32. Opal
THIRTY-TWO
Opal
“ S o, where are we going?”
He shrugs. “I figured we could just talk here. Or…” his voice trails off. “Dad would probably love to see you.”
“You’re staying with your dad?”
He nods.
Despite living down the street, I haven’t talked to Paul since Alex left. Not because there’s bad blood between us or anything like that, but because it would’ve been too painful. I needed a clean cut. He’s waved to me here and there, but over the past few years it’s seemed like he hardly goes outside anymore.
“Fine,” I cross my arms. “I’ll need a ride home anyway, since Maisie drove me here.”
He leads me to a parking lot behind the bar, and I awkwardly follow a couple of steps behind him. I open the passenger side door of his van. It’s basically exactly what I’d expect, old and a little bit messy. “So, you’ve been living in this?”
“Pretty much,” he says as he starts the engine and backs out of the parking spot.
This is so weird, and I’m already regretting my decision. “You don’t get tired of it?”
He shrugs, the streetlights that we pass illuminate his face for a second before it’s dark again. “Sometimes it’s lonely.”
Raindrops start to sprinkle across the windshield. I search his stoic face for an explanation, but his gaze doesn’t leave the road. “What is? Traveling all the time?”
He nods. “There are things I love about it. I’ve met a lot of cool people, seen some really cool places. But sometimes it sucks not having a place to call home.” He pulls into his old driveway before throwing the van in park.
The house is still about the same as it ever was, albeit a little dirtier maybe. I can’t help but smile softly at the familiarity of it. I didn’t think I’d ever see the inside of this place again.
“You’re home already?” His dad walks into the room, he looks significantly older than the last time I saw him. His hair has started to gray and his face bears more wrinkles than before, he also looks skinnier.
“Well I’ll be damned.” He walks towards me with a huge smile and his arms stretched wide before giving me a hug. “Where’d you find her?” He asks Alex.
“She was at Hondo’s.” His mouth is in a flat line, he doesn’t seem too happy about his dad’s reaction. I can’t help but find it a little amusing, his dad always loved me.
“We missed you,” he says quietly enough that Alex probably can’t hear.
I give him a weak smile in return, not knowing how to respond.
“I’m gonna turn in soon,” Paul says to no one in particular.
“That’s fine, Dad. Your meds are on the counter.”
I noticed Alex carrying in a bunch of pill bottles, I was wondering what they’re for. I’m relieved to learn they aren’t his recreational drug stash. Even if it’s none of my business. His dad makes his way down the hall and doesn’t return, and then Alex and I are left alone in the small foyer.
I look up from the floor and see he’s silently staring at me, I’m suddenly acutely aware of the way I look. When we dated I usually wore a full face of makeup and did my hair every day, the way most teenage girls do, now I’m much less fussy with my appearance. I wonder what I look like through his eyes.
It doesn’t fucking matter, Opal.
“You want something to drink?” He says before passing by me to walk into the kitchen.
I hate how formal this all feels. We used to make love on the couch in here, and now we’re acting like complete strangers. “Water, please.”
He goes to the kitchen and fills up a glass with water before grabbing himself a La Croix from the fridge. He sits down beside me, but keeps a few feet of space between us. The same awkward silence from the car ride hangs in the air between us. Maybe this was a dumb decision. Is he even going to talk?
“I wasn’t sober the night that we last talked, I’m sure you’ve gathered that.”
A sarcastic laugh escapes me. “Uh, yeah. You were drunk as fuck and slurring your words.”
A pained look splashes over his face, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Opal, I didn’t even know that we broke up. The next morning I was so confused when I couldn’t get in touch with you, when I was blocked from all of your accounts.”
“And I’m supposed to feel sorry for you because you decided to drink too much?”
“No. You shouldn’t, at all.” He squeezes his eyes shut tight. “I knew our relationship was starting to suffer, and I know that was my fault, too. I should’ve tried harder, I should’ve communicated better. I just…I didn’t know how to fix it.”
I’m tempted to say something sarcastic again, but I keep my mouth shut, hoping he’ll say something that convinces me it was a worthwhile idea to come over here.
“I was headed down a dark path and I didn’t want to drag you along with me. I started pushing you away because I was scared of hurting you, and I know that doesn’t make sense…but nothing I was doing made any sense. I was drunk or high most of the time.”
“That’s not an excuse for cheating,” I say under my breath.
“I didn’t. I know what it looked like, but I was passed out in that photo. I didn’t even know she’d taken it.”
The memory of that picture still haunts me, as much as I wish it wouldn’t. But I can’t deny that he did look half asleep in it, his eyes were closed and his head was slumped against her shoulder. That doesn’t mean I believe a word he’s saying though, anything could have happened during their time together. I was here, alone, while he was living out his dream with her by his side.
“You didn’t fight for us,” I whisper. The truth is that if he had just stopped me from trying to break up with him that night, none of this would have happened. Instead he let me go willingly, and that’s really what hurt more than anything. How little he cared.
“I tried…” he closes his eyes. “I had no way to get in touch with you.”
“You didn’t try, though. You said fuck it, those were your exact words. You didn’t care at all.” A silent tear slides down my cheek and I angrily wipe it away, I don’t want to be sad right now. I don’t want to feel anything. “You could have come back for me and you chose not to.”
“You were going to college, you had real plans for your future. I didn’t want to fuck your life up any more than I had already. I know it sounds crazy, but I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“College?” my voice comes out as a whisper. “I never even left Willow Grove. I’ve been here this whole time.”
“Baby,” he sighs. He closes his eyes as if it’s painful to look at me.
“No, you don’t get to call me that.” It’s getting harder to hold back the sobs racking my chest. It hurts too much, I can’t do this.
I stand up and grab my purse off the coffee table, rushing toward the front door.
“Opal, please,” he grabs my hand and I pull it away. “Don’t go.”
“No, Alex. I can’t do it. Not again.” I turn on my heel and open the door, pulling it closed behind me and walking out into the rain. My tears mix with the raindrops falling onto my face as I start walking down his driveway toward my house, wrapping my arms around my torso as if I can physically stop myself from falling apart.
I hear the door open behind me, but I keep my head forward and continue walking.
“Opal,” his voice is close behind me, and I feel the graze of his fingertips on my upper arm.
I yank it away from him and don’t look in his direction. “Forget it, Alex. It’s not worth it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’ll be leaving again anyway, so why bother?” I turn my head to face him. “This is just a waste of my time and yours.”
He’s quiet, his eyes are somber as they study mine. “I should have never left.”
“A little late for that,” I huff a laugh.
“I’ve thought about you every single day since I left.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t forget you. No matter how much I tried, you were still the first thing I thought of in the morning and the last thing I thought of at night. I always hoped you were living a happy life, even without me in it. I hoped you had gone to college, studied something you were passionate about, had a great job and plenty of money. I wanted you to be happy. I thought staying away from you would help that happen.”
I shake my head and cross my arms. “You never cared. Not like I did.”
“What?” His voice is strained and quiet.
“I always wanted you more than you wanted me. You always had other plans for the future, other girls that wanted your attention. I wasn’t enough for you, I wasn’t a good enough reason to stay.”
“You were always enough.”
“No, I wasn’t. I always liked you more, I was always waiting for you to feel the same way. And you never did. You never will.” It’s raining harder now, and my hair is soaked, water droplets stream down my face in rivulets and at this point I can’t tell them apart from my tears.
For a second he just stares at me, his eyes filled with agony and regret, his lips twitching like he’s unsure about what he wants to say next.
“I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Riding your bike with your hair in two braids. I fell in love with you again the day you told those assholes to stop messing with me at lunch in sixth grade. I fell in love with you a third time when you accepted me for who I am when no one else did. And I fell in love with you every single day after that.” He steps toward me and gently grabs my waist with both hands, pulling my body flush with his. “Don’t say I never loved you, Opal. I fucked up in so many ways, but I never lied about that, I’ve always loved you.”
My mouth hangs open and my heart races, but my mind has run out of words. His eyes are rimmed with red, and his lips tremble the same way mine are. We stare at each other for a moment, the rain still pouring down on us in the middle of our childhood street.
I slam my lips against his, threading my hands through his hair to pull him closer. My belly dips and the breath leaves my chest, just like the very first time we kissed. The taste of his tongue is the same, the softness of his lips is the same, everything is the same except for the stinging pain that hangs in the air around us.
A low moan escapes his throat and his hands move from my waist to wrap beneath my ass before he easily lifts me off the ground. I wrap my legs around his waist, feeling like I need every inch of him to touch every inch of me. I need to feel him everywhere, to make sure he’s really here, that this is really happening. I feel like I’m floating, like I’m in a dream that will shift into a different reality if I simply pinch myself or open my eyes.
A crack of booming thunder interrupts us, and I gasp against his mouth, my eyes snapping open.
“Come on,” he carries me back onto the porch and through the front door. We’re both drenched in water and dripping onto the floor. He kisses me again, this time gentler and slower, as he kicks the front door closed behind him.
I should turn around and walk right back out. I know I’m being stupid, but I can’t stop it. It’s like every molecule in my body is screaming out for him as if he’s the only source of oxygen that my lungs can breathe.
The next thing I know I’m laying down in a soft, warm bed and his body is on top of me, my legs still wrapped around him. I grind against him, only my thin underwear separating me from his jeans. He groans into my mouth and my core aches with need for more friction.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers against my lips. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful, bluebird. I didn’t think that was possible.” His hand creeps up my thigh and under my skirt, leaving sparks in its wake, and he drags a finger across my folds through the soft cotton of my underwear. That tiny bit of contact makes me feel like I could spontaneously combust. I’m suddenly reminded of what I’ve been missing for five years, what I’ve been trying so hard to forget. All of the work I’ve done to put it out of my mind has been ripped apart with a simple touch.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans.
He gently moves the fabric aside and dips one finger inside me, I try to stifle the moan that escapes me but it’s useless. I feel like I have very little control over my body and its reactions at this point.
“Does he make you this wet? That guy you’re seeing,” he whispers against my neck as he explores my body, rediscovering everything that’s changed since the last time we were together. My eyes squeeze shut, and I shake my head slightly. I feel him smile against my skin, his lips brushing over mine, “I didn’t think so.”
My hands move to the fly of his jeans, and I quickly unbutton them before reaching in to feel him. His soft flesh is hard against my fingertips. He hisses when I wrap my hand around it.
We quickly shed our clothes, my brain on autopilot. He pulls off my underwear and tosses them onto the floor, his eyes grazing over my body as I lay beneath him. “You’re perfect,” he says quietly before his eyes meet mine again. Seconds later he’s on top of me again, crushing his lips onto mine.
I spread my legs and he sinks into me effortlessly, our bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that have been searching for each other for too long. A soft moan escapes us both when he pushes all the way inside me, filling me to the hilt.
“God, I missed you so much.” He pulls out of me slowly, our mouths still meld together.
He stares down at me, his heavy-lidded eyes filled with lust as he intertwines our fingers, pinning both my hands above my head on the pillow before thrusting back into me. A rough groan leaves his throat, his mouth dropping open slightly. “Fuck, Opal.”
His thrusts become harder and faster. I grasp onto his shoulders and wrap my legs around his waist, begging him to stay buried inside me a little bit longer. I want to stay in this alternate reality for as long as I can, because I know as soon as it’s over, this spell will be broken and I’ll have to face the consequences of my actions.
“Wanna make you come, baby,” he says between heavy breaths. He reaches between our bodies which are now covered in a sheen of sweat, and rubs delicate circles over my clit.
“Alex,” my breath hitches. I forgot how easily this man knows how to drive me crazy. He knows my body just as well as I do, even after years of being apart. The combination of sensations brings me somewhere very close to heaven, and within seconds I’m hovering over the edge of euphoria.
“That’s right, baby. Come for me, it’s okay,” his lips brush against the shell of my ear and send chills down my neck. My nails dig into the skin of his back as I ride out the intensity of my orgasm, and soon he follows behind me, his limp body collapsing on top of mine.
“Stay with me.” His voice is soft and begging as he moves a strand of wet hair out of my eyes.
I want to say no, I want him to think it didn’t matter to me, that it was just sex and nothing else. But right now I feel too defeated and emotionally exhausted to put up another fight, let alone to try and walk home again in the pouring rain. Heavy raindrops are still pelting against the window beside his bed, and the sound of thunder is audible in the distance.
I nod my head once and tuck myself under his arm, relishing in the familiar feeling of his skin against mine that I’ve missed so much, while also telling myself that it’s only for tonight. That’s all it can be. Because despite whatever nice words he wants to throw at me, I know the type of man he is. I know he’ll never be the type of man that stays.