57
Valentina
Imay have gotten three hours of sleep since Huxley left Saturday night. Now it’s Monday, and I can’t stop thinking about our relationship.
Excuse me. I mean our deal.
I was so blinded by everything we had done these past few months that these past couple of weeks have been hell. And the only way I know how to stop all of this is to break up with him.
Or end it.
Whatever the right fucking term is.
I just can’t do this anymore.
Huxley Adams is a guy who has sex with every girl who comes up to him. I know he hates it. I know it isn’t the only thing that defines him. But it’s still the biggest part of him. And it’s a part of him that I don’t see leaving when we end this.
I’ve been giving him more of my body. Letting him touch and see more of me than anyone has. And since he hasn’t done anything in these past few months—god, I hope not, because I can’t handle him cheating on me also—he’s probably losing his mind.
A touch is tiding him over. And that’s all it is.
He says sweet words to keep me within reach, making me feel good with his touch, which only makes me want more. But he’s pulling me along, which is my fault when I really think about it. I’m the one who agreed to this deal. I knew what I was getting myself into. But it has to end.
Huxley shows up at exactly six this morning, and my heart does a little stutter that I want to stomp all over. I shouldn’t be getting excited over him showing up on time to take me to the airport.
Or maybe it isn’t excitement. Maybe it’s the fear of getting into his truck, knowing I’m going to break up with him soon. Sadly, I’d take the fear over the excitement right now.
I slide my bag on the bench seat of his truck and then pull myself up. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him start to lean towards me, so I turn and grab my seatbelt, making his lips press into my cheek.
He softly laughs. “Good morning, sleepy head.” I hear the smile in his voice, and it only sends deeper pain into my chest.
“Morning,” I mumble. I lock my seatbelt into place and stare forward.
“Valentine?” His voice drops from soft and light to heavy with concern. But I don’t have the energy to keep up an act.
“Hmm?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Everything. “I’m just tired.”
God, do those words hit more than the obvious. I’m so tired of this deal. I’m so tired of getting my heart broken whenever he’s near me. But most of all, I’m tired of putting myself through this.
“Are you okay?”
I can’t look at him. If I look at him, I’ll fall. I’m tired of that, too. It’s more fun to fall when you know someone will catch you.
But he’ll let me slip through his arms. He might even push me.
I nod. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
Silence fills the truck before Huxley finally starts the engine and pulls out of the parking lot. I close my eyes, hoping to get even a minute of sleep, but my mind is too wired to calm down.
Lack of sleep isn’t helping either. Somehow, I’m too awake to sleep but too tired to stay awake. It makes my head dizzy, and the next thing I know, we’re pulling up at the airport.
I pray for Huxley to drop me off and leave, but he goes through security and grabs my hand, walking me to my terminal. His hand squeezes mine tightly the whole way. If he didn’t, mine would slip through.
We make it to my gate, and he stays, sitting in one of the waiting chairs and pulling me next to him. He still holds my hand as if I’ll float away if he lets go.
Let go. Just let me go.
But he doesn’t. So we sit there hand in hand, staring straight ahead like we were forced to come here together. Like we’re two strangers who just met, but need physical touch, or we’ll explode.
I glance at the clock on the wall as it ticks closer to my boarding time.
I couldn’t be more grateful. I need out of here. I need to be away from Huxley. Maybe I won’t come back.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he suddenly asks, crushing my hopes that we’ll stay quiet until I leave so I don’t have to keep my emotions in check.
“I’m fine.” I still keep my eyes forward.
“Are you nervous about flying or something?”
I shake my head slowly. “No.”
Thankfully, the people around me start to stand, so I do the same. I grab my bag to get in line, but Huxley grabs my arm. I mess up and look directly at him, seeing all the concern and fear I’d been hearing in his voice all morning.
“You can’t get on that plane like this,” he says with a strained voice.
“Huxley, I have to go.” I try to move, but he holds me in place.
“Is it me?” he asks. I just stare at him, unable to say no but equally unable to say yes. “What did I do? How did I hurt you?”
I shake my head. “You didn’t hurt me.”
I hurt myself.
He pulls in a deep breath to calm himself down, but the concern remains as a permanent fixture on his face. “Fine. How did I upset you? Because you’re upset, and if it’s not these other things, then it has to be me, so what did I do?”
“Why would I have any reason to be upset with you?”
Exactly. I did all of this to myself. I have no reason to be upset with him in any way.
He shrugs, defeated. “I make people upset, Valentina. That’s nothing new. I just don’t want to upset you.”
I pull in a breath to steady my breaking heart and step closer to him. “You didn’t upset me, Huxley Adams,” I whisper, unable to raise my voice without risk of it breaking.
“Then what’s wrong?” he whispers back.
I stare up at his face. The face I’ve fallen in love with. The face that shows concern for me. The face that will never love me back. My fingers softly trace over his temple, moving some of his wilder hair away from his eye.
“I’m going to miss you.” And there it is, my voice cracks on the truth. Not only will I miss him while I’m gone for this next week, but when all of this is over, I’ll be missing him even more.
Huxley releases a deep breath, relief washing over him. He leans down, pressing his forehead into mine. “You have a weird way of showing that, you know.”
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t want to kiss him because I knew it would hurt too much, but when Huxley holds my cheek to lean down, I give him all I have. All the pain and love that sits in my heart, I try to push through our connection. Hoping maybe he’ll feel it and understand what’s really wrong here.
That I’m falling apart. But even he can’t save me now.
“I’m going to miss you too, Love,” he tells me with his lips still ghosting over mine.
“You better.”
He laughs and pulls back, catching a few tears that slipped through. Then he pulls me into a hug, and I hold on as tight as I can.
Here in his arms is the safest I’ve felt in my life. And even though losing him will kill me, there’s no reason for him to stay.
And whose fault is that? Please stop.
“Fly safe, Love.”
“Don’t worry,” I say with a new shot of energy from his kiss. “I’m an excellent pilot.”
He laughs a little stronger than before and leans down to kiss me again. “Have fun. Text me when you can. Call if you get the chance. And send me photos every day. Especially the red dress.”
“If you say anything else, I’m going to have to get some paper to write this all down.”
He kisses my forehead. “Be safe,” he whispers.
I pull away from him and pretend to write that on my hand. “Anything else for you, Sir?”
A weak smile touches his lips as he tucks some hair behind my ear. “Just come back to me.”
My eyes widen, and when I don’t move for several seconds, he glances down at my hand. “Write that down,” he whispers with tears forming in his eyes.
I pretend to write that on my hand and feel my own tears slip through.
This isn’t how I expected this moment to go.
I thought he’d leave me to my silence and then check on me when I arrived in New York.
But now we’re here, both teary-eyed and weakly smiling over being separated from each other.
And even though my mind is telling me Huxley is a damn good actor, my heart is holding onto the fact that he said he’ll miss me.
He reaches up and runs his thumb over my cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Love.”
With a heavy heart and mixed emotions, I grab my bag and get on my plane.