Chapter 47 #2
But how can I do that now? She’d been right to leave then.
It was her way of saving us, and she ended up saving herself.
Finding herself. Doing all the incredible things she wanted.
I can’t make her stay now. I can’t make her choose me or us.
Not over herself. Not over what she wants.
I can’t ask her to accept a half-life, hoping that Olly and I can make up the difference.
I can’t ask her to give up her adventurous, comfortable world for an unfair one.
And she refuses to ask me to settle for a half-life with her, either. So, I can’t argue.
I can only… my head falls against her shoulder—cry.
“I’d go with you, if I could,” I sob into her. “Follow you anywhere.”
“I know.” She scoots toward me on the blanket, wrapping her hands around my neck to tug me closer. “I thought I could stay. I wanted to. But outside of you and me… and us and Olly… I don’t belong, like I’m trying to fit into a life that’s not mine. Yours. Dad’s. Even Ivy’s.”
“I know. It’s okay. If it doesn’t feel like home, then it isn’t,” I say, running my hands over her wet cheeks, and hating how hurt she is.
Hating how hard this is for her—the pressure of deciding, feeling torn between us and the life she knows, and shouldering the aftermath of her choice.
Even that’s unfair to her. “I’m sorry. I wanted to be that guy, helping you through this, but all I’ve done is make this harder for you. ”
“No. You are that guy for me. Always,” she says, her fingers running through my beard as she smiles. “This summer has been the best of my life, and I’ll carry it with me wherever I go. I don’t regret anything, not one second.”
A smile breaks through my sadness. “Me, neither.”
Her lips meet mine in a desperate plea. The sweetness of the alcohol mixes with salty tears, and my tongue plunges into her mouth, needing more. In a breath, we’re intertwined, on our knees, bodies pressed, hands everywhere, but lips together. Each kiss full-on, feeling like the last.
She tugs on the button of my jeans and slips her hand inside, stroking me.
Her firm, confident grip reminds me of the first time she touched me, and how I came over her delicate hand.
And then, how she came against mine. I take all those perfect memories—the ones of just her and me—and seal them between us now, in our wild affection.
Our first kiss, and every first between us.
First love and last. I leave her lips only long enough to pull her shirt over her head.
My hands dig into her shorts, squeezing her ass and pressing her closer.
“Henry,” she whispers against my lips as she pushes my jeans down my hips. Her lips part like she wants to say more, but she can’t find the words.
“Shhh, everything’s okay. I’m here. We’re together.”
The words force more tears that mingle with hers when I kiss her again.
I unhook her bra, and she frees me of my shirt.
Sunlight beams in from the stained glass, specking her beautiful skin in purple, blue, and pink bands.
My lips slide down her neck, across her collarbone, teasing and tasting her.
I lay her gently on the blanket, careful of the hard surface underneath, and devour her with my mouth—the curves of her breasts, the valley between them, her tight stomach, and her sensitive belly button ring.
She whispers my name again, and I know I’ll hear her in my dreams.
I rid her of the rest of her clothes, and take in her gorgeous body under the streams of light. She smiles up at me, and a tear slips from her eye. I kiss it away before letting my tongue travel the length of her.
Lower and lower still, until I wrap her legs around my shoulders and take her—desperate to have her in my mouth, all tongue, lips, and fingers, until I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
My motions are wild, frantic. I’m lost in her.
Devouring her. More hysteria than concentration.
It’s almost a surprise when her hand rakes through my hair, and she comes wildly, screaming my name.
For a strange second, I think of her next lover, hearing my name instead of theirs. Fuck him. Fuck them all. She’ll always be mine.
Tears fall with the thought.
Her hand moves to my cock, lining me up to her entrance, but I pause, hovering over her, motionless, stunned at how tragically beautiful she looks beneath me.
Her hands cup my ass, pulling me in, nudging me inside.
And when my will finally breaks, I cry out, “Venus,” as I slam into her.
I grind into her, locking her to me to ease the friction.
It feels good—she always feels good—but I’m desperate to be deeper, to have her closer.
I flip us over, position her in my lap, and bring her close to my chest. She takes what she needs, understanding that I want more connection.
She watches me watch her. Softly kissing her perfect lips.
Sharing the taste of her on my tongue. Catching the scent of campfire still in her hair, mixing with the gentle rose of her skin—burned roses—and still, I capture everything about this moment, sealing it into my memory.
My fingers drift up and down her back as she rides me.
Our connection is so strong and all-consuming—heads touching, chests locked, arms and fingers intertwined, and her thighs bringing me in—that we aren’t two people.
We’re one, about to be split apart again.
My soulmate wants me. I want her. But we can’t be together. The fucking unfairness nearly ruins this. But her hands drift across my beard, and she says, “Come back to me, Henry.”
With a relentless kiss, I do.
She sweeps my tears away as I kiss hers, and I soak in her love and comfort. I try holding back, savoring this and the familiar comfort between us, but it feels too damn good. I come, bringing her with me, until our hot arousal pools between us and we curl into each other.
Ecstasy soon gives way to sobs, and we’re crying into each other’s shoulders again.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, a tremor in her voice.
“Don’t be,” I say, running a hand over her head to hold her closer. “It wouldn’t be us without big feelings.”
Through a ragged breath, she chuckles. “And they used to say I was emotionless.”
“I remember. They never knew you.”
“No. They didn’t realize… I saved all my feelings for you.” She sighs against me, fingers trailing over my back. “I’ll never love like this again.”
My chest tightens, and that loneliness, sharp and bitter, resurges in me. “What’s your rule about using absolutes?”
She pulls away to see me better. Her brow furrows in anguish. “I won’t, Henry.”
“I won’t either,” I say in a breath, “not like this. You’re the heart of me, Venus.”
“And you’re mine.” She latches on to me again. “I’m sorry. I hate hurting you again.”
“Even a day with you is worth a lifetime of hurt. I’ll be okay. I promise,” I assure her, desperate to take away her pain. “You’ll be okay, too. We won’t have this, but…but love will find you.”
She moves away from me, pulling the end of the blanket over herself as I speak. I tug on my underwear and shirt.
“When the pain softens, and you’re resigned to a life alone,” I go on, pulling on my jeans. “It’ll sneak up on you gently so as not to scare you. He’ll be unattached like you, free to follow you anywhere, dazzled by your brain and body without needing much else. He’ll be easy.”
I stand, reaching out to her. She takes my hand, and I lift her from her blanket. I use the blanket’s corner to clean off her inner thigh, wiping me away.
Then, I dress her, bending down to put on her panties as I talk, and wretched emotions keep coursing through me.
“You’ll give in, little by little, sharing pieces of you, only just enough,” I say, hooking her bra.
“Not right away, but eventually, you’ll decide—this is love.
A watered-down and murky version, but love enough, anyway.
Companionable. Practical. Pleasant. And you’ll relax into him the way you can’t with me.
I know you, and he only knows what you want him to see.
That’ll make him feel safe. But how safe is he, really?
I’ll still be the one you think about every night, the one you want in a storm…
. You’ll still be the one I think about. ”
Her shirt falls over her head, and I tug it across her chest. Her glassy, green eyes land on mine, pained.
“Henry, please…”
I shrug, trying to knock the hurt from my shoulders.
“It’s true. You know it. I know it—I lived it once already.
But know this, Venus. No matter where you are, how far you are, who you’re with, or how long it’s been—I’ll love you still.
And I’ll always be here, hoping you’ll climb into my window.
Hoping you need me. Hoping that… you finally feel safe enough to come home. ”
My hand goes to my chest and rests over Frank the Frog, a last effort to assure her that everything’s okay.
Even though it isn’t.
I clear my throat to keep it from closing and take a pull on my inhaler. “I have to get back to Olly.”
She nods, and another tear slips. I don’t want to leave her like this. But I can’t handle any more, either.
“Promise me…” I thumb new tears away, hating that I can’t pull myself together. “Promise you won’t leave without saying goodbye. Not this time. Please.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
With a kiss to seal her words between us, I head toward the door.
But I hesitate before exiting. I twist to see her, standing there in her t-shirt and panties, tears specking her cheeks and colors streaming all around her. She’s so fucking sad and beautiful that it feels like death to leave her.
“Venus, thanks for what you did for Olly today,” I say, clearing my throat and finding strength from somewhere. “You were exactly what he needed. What I needed, too.”
A weak half-smile appears. “Tell Olly he’s brave.”
The door thwacks shut behind me.
Rushing away from the greenhouse feels like half my body is tearing away from me, inch by painful inch.
Hurt leeches through my pores with the sweat now emanating in the summer heat and spills in the tears that I can’t seem to stop.
In the middle of the tall soldiers, I rest against a tree, catching my breath and pulling myself together as best as I can for Olly’s sake.
I can’t believe I’ve lost her.
Spilling into Mom’s backyard, the grief hits me again—that’s the last time I’ll take that path. I take a breath, steeling myself behind the Fortress of Strength, like I did after Jay died.
Olly sits under a blanket between Mom and Fred on the couch. He looks heart-wrenchingly pathetic with his gauzed head, last year’s glasses, his thick green cast, and an exhausted twinge under his huge, round eyes.
“Olly, let’s go home,” I say, sounding curt but not meaning to.
He nods weakly and shoves the blanket away.
“Everything alright, Henry?” Fred asks, his bushy brow pinched with concern.
I glance at Mom, and anger resurfaces. “No, but Mom should be happy.”
“Henry, I’m sorry,” she whines. “What can I—”
“Nothing,” I snap, still reeling over her words to Venus—today and that night. But I don’t have the energy to deal with Mom now. “Olly, don’t bother with your shoes.”
I reach down, lifting him with one arm until he’s latched to my side. His head falls to my shoulder. I grab his shoes and tote him to the Jeep.
Fred follows, edging around me to open Olly’s door. I tuck my tired, hurt son into his booster seat and click the harness into place. I tussle his hair. “Venus said to tell you you’re brave.”
“Venus said that?” His eyes widen, like she’s permitted him to be impressed with himself.
“Yep. Ready for home?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, squeezing Mango in his hand. “Is Venus coming too?”
The question makes my heart seize in my chest. I can’t answer.
Instead, I shut the door and turn toward Fred. “Thanks.”
“Hey, Henry, um, it’ll be alright.”
“No, it won’t, but we’ll get by. Like always.” I nearly tear up at the word.
Then, we go home.