Despite growing up together, Catherine Simmons and Mattis Reed were never close.
Cat was inseparable from Mattis' younger sister, Chloé, while he was busy running around on the football field.
But when Cat's new dream drags her across the country du...
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I don't get any sleep that night.
The second I left the kitchen, I knew I fucked up. Every cell in me wanted to turn back, beg her to listen, and tell her why this could work.
The only problem is I don't have a solution. There's truth to what Cat said. If we tried this thing and it all went to shit, Chloé would never forgive me. And while there's a big part of me that wants to say fuck it, I wonder if I'd ever regret it. Because if I lost Cat and Chloé in one fell swoop, what would be left?
Still, she said I shouldn't give up my relationship with Chloé just for sex.
Is that all she thinks this is?
Is that all she thinks I'm good for?
I lie on my back, staring at my ceiling, replaying the reflection of Cat's face in the window as that one tear slid down her face. It's been ages since I saw her cry, and these were not a kid's tears shed for attention. This was the ache of an adult, mourning what could have been.
It took all my strength not to wipe it away with my thumb, but I don't think I was meant to see it.
If there was any doubt, tonight erased it. Cat's in pain. This thing between us is causing her pain. She's being pulled in too many directions, like some obligation or desire is tugging on each of her appendages, and if I heave a little too much, she might break in half.
And in the end, it's not her own wants or needs that win out. It's this phantom connection between Chloé and me, one she wishes we had so much; she'd give up her happiness for it.
She's too self-sacrificing.
But I'm selfish. I don't care if it were to burn my life to the ground; I would do almost anything to be with Cat. Except hurt her.
So the reason why I will force myself to stay away from her is not because of Chloé or sibling love or long-sighted plans. It's only because I know Cat won't give, and I can't be the thing that hurts her. So I will keep my distance.
Even if it kills me.
I have caused her too much pain already.
I feel sick to my stomach when I recall that one tear, like the salty droplet, was the manifestation of every fuck up on my part.
Fucking hell, approaching her in the kitchen tonight was so dumb of me. I swear to God; sometimes, I wonder if I have the IQ of a misshapen potato.
I give up on sleep, and in the end, I just get up and start packing my things, so I'll be ready for when Cat and I head back to Columbia early tomorrow or later today.
Once my bags are ready, I end up by the window, looking out into the backyard as faint pink paints the sky. I follow the suns ascend up the sky, hoping that everything will feel a bit more manageable in the light of day.
