Chapter 8 #2
So, we danced. Barefoot, spinning slowly in the shallows of the lake like we were the only two people left on earth. The rain was cold, but she was warm. For that fleeting moment, I believed she was my forever.
Because she had to be.
There was never going to be anyone else.
I wouldn’t allow it.
When I close my eyes, I can still see her that night. Her eyes shined with raindrops clinging to her thick eyelashes. She blinked them away by lowering her lashes for a few seconds, and then she kissed me.
It was the kind of kiss that you can feel in your toes.
My knees weakened, as every breath was stolen from me.
All that remained in my body was the pure adrenaline coursing through my veins.
With the rain slanting sideways on our faces, and lightning crashing over the lake, our pounding hearts sealed themselves to each other.
I blink out of my memory, but before it fades, I use it as ammunition and fire off, “Do you remember the last time that lady yelled at us. She was worried we’d get struck by lightning, and told us to go inside, but we couldn’t stop dancing.”
Koren’s expression shifts into something soft, something real. I’d struck something deep.
“I don’t understand what happened.” Her words fade, as her head slowly shakes back and forth.
I take a few steps toward her. She doesn’t back away.
At the bottom of the porch steps, I stop.
Maybe I’m a sucker for punishment. Seeing her out here under the moonlight brings back so many memories, bleeding into the present.
She hasn’t screamed for me to get out of her yard, which tells me how she’s feeling.
I know her.
“If you’d wanted me,” she says, voice firm, “you would have fought for me.”
There’s that statement again. She knows why. She is the one who left.
Rolling my lips in, I hold back a scream that wants to list every time I dialed her number and never heard her voice. Each missed call left a stain on my heart I’ve yet to erase. I’ve always fought for her. How dare she even say otherwise? She’s the one who got what she wanted.
Another memory slams into me, and I relive it.
We were on the dock, watching the sun go down until it was just us and the stars, not much different than tonight. She swung her legs over the edge, teasing her toes with the waves. I sat beside her, my hand resting on her leg, half amazed she let me do that.
“I’m rethinking my internship,” she said, head down, facing the water.
It came out of nowhere, and I was instantly confused. “That’s all you’ve talked about for weeks.”
Her eyes stayed on the dark water. “It’s different now. I actually have a real shot at going. Before, it was just a dream. What if I get in, and I have to leave you?”
“You don’t have to be afraid of leaving me. I’m not going anywhere.”
She looked up, searching my face. “Why don’t you ask me to stay?”
My throat tightened. “I thought about it, but it’s your dream.”
“Is that all?” she whispered, turning away again.
I cupped her cheek, turning her face back to me.
“I’m not going to be the guy who asks you to give up on your dreams,” I said, voice hoarse.
I wasn’t quite sure where she was going with this, but I knew she’d been anxious about something all night.
“I want to be the guy who stands with you, cheering you on as you chase those dreams.”
“What if you’re one of my dreams?”
That was all it took.
My lips crashed into hers, and I kissed her like she was already my wife. When we pulled apart, I held on to her. “I love you,” I said. But in that moment, I knew it was more than love. Our souls were fused. I’d spend forever loving her.
Her voice now snaps me from the memory. “Why do you keep doing that?” I focus on her. Her eyes are narrow, and she’s got one hand on her hip.
“Doing what?”
“Staring off into space like you’re dissociating right in front of me. Are you drunk?”
“No.” I chuckle. She has no idea how insane this is making me. It’s like the night air is some kind of crazy truth serum, and I’m incapable of lying. “I keep having all these flashbacks of us. It’s crazy to see you again.”
“Well, you saw me.” She shifts her weight, pivoting toward her house. Her voice drops into sarcasm as she calls over her shoulder, “I just remembered I need to go walk my pet fish.”
I snort because she’s still the same Koren. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, and that’s her way of telling me to get lost. It doesn’t upset me; it only makes me shake my head and smirk. Her hand finds the door handle, and she’s about to stride inside.
I say what I’ve wanted to say for three hundred and seventy-six days: “I still love you.”
She freezes just as I knew she would. She’s probably convincing herself that she heard an owl or a frog croaking out weird noises. Just to assure her, I say it again, more forcefully. “I love you, Koren.”
I climb the old creaking wood steps, slow and deliberate, one step at a time. Moonlight fires back from her eyes. I slide in beside her, making my intentions clear.
Her lips part.
I pause, waiting for her to scream. She doesn’t. Our lips crash together—not tender, not cautious. It’s days of anger and heartbreak condensed into one kiss. Her hands find the back of my neck. My knees shake when she lets me wrap my arms around her waist again. Like last summer.
Only different from last summer.
Now we understand what we lost.
When we break apart, breathless, her forehead presses to mine. I lose all my chill and plead, “Tell me this still means something.”
Her hand slides down my neck, settling on my chest. I grab it, press it to my heart, and say it again because I need to hear it back: “I love you.”
She exhales, pulling her hand away like I’d wounded it. “I can’t do this again. I can’t fall for you and lose you again. Sorry, this is a mistake.”
I flinch with an immediate rebuttal. “It won’t happen like that.”
It is too late. She’s already slipped from my arms and storming into the house. I fight the urge to call after her, to fight for her like she asked. My gaze flies to my nosey neighbor’s window. Her house is dark. Maybe I should be more polite, but my heart is hammering in my chest.
I fly forward, pound on her door, and scream, “Koren, you have to come back! We can’t leave it like this. We have to talk.” I pound as hard as I can.
An upstairs light switches on, and her mom opens a window. “Elijah, knock it off. Bella is sleeping.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Roberts.” I swallow, pride burning on the way down.
I step back, knowing this one time—for the sake of her family—I’ll be quiet.
After all, it’s the eve of Kaci’s wedding, and I don’t want to ruin it.
As I walk away, I brush my fingers over my lips, still tingling from her lips on mine.
Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I’m quitting.
She asked me to fight. She’d better be prepared.
If anything, tonight reminded me of everything I lost. I won’t stop until she’s mine again.