~*~*~*~
AVERY
Nate: Answer me, Avery.
I don’t answer him. How can I? I’m making a huge mistake, putting myself second when I don’t deserve to be. I’m disrespecting a woman, and that is the wrong thing to do. Everything inside my broken and confused body aches; it has for days now. Nate has crawled into my heart, and the idea that I have to end this with him is killing me. It’s hurting me so badly, ripping my heart into shreds.
I’m sitting on my front patio, Caffy in my lap. I’m aimlessly stroking his belly, just staring out into nothing. My mind won’t switch off and I can’t sleep. I don’t even know what happened with Lena. I don’t know if she’s okay or if she’s hurt—I heard nothing from Nate for more a day. Then he tried to call me. I didn’t answer. He tried to text me. I didn’t answer. I know he’s getting frustrated but I can’t change this. Not even for him.
Nate: I’m coming over.
Shit. I get off my chair and rush inside, hurrying to the front door and locking it. Then I head down to my room and close the door behind me. I’m not ready to face Nate, not ready to watch his face fall to pieces as I end this with him. I don’t know if I can do it when he looks at me the way he does. I flop down onto my bed and curl onto my side, just waiting.
I hear him knock about half an hour later, but I don’t move. He pounds the door over and over, bellowing out my name. I cover my ears, letting tears leak out of my eyes and run down my cheeks. It goes silent a moment later, and I make a loud sobbing sound, knowing he’s probably gone. Then I hear a loud smash. I jerk upright and get to my feet, mouth agape.
He didn’t . . . he didn’t.
I run out the door and charge down the stairs to see him climbing through my front window. “What is wrong with you?” I screech the minute I hit the bottom step.
He straightens, dusting glass shards off his pants. He looks dark and dangerous today, wearing black jeans, a black leather jacket and heavy black boots. His hair is messy and he’s got a pair of sunglasses propped up on top of his head. He crosses his arms and has the nerve to glare at me.
“I’ve been calling, and I’ve been texting. Why aren’t you answering?”
“Seriously?” I snap, crossing my arms.
“Yeah, fuckin’ seriously,” he barks.
“I’m doing the right thing,” I yell, throwing my hands up. “I can’t keep being this . . . this . . . second choice. It’s not fair.”
His face drops and his eyes grow so pained that my heart aches. Those are the eyes I didn’t want to see.
“You think this is easy for me?” he rasps. “You think it’s fuckin’ easy falling in love with you and knowing I can’t have you whenever I want?”
“What?” I gasp, looking up. His words shock me. “Oh Nate, no.”
Now he looks offended. “What?”
“You can’t love me,” I cry. “You can’t . . . you can’t . . . you can’t . . .”
I put my hands on either side of my face, shaking my head from side to side.
“Why can’t I?” he barks. “Why can’t I, Avery? Tell me? Did you honestly think this was just a quick fuck? That I was here simply to get my rocks off? Shit, what kind of man do you think I am?”
“I can’t say no to you,” I scream, charging towards him and shoving his chest, “because I can’t breathe without you. This isn’t meant to be how my first love goes; it isn’t meant to be how it feels. I can’t love you, Nate, because I can never have you.”
He steps forward, cupping my cheeks. “You can’t change how this feels, Dancer.”
“It hurts,” I cry, trembling. “It fucking hurts.”
He pulls me into his chest and presses my cheek to his shirt. I soak that shirt with tears, desperate tears filled with desperate pain. I don’t want to feel like this.
“I know it’s not how it’s meant to feel, but I’m doin’ my best. I’ll try, Dancer. I’ll try to be everything you need.”
“You can’t leave her. You can’t and I know you can’t.”
“Not right now I can’t, because she’ll end up drunk, killing herself the minute I do. I have to get her help, then I have every intention of stepping away.”
“You’re just saying that,” I sob. “I know how this works.”
“You don’t know how it fucking works,” he says, reaching down and lifting my chin. “You don’t know how this feels.”
“I do, Nate,” I croak. “I know, because I feel it too.”