like real people do

vii

They say that time heals wounds, yet he's not sure if the ache in his chest will ever dull out.

It was an exaggeration, but it was exactly how he felt a week after the talk with Leanna. He had an idea of what happened, had inferred much from the little she gave him because how couldn't he when she was all that ran through his mind?

Apparently, he was wrong in a lot of things. And he still could not decipher if this was the better alternative; if her having feelings for him was better than a rejection. Both were meant to hurt, but they hurt in different ways. Rejection was a plain no. Rejection meant there was nothing to fight for.

Rejection meant him hurting, but at least then, it was just him and not her. And the thought of her hurting doubled that of what he was feeling.

He had feelings for her, deep feelings that he didn't know dug that far until she grabbed his nape, and he felt her lips clash against his. And with every taste of her tongue, swiping through his bottom lip, testing, tasting, exploring, kissing him like she'd wanted to search for his soul, she peeled layer after layer until all his defenses were torn down. Never, not in the last five years, did he think he'd feel so much passion overflowing. He was resigned to the thought of being a bachelor, not necessarily a celibate, unfeeling one, but to transcend something casual seemed all but impossible.

Yet here he was.

Here he was sitting in bed, nursing a broken heart that would not be in this much pain if she was just some girl. And he wondered why despite his own pain, he still thought of her first. He hoped that it was only him lying awake in bed at night, missing her, longing for her. He wouldn't wish an aching heart on anyone, most especially her, not after all she's been through.

By then, the rumors of them dating were out of the local gossip mill, and the rest of town was off to the next news cycle... but he was stuck. He couldn't move and turn that stone over.

The sulking wasn't doing him any good. It wasn't that he stopped showing up for work or was a shell of a human being, but he wasn't living, either. He stayed away from her as much as he could, respecting her decision, acquiescing to her request that he leave her be.

He didn't want to, but sometimes our wants are different from our needs and responsibilities. He decided to get off the bed, knowing his thoughts would keep him awake till the wee hours of the morning. Better use of that energy is busying himself with paperwork.

For once, he was glad that he brought home his students' papers and he'd have something to distract him tonight.

So there he was, neck-deep in paperwork when the familiar tone of a FaceTime call assaulted his ears. The sound blared against the quiet room (he wasn't a fan of music in the background while he was reading), startling him. He took the pesky thing, bringing it up so he could see who was calling.

Finally, something-rather, someone, that would make him smile.

He was greeted by his niece when he accepted the call. She was about a year or two younger than Valerie and just as adorable. It was unfair to his niece, but he couldn't help that the little girl (whose mother he missed dearly) ran through his mind, too.

"Hello there little miss, how are you?" he cooed.

She beamed at him, showing her right hand that had a stamp with a star. Displayed below the drawing was the word 'excellent.'

Huh, he didn't know they still did that nowadays. "I got a star in daycawe!"

"Very good, little miss!" He flattered her, genuinely smiling. It was the first in quite a few weeks since he's smiled like this. "Did you call, or did mommy call?"