The Ache Between Us

Chapter Sixteen - Rafael

The nights seemed longer than usual, my brain not taking the hint to stop thinking about her, so here I was–on the treadmill inside my home gym running like I was training for a marathon. The speed was ten while the incline was seven, my legs were burning, and my body was thrumming with every step I took.

The gaudy sound of my feet hitting the treadmill was baiting me to push myself over the edge. I could feel the sweat dripping down my back, neck, chest, and face as I focused on my breathing as I tried to remind myself why I was here.

Iris.

I couldn't get her out of my head, and I hated myself for wandering about someone like her. I deserved better than her. Iris wasn't the only girl in the world, yet she was the entire world for me. I saw no one but her. Wanted no one but her. The past ten years without her hit me all at once like a freight train knocking the air right out of my goddamn lungs, as I was reminded how much I cared for her, how much I missed her.

The way she'd lay with me on her bed with her head on my chest, as her fingers lazily traced my face–my brows, my lips, my nose. I could still feel the warmth of her body pressed against mine, still, smell the sweetened scent that was Iris and caramel. Still hear the soft sounds of her breathing as she murmured something to me about some book she read, as she read to me her favorite lines and it would be the highlight of my day listening to her seraphic voice.

Did she eat?

Is she happy?

Did she ever have any feelings for me?

Was she thinking about me right now?

I pushed myself even harder, doing a full sixty minutes on the treadmill, then a thirty minutes on the Stairmaster, and an added half-hour rowing, and to wrap up my workout, I did some breathing exercises to calm my heart rate.

Finally, I tossed the towel around my neck, and with jittery muscles, I stepped out of the gym. Every part of me had a pulse, and I could barely stand straight. I don't know if I was crying or if I was just sweating out of my goddamn eyes. Every step I took felt I was dragging two boulders with me, and like I was walking on fire. I ached but in the best way possible. It started as my punishment, but I was thankful for pushing myself to work out. I needed to take out my frustrations somewhere because it was getting tiring beating my dick to the thought of her.

Iris.

Her mouth.

Her skin.

Her breasts.

Her cunt.

Jesus, here we go fucking go again. Just when I thought I had gotten the temptress out of my mind, she popped right back in effortlessly. As if she had never left. As if she lived there. Iris inhabited every piece and fissure of me. I felt her in the pumping of my blood, in my very fucking soul, in the beating of my heart, and in every thought I had.

There was no man more pitiful than a man who wanted a woman who decimated his self-worth ten years ago, and that man happened to be me. She burned me to the fucking ground and stepped all over my ashes, yet here I was pining over her like some desperate, pitiful man. I could have any woman I wanted.

Whenever and however I want, yet the thought of touching another woman makes me sick to my stomach. The insatiable desire to have Iris beneath me again felt primal. It was psychotic to be thinking about a single person this much. Honestly, it should be illegal. I was nobody to her, some silly boy from high school that she easily manipulated and used for her own selfish needs.