In My Life, I Love You More (The Beatles)

Chapter 11

The night felt long. My mind continuously replayed the argument between me and Paul. He made some very good points and I just can't believe myself. Maybe he did like me at first because of my resemblance to Jane... but maybe his feelings matured into something more.

I know that I really hurt him, and I honestly didn't mean to. I love Paul, I do, but not in the way that he might have thought. But I don't know why I don't see myself with him. It's something about him that makes me think that we would end in disaster. And I know I should have given him some romantic chance, but I couldn't bring myself to doing that. Not because I'm at all against the idea of going out with Paul, but more because I know I can't reciprocate his same feelings, and it would be unfair to him and unfair to myself. He...can do so much better than me, and yet I'm the one he wants; and no one knows how I feel.

I couldn't sleep. I had both men stuck in my head, wanting to scream and just disappear, making all of their problems fade away. If I wasn't around, they'd probably still be the best of friends. That's the thing with having insomniac thoughts, you start wondering about bad things.

The clock beside my nightstand read 3:00 am. I had been sitting and sulking for hours without sleep. My throat suddenly felt dry, so I picked myself up from my mattress, threw my sheets off, and headed towards the kitchen.

As I filled my cup with water, I slid over a window curtain to see what Paul was doing. He wasn't in the range of the window for me to see him. The lights were on but he wasn't in his living room. It took all that I had in me not to go over there and check up on him. But; what he needed was space. That's going to be hard, given our work relationship.

I sipped the water in my cup and groaned, clearing my throat up. Setting it down, the knock from my door had me frozen. I took a couple steps towards my door and stood up on my toes to see through the peephole. No one was to be seen.

I opened the door anyway, to see that maybe the person who knocked was still walking or something. My foot had grazed on what felt like a plastic wrap. I looked down and saw a mound of presents.

"Those were for you."

His voice startled me. I gasped sharply and found none other than John sitting in my porch chair.

"What? How are you here, at three in the morning, might I add?" I walked over to him and knelt over analyzing his leg.

"Richard isn't a sleeper and he offered to drive me here."

"Why did you want to come to me? And who let you out of the hospital, you can't even walk?"

He huffed out a small chuckle, "It's just a slice. Yeah it burns like all hell when I stand up but that's fine as long as I get to see you." He smiled at me, sweetly but sarcastically in the charming way that he does. The way his voice gradually got deeper and softer had my cheeks burning up.

I tried my hardest not to smile like an idiot as he spoke to me. But of course, my emotions did get the best of me and I giggled. "You came at three in the morning just to see me? What if I was fast asleep and you were stuck here until I woke up?" I laughed and finally sat beside him on the floor.

John sighed a smile and slowly brought himself out of the chair and sat down by me. I rested his leg on my lap and grabbed onto his hand. He gripped my hand and rubbed little circles with his thumbs on the back of it.

"I would have waited for you, of course." he scoffed as if it was a known fact. "I'm just glad you came out sooner, I'm nearly freezing." he grinned.

I gasped while nervously laughing, "I'm so sorry, let me help you get inside," He put an arm around me and held my hands. I kicked open my door and rested him on my sofa. He pulled my arm towards him so that I landed on him. I froze and apologized, trying to get back up.