Chapter 11 #3
He waits for an answer, but I say nothing. I can’t. There’s too much he doesn’t understand. There’s too much he can never know. If I tell him, it will tear everything apart. For the first time in longer than I can remember, I feel happy. I don’t want to lose that now.
A long silence stretches out between us, and Caleb eventually pushes himself up on his elbows to look down at me.
His lips are still swollen from earlier, from the way he pulled me down his throat, gagging and gasping.
His hair is slightly messy from the way I threaded my fingers through it, making him take me just the way I wanted.
But then he pulls my mind from the blowjob when he asks, “This another one of your secrets?”
I swallow and bite back a sigh. “Pre-law or pre-med were the two majors I could pick from.”
“Yeah, figured, but what else? You made it seem like more than one thing was holding you back.”
I clear my throat and run a hand up his back. Agitation wells up inside of me with the prying. But then again, he deserves the answers I can give him.
“Nothing else significant. Just some minor stipulations.”
That’s a lie, but it’s enough to stop his prying. Instead, he lays his head on my chest, his fingers playing with my nipple once more.
“Is working with your uncle and your cousins really what you want?” I ask him, trying to turn the tables on him.
“Yeah, I’m a simple guy. The scrapyard is job security, and I can make a steady income. My business degree will help them out.”
“You don’t ever have any higher aspirations?”
“What? Being engaged to a dude who works with scrap isn’t lofty enough for you?”
I squeeze his neck. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You kind of meant it. Admit it. Guys like you don’t usually go for guys like me.”
That was true a month ago. Now I don’t know what I ever saw in anyone else.
“So, where will you go to law school?” he asks.
My hands still, and I feel dread well up inside of me. This is one of the things I haven’t told him, hoping like hell I’d never have to. But here I am.
“Harvard, most likely,” I rasp.
Once again, he leans up and stares down at me. “Shit, that’s across the country, Whit.”
I wet my lips, my eyes flicking from his to the wall. “Yeah.”
“Have you been accepted yet?”
“No, I need to take the LSAT and then go from there, but that’s the school of choice. My parents have insisted on it.”
“What if you wanted to stay here? There have to be some good schools nearby?”
“There are but…I just don’t know if it’s possible.”
“What if there’s an incentive to stay?”
He kisses me softly, and I feel my heart shatter slightly. The hope he has in his gaze. I can’t give it to him. I can’t.
“We barely know each other, Caleb.”
“I know,” he replies, kissing me deeper, almost as if trying to convince me to stay with his tongue, with his body. And it almost works.
Almost.
When he finally pulls away, he places his forehead on mine. “But I feel like I’ve known you forever. It just works with us. So…if you insist on Harvard, I’m sure I could find work out there.”
I feel myself go rigid beneath him, my breath locking in my chest as I stare up at him. He’s waiting for something I know I can’t give him. His eyes search mine, and I can’t make myself look away. I wish I could. That would be easier.
Silence hangs between us, and I see the moment it hits him.
“Of course, that’s only if you want me out there with you. I’d be crazy to follow you around. I’m not Sem.”
I relax slightly at those words, but the fragile, splintered hope he has in his eyes has me asking, “Can we table this conversation for another time, Caleb? I’d…I’d like to just have this evening with you without the future looming over us.”
He nods and presses his face to my chest again, but I hear the sniffle, can see his eyelashes fluttering.
My mind desperately tries to change the subject, and I ramble on about nothing important. He’s not responding or even following my conversation, too distracted by what I said. Because my words hurt him.
Or the lack thereof.
“I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?” I finally ask.
“Nah,” he mutters, pressing his face against my neck.
“You’re acting…sad.”
“I’m not sad, just coming to terms with some things.”
“I’m so sorry, Caleb,” I whisper, my voice cracking slightly.
“Don’t be. You were never anything but honest with me.”
Silence engulfs us, thick enough that I can feel every word we don’t say. He should pull away, end it. Tell me to go fuck myself. But instead of doing that, he falls into a restless sleep, curled around me.
Like he’s bracing for the inevitable end.
I can’t stay. Even though I want to.
Gently, I peel myself from his clinging grasp, his fingers tightening for a moment before they fall away. Everything feels colder now that I’m no longer against him, beneath him.
But even so, I still grab my bag and sneak out of the apartment, hoping to get some homework done. All my free time has been spent wrapped around Caleb, folded in his warmth.
I’ve fallen behind. My assignments are untouched, deadlines looming. But as soon as I’m in the coffee shop, my laptop out, my textbook beside me, I find my mind wandering back to Caleb, to the wounded look in his eyes when I didn’t answer him about our future.
The way he seemed to crack slightly as I tore his hope to shreds.
He thinks I don’t want him to come with me to Harvard. He thinks I’m pushing him away.
If he only knew.
Having him there would be a dream.
It’s a dream I can’t even really fathom because doing so hurts.
But dreams aren’t reality. My reality isn’t mine to shape. I’ve learned that the hard way.
It’s just not possible. We aren’t possible.
I’ve never broken free from my family and I don’t think I’ll be able to start now.
I glance down at my phone, pulling up a chat thread from my mother and then one from my father. Demanding, arguing, pushing. Like they always do.
They could never just love me. I was a means to an end.
And as much as I long to run, to give it all up. I don’t know if I can.
Not even for him.