23. Love is a Death Sentence
TWENTY-THREE
LOVE IS A DEATH SENTENCE
? Please - Noah Kahan
NOAH
Sometime in the night, I wake with Clio in my arms and her soft breaths teasing my bare skin. We must’ve fallen asleep shortly after her third orgasm.
Closing my eyes, I inhale against the back of her head, getting a hit of that now-familiar orange blossom scent.
I should leave, but I can’t seem to make myself let go.
I want to lump her in with every other situationship and one-night stand I’ve had and pretend like I don’t feel anything outside of overwhelming sexual attraction, but that’s becoming impossible.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I wasn’t supposed to catch feelings, but like a runaway train, I’m helpless to stop it. There’s just something about her I can’t resist.
I’m addicted.
Maybe I’m not so different from my brother after all.
I feel better now that she knows about my sexuality. She might not be ready to try anything new, but I’m more than happy to take things at her pace. Fucking her is a goddamn privilege I never thought I’d get to experience.
I press my lips to her bare shoulder, my mind replaying every gasp and moan like my personal soundtrack.
My cock begins to stir. I shift away so I don’t wake her, and that’s when I see more of those faint white scars that she has on her belly, only they’re longer and more pronounced across her back. They’re old, that much is clear.
I trace one of the more prominent lines.
“My god,” I whisper into the darkness. “Who did this to you?”
“My stepdad.” Her voice is so quiet, I could easily convince myself I imagined the words, but there’s no mistaking those anguished green eyes as she rolls to face me. “It was a long time ago. Before I ran away from home.”
I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection sooner. Clio is Callie’s sister. It makes sense that she would have scars to match. Two years ago, I listened to Callie’s story as I tattooed a bluebird on her sternum. It was harrowing then, and now…
Now I want to burn the world down for them.
“Why did you run away?”
“Rodney—that’s my stepdad—he found out I was pregnant, and that was the last straw. If I stayed, he would’ve killed us.”
“What about Lexi’s dad? Did he know?”
“He’d already moved on by then, and he made it pretty clear he didn’t want anything to do with us, so I made the decision to raise her on my own.”
“That’s a helluva choice to make at that age.”
She nods. “But I’d do it all over again to have Lexi.”
“So, the nightmares…”
“Rodney. Mostly. Sometimes it’s my mom or the day we lost Aunt Penny. But it’s mostly him.”
“I’m sorry.” The words hold little meaning, but I don’t have anything else to offer her.
I wish I had her strength. You’d never guess how much she’s endured by looking at her.
She walks through life like a beacon of joy, but underneath it all is a person who’s known great pain and persevered.
I’ve done the opposite. I wear my damage like a shield, impenetrable if not for the woman in my arms.
“It’s all in the past.” She nuzzles closer, running her finger down the wing of the luna moth that spans across my entire chest. “What does this one mean?”
I could lie and tell her the tattoo is meaningless, but honesty is the least I can offer after everything we’ve shared. “Luna was my mom’s name.”
“Oh.” Her expression shifts from curiosity to sympathy. “It’s a beautiful tribute. Is the shop named after her, too?”
“Yeah.” I run my fingers through her hair and close my eyes. “She would’ve adored you.”
She gives me a hopeful smile, chipping away at what’s left of my defenses. “Really?”
“She was a lot like you. Always smiling and laughing. Never lashed out in anger or had a cruel word to say about anyone, even in the end.” For the first time since I walked away from our old house a few weeks ago, I let my mind wander to happier times.
“She had her flaws, but nothing ever broke her spirit.”
“She sounds wonderful, but you give me way too much credit. I’ve been broken down more times than I can count.”
“But you didn’t let it define you. I… admire that about you.”
“You do?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? You’re amazing, Clio.”
She chews on her bottom lip and stares up at the ceiling. “I’m a lot. I know I’m a lot. Too much, even. Or so I’ve been told.”
I want to strangle every person who made her feel that way. “Give me names, Clio.”
She giggles. “It’s fine. I’m fine. If it weren’t for Aunt Penny, I might’ve let it break me, but she was always there to remind me of my worth. She always said, ‘If you’re too much, let them go find less.’”
She swallows like she just tasted something sour.
I sweep a lock of hair away from her forehead. “You miss her.”
“More than anything in the world. I’d give anything to hear her voice one more time.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Your mom?”
I respond with a solemn nod. “It’s been so long, I don’t even remember the last thing she said to us. It’s so easy to forget things like that. You never think it’s going to be the last time.”
“Until it is.” She coasts her finger over my thigh tattoo next, whispering the words to the Yeats poem in a soothing cadence, almost like a lullaby. If you ignore the sentiment, it could be.
He that made this knows all the cost, for he gave all his heart and lost.
“A warning?” she asks.
“More like a promise.”
“That’s awfully cynical. Love isn’t all bad.”
“Love is a death sentence.”
I can tell she wants to press me on it, but her chest expands on a slow inhale, and she lets the words die on her tongue.
After a prolonged silence, she asks, “If you could live anywhere in the world, would you still choose Willow Valley?”
“I think so. It’s always been home for me. What about you?”
I feel her nod against me. “I love it here. It’s the first place that’s ever really felt like home to me.”
What is it about this woman that makes me want to know more?
“Not even North Carolina?”
“No. Maybe it was at one time, but now that Penny’s gone, I don’t think I can ever go back.
” She traces the tail of my luna moth, and my stomach contracts beneath her touch.
“I’d like to get a little house here someday.
Put down roots. Just something small for me and Lexi.
A place she can come home to on breaks from college or wherever life takes her. ”
“That sounds nice.”
“Mhm. I always wanted to get a dog.” Her voice fades and an exhale whispers against my skin as her eyes drift shut, her palm resting over my heart.
A heavy silence settles around us. I glide one hand up and down her back and rest the other behind my head, staring up at the ceiling as my thoughts trail back to the empty house on Darling Street with the yellow shutters and the handprints in the yard.
Only, it’s not my mom standing in the kitchen window this time.
I shove down those dangerous thoughts and wait for sleep to take me, knowing my future lies elsewhere. This thing between us has an expiration date.