Chapter twenty-nine

8.3K 255 10
                                    

It's quiet in his car

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

It's quiet in his car. Awfully quiet and the reason is my idiocy.

Perhaps it was the emotions rushing through me, his closeness, the comfort of his arms, or how when all my walls are broken down, I don't mind him stepping inside the ruin.

I don't mind him being close yet his reaction to my wanting to kiss him threw the consequences of my past actions in my face.

I want to demolish the label of friendship, he wants nothing more than to cherish it. I'm an idiot for not doing the same. An utter idiot for risking losing him again because of the spark in my chest that grows each time he looks at me. I wish the unrequited attraction would extinguish the fire within me yet I know the chances are slim since three years and 62 miles between us couldn't do the trick.

I look over at him wanting to say something, anything at all but when I notice how his usual warm features are now stone cold, the words escape me. I screwed up even though I promised myself I wouldn't step beyond the clear borders of friendship. I shouldn't have tried to kiss him because I knew he wouldn't want me to. I was sure until the moment he kept a hold of my hand and rhythmically kept brushing his thumb against the back of my fingers to comfort me. I was certain until his eyes flickered down to my lips like he wanted to be reminded of what they felt like on his. At that moment I wanted to explore if he shares the longing I have been feeling since the night at the party. I gave in to that emotion and paid the price with an awkward silence and a knotted stomach from guilt and shame.

I advert my gaze back to the street and start to analyze the past 20 min. Did I read the signals wrong or did he, if only for one second, actually want to give in to the sexual attraction between us? If there even is one in his eyes. Perhaps I changed reality to the liking of my own desires instead of facing the truth that I ruined what we had. My mind drifts back to our conversation and his words that hit closer to home than I was prepared for.

It's not because one day someone makes you feel happy that the times they made you feel otherwise aren't worth discussing anymore. Because sometimes there are things left unsaid and problems left unsolved that can be cleared by a good conversation.

His words sound easy. For him they probably are because building conversations and being open about emotions seems to come naturally to him. When his heart is heavy, he talks to relieve it from part of the burden. When mine is heavy, I run in the other direction hoping the burden would disappear by ignoring the cause. By repeating his words in my mind, I start to wonder if he was only talking about my mom and me or if somewhere in between the lines he was talking about us.

"Do you think there are still things unsaid between us?" I blurt the question instead of keeping it hidden in my mind. I force myself to look at him even though I'm scared of the reaction I'll see. His stiff posture makes me doubt bringing back the past is a solid tactic for trying to save what's left between us. Every cell inside my body wants to go back to my old ways of dealing with situations like this by avoiding confrontation and ignoring I almost kissed him. Ignoring that he sprinted away like I could set him on fire by only touching him. Ignoring that my chest caved in, burying my heart under the debris when I realized I have lost him in the way I want him most. Knowing I'm the reason he has built walls to keep his distance only hurts more.

"Do you?" He volleys back. I know my answer, however, I'm scared to be the first to open up about all the unsaid words that have been haunting my mind for three years.

"I feel like you do." He parks in front of my apartment and shuts off the engine, creating a heavy silence when the radio stops playing. A stinging feeling spreads across the tip of my thumb signaling I've created a little wound by scratching my nailbed but I can't look away from him to see how bad the damage is.

He briefly shuts his eyes as he huffs. "August, what do you want me to say?"

"I don't know."

"I think you do," he shoots back as he glances my way. His eyes are filled with emotions I can't place but I know none of them are happy.

I swallow away the lump in my throat. "Are you still mad about me leaving?"

His jaws clench but he shakes his head. "I'm not mad. I'm," he sighs creating time for himself to find the correct translation for his feelings. "I didn't lie when I said we're good but I can't help but think back to that night when you-."

Before he can add anything I interrupt him. "I'm sorry for that." By the sound of my apology, he grips the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white from the force he's using.

"I'm not a distraction from your hurt, August. I won't let myself be that again." My heart stops and tears fill my eyes.

"Is that what you think happened three years ago?"

"Isn't it?" He sounds defeated and it breaks me because I'm the reason. My chin trembles from trying to hold back my emotions from pouring out. I shake my head to give myself more time to steady my voice.

"No. God, no." Every letter pronounced is a wobbly mess and I bite my lip to bite back the tears threatening to fall. "I loved you, Colin," I whisper.

His eyes fall shut as he quietly takes in the rest of my words. "With all my heart but I didn't let myself love you the way I should've. The way you deserve." I breathe in deeply and back out. "Those are my unsaid words. I loved you and you never deserved the way I treated you and I'm sorry for-" The words get stuck in my throat when a sob uncontrollably rises.

I take a moment to regain power over my voice before I continue. "Basically everything. I made decisions based on my fears and I chose wrong. I know that now because losing you was the last thing that I wanted yet the only thing I did when I ran away. But I was so blinded by my fear that for every good scenario I had a worst-case one ready to demolish the better option. That night was an accumulation of different fears, a rollercoaster of worst-case scenarios becoming reality and I panicked. And I chose wrong." The confession is the start of the waterfall of words constructing the story of the night I ruined us.

Worth the RiskWhere stories live. Discover now