He pulls his head back and looks down. His boxer briefs are gone and we both watch as he enters me slowly, my mouth opening wide in a silent gasp. I wrap my legs around his waist, beckoning him farther inside.
He takes his time, sinking in and out of me with the ease of a boat bobbing on a calm sea. That’s what I am right now. I am a calm sea because the storm hasn’t arrived yet. I know everything will be different when Chris leaves, but right now I want to enjoy this small sliver of peace.
He kisses the tears as they slide down my temples. I tighten my arms around his shoulders and crush my lips against his as he comes inside me.
He’s kissing me and I can feel his new lip piercing rubbing against my upper lip.
I push him hard in the chest and he falls back into his seat. “What are you doing?” I shriek.
Chris looks confused and I feel horrible. “Claire, I miss us. I still think about you every day.”
“Don’t do this.”
“And you know what I think about? I think about how I can have any girl I want, except for you. How fucked up is that? Why are you doing this to me?”
“Everything’s always about you. You left to pursue your dreams and, yes, I encouraged you to do it—heck, I wanted you to do it and I’m proud of you—but you never stopped to consider what you were leaving behind. You never thought of what it would do to me to lose my best friend and the one person who made me feel safe. You didn’t take me into your home five years ago, Chris; you were my home. When I lost you, I lost everything.”
He looks at me and I can feel the regret pulsing in waves off both of us, like two magnets repelling each other. “I’m going to get you back if it kills me.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat because I know this isn’t an empty promise. Chris gets what he wants. Always.
“Can you ask the driver to take me to 500 Fayetteville.”
The car pulls up in front of the hotel entrance a few minutes later and the months of regret and agony we’ve both suffered is heavy between us. I wish I could reach across and tell him we’re going to be together forever, like I once believed, but so much has changed.
With every choice you risk the life you would have had. With every decision you lose it.
I think of this quote every time I get the urge to tell anyone my secret. It’s what I thought of when I decided not to tell Chris about the baby. Now it’s time to decide again.
“It’s over, Chris. And I’m sorry. I’ve never been more sorry in my life than I am for what I did to you. I will never stop being sorry. I will never lose this regret, but I do think I made the right decision. No matter how much it hurts. No matter how much it kills me to even admit that. I did what was right for both of us because now you have your dream career and I have someone who I love more than I thought I could ever love someone after you left. And, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to him.” I kiss him on the cheek and he leans into me wanting more. “I will love you forever and ever, but I can’t be with you. Goodbye, Chris.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Relentless Heartache
THE TRIP IN THE ELEVATOR up to the sixth floor is excruciatingly slow and fast. I hope Adam is here. When I check my phone, I have eight texts and two voicemails from Senia, but nothing from Adam. I text Senia to let her know I’m okay and I’ll call her later. I don’t have the energy or the time to talk to her about this right now. I need to find Adam.
I knock on the door for room 608. Adam has the room key. He offered me the second cardkey, but I left it on the nightstand in the room thinking I wouldn’t need it. If he doesn’t answer, I’ll just sit here and meditate for a while then call Senia to pick me up.
The door opens and Adam doesn’t look at me as he steps back for me to come inside. He doesn’t leave me much room and my chest brushes against his arm as I slither past him. He closes the door and I take a few steps before I turn around. When he finally looks me in the eye, he doesn’t speak. He’s waiting for my explanation, which, by the looks of it, probably won’t satisfy him.
“There are so many things I’ve done in my life that I regret, but right now there are two things that top that list. Number two is not telling you sooner. Number one is telling the hospital staff that I didn’t want to know the sex of the baby.”
I sink down onto the edge of the bed and force myself to remember that day. “Every time I get a fluttering in my stomach, I think of all the times my baby moved inside me. Every time I see a baby in public, I wonder.” The mattress creaks as he sits next to me and the uneven distribution of our weight pulls me closer to him. “I don’t know if you can understand what it’s like to dream about a child with no face. To feel like a part of your heart will always exist just out of your reach.”