Corbin
Chapter Fourteen
The Valley, Canada
I gave up the fight of trying to sleep long before the sun rose.
Between the voracious hunger to explore every inch of Shelby and the impending worry about leaving, I’d barely caught a wink.
We’d spent the days inseparable, bound by invisible threads ensuring we were never more than a metre apart and it was as great as it was excruciating, knowing the end was near.
I was addicted to her in a way I’d never been addicted to anything in my life.
Her smell, her touch, her laugh and that body, but mostly, how she could make me smile so easily.
She knew me in a way no one else ever could and that was as comforting as it was depressing when our worlds were so far apart.
We spent Christmas with Blake before he left to visit friends and we were again alone, falling into bed as soon as the front door clicked closed.
And now, with nothing else to do but wait for the car which would be taking me to the airport, everything I’d been avoiding was suddenly smacking me in the face.
I’d tried to initiate discussions around the possibility of more.
The possibility of something I never thought I’d want with anyone, let alone my friend who lived on the opposite side of the world.
Long distance was terrifying because it came with a suitcase of unknown and that scared the shit out of me.
But I would take anything I could get with her because this was more than a moment .
This was emotion and feelings and something else I wouldn't again dare label.
Obviously, the discussion never happened.
I choked anytime I even thought about mentioning it, and the one time I’d come close, Shelbs demonstrated she was a conversational wizard, skilled in the art of avoidance.
Only now, the regret was starting to feel very heavy and very real.
I was a gutless prick too afraid to express her how I felt yet too afraid to leave without telling her.
“I wish you could have stayed until New Years Eve,” Shelby breathed into my chest, her arms around my waist. I inhaled the juniper scent of her shampoo, holding her as if she were my life raft and mumbled my agreement.
Not only did I have to leave, but I had to get on a fucking airplane without her and those supremely distracting hands exploring my body and testing my self-control.
“You could come with me,” I tried.
“I wish for that too,” she said with a sigh.
“What if I Evermore you?” I asked, knowing it wouldn’t matter. Her family needs always stronger than her own wants.
“Even then…” she replied.
“Even then what?” I pushed, suddenly desperate.
She tried to retreat but I refused to release her. I didn’t want to let go. Not yet.
“Even then, no,” she breathed. “I need to stay here, Corbin. That’s my job, my duty. I promised Mum I would make sure he was okay. And I’m happy here,” she gestured towards the space around us half-heartedly.
“Is that what you want for yourself?” I was genuinely curious. Because her words didn’t align with everything I thought I knew about her .
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” the emotions were thick, her voice taut with frustration as she finally stepped free from my embrace. I watched as she ran her hands through her hair, avoiding looking at me. “He needs me here,” she said as if that closed all discussions.
Blake was twenty-two and fully capable of looking after himself. He’d told her as much several times, but there was a stubbornness to her jaw whenever they’d had the conversation which made it clear she wasn’t budging.
“Shel,” I started delicately. “Your life has been on pause for too long. You lived Groundhog Day with your mum, and I get it,” I threw my hands up to pause her incoming verbal barrage I knew she would throw if I didn’t explain further.
“And I would have too.” She was looking at me now, uncertainty and a slice of pain in her narrowed gaze.
“But you’re doing it again unnecessarily.
When are you going to put yourself first? ”
She studied me, shaking her head ever so subtly I wasn’t even sure if she knew she was doing it, before she sighed, and I watched as a mask slipped into place. Any vulnerability now gone.
This was caretaker Shelby. The one who would bury her own desires because she felt obligated.
“He’s all I have,” she gritted, her shoulders pressed back and it was my turn to freeze.
I knew this was self-preservation on her end. What she needed to do to make this easier for her, but that stung.
He was all she had.
The rejection, while expected, burnt and I swallowed the fight brewing in my stomach. Swallowed the bitterness and jealousy of wishing she cared enough for me and us to fight that hard.
Instead, it was clear that whatever this was - it was over.
Over before it even had time to begin .
A protest rumbled in my chest as I invaded her face and pulled her into my arms again.
I didn’t want to get into an argument. To do anything to upset her further and I didn’t want to leave after a fight which soured everything we’d shared.
After a second, her arms wrapped around me, and she sighed audibly into my chest.
“In another life.” She whispered and I swallowed the emotions threatening to spill at the sadness in her voice.
“What’s your colour?” I asked, instead of falling to my knees and telling her I could quit my job and stay here forever if it meant she was mine.
And not just on a sabbatical but every single day.
Over toast and cereal, while doing the groceries and getting petrol.
When she was hungry and couldn’t be bothered to cook or when she needed someone to fulfil her touch battery.
I would do it all, one thousand times over.
“Blue.” Her muffled voice, heavy with sadness, made me smile a little.
Even when she was grumpy or sad, she still made me ache for her. It was comforting to know that despite her adamance that she had to stay for a brother who’d made it clear he didn’t need her as much as she thought, she felt the heartache too.
“Yours?”
“Blue, too,” I admitted with a kiss to the top of her head. “Once I get the new office up and running, you could come over to visit? We could explore New York together just for a little while?”
“Sounds good,” she leant back to look at me and I brushed the hair from her face. “I’m going to miss you.” She breathed, the closest she’d come to admitting her feelings.
I nodded, taking in every single inch of her face and securing it to my memories.
The beautiful brown of her eyes which matched the highlights in her hair.
Those faint lines at the corners of her eyes, a map of every moment she'd laughed, loved, and lived fully, were perfectly on display.
The slight peak of her top lip and that neck which smelt like my favourite place.
I lifted her from the ground and buried my face there, needing to inhale her as deeply as possible before I left.
“Me too.” I admitted with successive kisses against her skin.
Having her was almost more painful than wondering.
At least when I’d allowed myself to wonder, there was always the possibility we wouldn’t be compatible.
That it would be awkward and something we would agree never to try because the attraction wasn’t there.
Only this was anything but that.
Too much had changed since we said hello with a wave and an unsure smile. Within three months, we’d blurred into one, the friendship had morphed into more and in a few minutes – nothing. The bandage was about to be ripped off with not a care plan in sight.
As soon as I placed her back on the floor she pounced, her mouth on mine, her hands around my neck and I easily fell into the familiar dance.
Around her I was insatiable and when she reached for my belt, the only thing stopping me from taking her on the floor right now was the sound of a car horn, indicating it was time for me to leave.
I wanted to ignore it, my need for her was more important than anything else, including a damn flight, but we both knew this was inevitable.
Eventually I would have to say goodbye and return to my life because we’d let the possibility of more pass us by.
“Guess I better go,” I said, running a hand over my hair. She walked to the front door and signalled to the driver I would be a minute.
“Thank you for spending your leave with me,” she smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, and I ached to alleviate her pain. If she begged me to stay, I would have, that, I was sure.
But she wouldn’t, because it meant admitting things I’m not sure either of us were ready for.
She prided herself on her stoicism. The ability to be the one who cared for those around her, always strong, always brave.
That fucking mask she wore was eating at me and I wanted to rip it free and beg her to tell me what she was really thinking. What she was really feeling.
“Shelby,” I started.
“Don’t!” She said, her head shaking quickly, her eyes begging me not to push as she wiped a stray tear. “Please don’t,” she pleaded, this time with finality.
“Yep,” I nodded, the frustration evident in my tone. She’d avoided the conversation anytime I tried, and it was nearly comical at how our roles had reversed. Just a few months ago I was the quiet one and she spoke her truths like water through a sieve. Easily, freely, uncontrollably.
Only now, I was the one wanting to lay my cards on the table, and she refused to play. Telling me enough about how one-sided this was.
“Well, thanks for being my tour guide.” She bit her lower lip and nodded. A subtle acknowledgment of my words, but I could tell my deliberate understatement of what this was stung.
“Sorry we didn’t get to see more,” she said with a small smile.
Neither of us were going to admit how we felt, the weight of unspoken love and loss hanging heavier than the goodbye.