you would have shared it with me, but you didn’t, and that was your choice. I can’t force you to talk to me, no matter how upset it makes me that you didn’t. I chased after you when you left because I wanted to be with you, Chloe. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye, and you knew that. We both knew that. And we both knew that our time was limited. We talked about that. If you wanted more than that . . . if you wanted me to promise you something more . . . you should’ve asked. But I didn’t know, and you never told me.”
He positioned me so I was sideways, and he could look at me. “But if last night is what it’s going to be like . . . if things get hard for you, and you choose to keep pushing me away, then I’ll leave.”
He froze midstride, then lifted his gaze and nodded once. “Yeah, Chloe. I’ll be back,” he said quietly, but with so much pity that I hated myself.
Once he had left, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
Blake
Josh answered first ring.
“I’m sorry for calling again,” I said as I sat on the curb in front of the hotel.
“Dude. You never have to apologize for that. What’s going on? You want us to come and get you now?”
The word yes caught in my throat. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been silent, not knowing how to respond, when he sighed loudly. “What the hell happened, man? Did you go back and tell her you were leaving?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
It took everything I had to answer him. “I fucked up, Josh.”
“What does that mean?”
“We had sex.”
He sighed again. “And I take it that’s a bad thing?”
“I don’t know what the fuck happened.” I dropped my head between my knees, my hand gripping the phone tighter. “One minute I had my bags packed, ready to leave, and the next thing I know, she’s . . .” I couldn’t even finish the sentence. “She was wasted and she asked me to stay. She threw herself at me, and I didn’t fucking say no. I took advantage of her, Josh. I’m exactly like every other forgettable asshole she’s ever fucked.” I wiped my eyes, grateful that Josh couldn’t see me crying.
He was quiet a long moment before he asked, “Do you honestly believe that?”
I shook my head, my tears falling freely. “I don’t want to, Josh, but maybe I had it wrong. Maybe I thought this was something more than it really is. Maybe I’m nothing to her . . . or I’m just a fling, someone to have a good time with until she decides she wants to be invisible again.” I let out a bitter laugh. “How did I not see this coming?”
Josh cleared his throat. I heard movement on the other end, as if he was sitting up and pushing the covers off him. “You wanna know what I think?”
“I think you’re gonna tell me anyway.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“About which part exactly?”
“All of it.” He paused a beat before continuing. “I think that it’s human nature that when people get scared, they do stupid things. All you have to do is look at Natalie for proof. As far as Chloe goes—you and I may not agree with the way she lives her life, but we can’t really disagree with her reasoning behind it. Chloe kept everyone at arm’s length, even the people she calls family. But you, Hunter, you’re there with her. She let you in. And you—you haven’t cared about anything the past couple years. You existed, but you didn’t live . . . yet somehow, there you are, with a girl that you may be in love with, and you finally care. Whatever happens, if you stay or if you leave, you need to decide whether it’s worth giving all of that up.”
Chloe
For two hours I lay in bed, wide-awake, waiting for him to come back. I wondered if he’d come in silently, get his bags, and leave. I waited. And waited. And finally, at around five in the morning, against my will, I succumbed to exhaustion.
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep before the sound of the door opening startled me awake. I didn’t dare move. If he was going to leave, he had every right, and the perfect opportunity to do it. I heard his footsteps and then the shower running. It was only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When the pipes clanked and the water switched off, I pulled the covers over my head—hiding out—surrounded by my own self-pity and self-loathing. He sighed—the sound deafening in the dead silence of the room. Then the bed dipped and he lay down behind me, gently placing his arm over my waist and pulling me to him, the other arm under my pillow and around my chest.
And then he held me. Tight.
All while I silently cried in his arms.
I cried for me.
I cried for him.
I cried for the future we’d never have.
And I cried because he had absolutely no idea about any of it.
He wasn’t in bed when I woke up. What was there, though, was a throbbing in my head, no doubt from my crying. My endless, fucking crying. As I sat up, I noticed his bags but no note on the pillow. He always left a note.
Then I heard his voice. “Yeah, Ma.”
I turned to see him sitting out on the balcony, holding his phone to his ear.
“I know,” he said. “I love you, too.”
He pulled back, looked at the screen, tapped it once, and placed it on the table. And then he just sat there.
I got out of bed and made us coffee, like I did every morning. I refused to look at him when I brought it out to him. I just set it on the table and turned to leave him alone, but I didn’t get far before his arm curled around my waist and he pulled me down onto his lap.
We stayed like that, with me on his lap and his arm around me, neither of us speaking.
He rested his chin on my shoulder and kissed my cheek softly. I must have been so tense, so stiff in his arms that he felt the need to say, “You can breathe, Chloe. It’s okay.”
I finally did.
“What happened last night . . .”
I didn’t know if it was a question or not, so I began to answer. “I’m not—”
His hand gripped my shirt, causing me to stop. “It wasn’t a question. I just . . . I need a minute to find the words.” He inhaled a heavy breath.
I waited.
“What happened last night shouldn’t have happened. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you the way I did.” I went to interrupt him, but he cut me off. “Just let me finish, please?”
I nodded.
“I know you well enough to know that when you said you wanted to lose yourself that something deeper was going on. I wish that you would have shared it with me, but you didn’t, and that was your choice. I can’t force you to talk to me, no matter how upset it makes me that you didn’t. I chased after you when you left because I wanted to be with you, Chloe. I wasn’t ready to say good-bye, and you knew that. We both knew that. And we both knew that our time was limited. We talked about that. If you wanted more than that . . . if you wanted me to promise you something more . . . you should’ve asked. But I didn’t know, and you never told me.”
He positioned me so I was sideways, and he could look at me. “But if last night is what it’s going to be like . . . if things get hard for you, and you choose to keep pushing me away, then I’ll leave.”
