Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Marley
I tossed and turned before my eyes finally opened to the pale morning light filtering through the curtains.
I instantly turned my head and found Kelechi beside me, still lost in sleep. Her dark braids spilled across my arm and those soft snores filled the quiet space between us. My lips curved into a smile before I could stop them.
When did that happen?
I shifted carefully, propping myself up on one elbow to look at her properly.
My eyes traced a familiar path, from her closed lids with their long black lashes resting against her cheeks, down to her pointed nose, settling on those full lips set in a slight pout.
Not because she was upset—I’d learned she did that when she was deeply asleep.
The same way she chewed her fingernails aggressively when she was thinking too hard about something, worrying about it until I had to kiss it all away or distract her with something else.
I knew these things about her now. Small, intimate details I’d collected without meaning to, filed away somewhere deep in my head.
My gaze drifted lower, following the curve of her neck to her naked body sprawled across my sheets.
Those perky breasts that fit perfectly in my palms, the stretch marks that lined her stomach and hips like silver-toned marks—lines I’d traced with my tongue just hours ago.
The dark hair at the apex of her thighs, I bet they were still damp from our lovemaking.
Heat pooled low in my belly at the memory.
Last night, she’d been the one to initiate things the moment we’d climbed into bed.
She had pushed me back against the pillows with a confidence that took my breath away, one that had emerged a day after our heated argument.
Her hands had been demanding, her mouth hungry.
Our clothes had ended up scattered across the floor in our urgency, my shorts by the door, her dress draped over the chair, our underwear somewhere lost in the tangle of bedsheets.
She was becoming bolder. The shy girl who blushed at every touch had transformed into this woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to take it. And God, I loved that for her.
For us.
The word hit me like I had just been drenched in cold water.
Us.
When had I started thinking in terms of us? When had Kelechi stopped being someone I was sleeping with and started being… what? My girlfriend? My partner?
Mine?
My heart began to race, but not in the good way this time. Not in the way it did when she touched me or said my name in that breathy voice when I was inside her. This was different—this was panic clawing its way up my throat.
What were we doing? What was I doing?
I’d been with her for almost three months now, three months. That was longer than any casual thing I’d ever had, longer than I’d ever let anything go before the inevitable boredom set in, before I started looking for exits and excuses.
But I wasn’t bored, and that was the problem.
I was planning, catching myself thinking about spring break and wondering if she would want to visit Berlin with me.
I was even picturing next semester, her moving some of her things into my apartment, maybe.
All of her books on my shelves, her laugh filling my space every day instead of just some days.
Scheisse.
When had I become this person? The person who wanted someone to stay instead of wanting them to leave before it got complicated?
It was already complicated. It had been complicated from the moment she’d looked at me with those big, trusting eyes and asked me to teach her, to show her, to give her everything she’d never had.
And I’d given it to her. And in the process, I’d given her pieces of myself I didn’t even know existed. Let her past the walls I had spent years building, showed her the soft parts I usually kept hidden away from the world.
I’m in too deep.
The realisation settled over me like a weight. I was drowning in this girl, and I didn’t know how to swim back to shore. The worst thing was that I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep sinking, keep falling, keep losing myself in her until there was nothing left of the woman I used to be.
The woman who didn’t need anyone. The woman who was fine alone, who knew better than to catch feelings for someone who had a whole other life waiting for her across the ocean.
A straight woman. Someone who had a soon-to-be fiancé.
My stomach lurched. How had I let myself forget that? She wasn’t mine, not really. What we had together was on borrowed time, a beautiful lie we were both telling ourselves. And one day, maybe soon, it’d all have to end.
Bile rose in my throat.
I needed to get out of this bed before I did something stupid, before I woke her up and told her things I had no right to say. Things like stay and choose me, and I think I’m falling in love with you.
Think?
I carefully reached for the blanket that had slipped down to her waist during the night and pulled it up to her neck. She immediately snuggled deeper into it, releasing my arm in the process as she burrowed into the warmth. Even in sleep, she was beautiful. Even in sleep, she was breaking my heart.
I took one last look at her, this woman who’d somehow become my everything in just a few months, and climbed out of bed.
My Dickies shorts and old T-shirt were crumpled on the floor where I had kicked them off last night.
Grabbing them, I dressed quickly, my hands shaking slightly as I pulled the fabric over my head.
I opened the bedroom door as quietly as possible and slipped out, closing it behind me with a soft click.
The apartment felt too empty without her awake in it. Too quiet. Too much like the life I used to have before she walked into it and turned my entire world upside down.
I needed coffee and maybe some quiet to think clearly, to remind myself why I didn’t do this, why I didn’t let people in, didn’t plan futures, and didn’t fall in love.
But as I walked down the hallway toward the kitchen, one thought followed me like a shadow.
It’s too late.
You’re already gone.