If I Can't Have You || (N.M.)

Chapter 1

Three o'clock in the morning was more than familiar to an insomniac like me. The darkness, the silence, and the loneliness of it all was something that I knew all too well.

Right now, it was three o'clock in the morning.

But instead of being curled up with a cup of tea, I was curled up with a man who felt like a stranger, and as his cold wet lips pressed against the back of my ear, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine him as the boy I once loved; the boy I still loved.

I tried so hard to find sanctity in other men, but none of them even came close to the one who walked away from me almost an entire year ago. They didn't have tattoos for me to trace and turn them on. They didn't have his lips or his voice or his sense of humor. They weren't him.

Yet here I was, trying to convince myself that some guy I'd only known for four months was enough to fill the empty void in my heart. Here I was, about to give him my virginity, the last thing I had left. Something promised to someone else, who ran away before the deed could be done.

So this is what I had resorted to.

Wanting to be touched and caressed so badly that I pretended to be in love with someone who wasn't who I wanted them to be. Someone who wasn't Nate.

"I love you so much Cassandra," he whispered to me, hands dangerously close to my inner thigh.

"I love you too." I lied through my teeth.

This isn't what love is meant to feel like.

"Goddamn, I'm so glad you finally let me touch you," he groaned into my ear as he tightened his grip on my waist.

I used to love when Nate touched me like that, turning me on without him even knowing it. But this was so different. It felt like he was burning his handprints into my bare skin and I didn't like it at all.

But I pretended, because that's all I could do nowadays. The only real connection I had ever made was now lost, so I had to fake new ones.

Maybe this isn't so bad, I thought to myself, Calvin is a nice guy. We could make this work. I don't have to love him to have a life with him.

It was true. Cal was a true gentleman. He held open doors, pulled out chairs, took care of me when I was sick, the whole nine yards. The only bad thing about the situation was that I just couldn't bring myself to feel for him, no matter how hard I tried.

Now the two of us were lying in my bedroom, barely clothed, about to commit what I knew were several sins. But I never told him to stop.

It'll be over before I know it.

Cal positioned himself on top of me and looked into my eyes. I could see the emotion in them and I felt so damn guilty. In the few short months we had known each other, he had actually fallen for me. But I couldn't say that I had done the same.

I hoped that maybe this would work out like the arranged marriages I'd read about in all my old books. I'd learn to love him. I'd force myself to love him.

"Are you ready?" he asked me, stroking my cheek and gazing at me with all the adoration in the world.

I tried to form the word "yes" but it just wouldn't come out. It was one syllable but it was so hard to say.
It was just at the tip of my tongue when a loud noise made both me and Cal scramble from our positions and sit upright on the bed.

"What the hell was that?" My chest hammered as I asked the question.

Then it came again - Knocking.

Someone was pounding on my front door, loud and hard like the police.

"Stay here," Cal told me as he quickly pulled his pants back on over his boxers, not even bothering with a shirt. "I'll go see who it is."

He grabbed the baseball bat he knew I kept under my bed since I lived alone, and started walking carefully toward the door.

Instead of heeding his instructions, I tied on a robe and followed closely behind so that I could see what was going on and figure out who was standing outside of my apartment.

"Who is it?" Cal called through the door.

There was a moment of silence before the voice rasped from the other side, sounding strained and broken.

"Sandra?"

Calvin looked back at me, just as confused as I was, but for a different reason.

While one of his dark brown eyebrows rose in curiosity, both of mine rose in surprise.

Not because I didn't know who was out there, but because I knew exactly. I just never thought that I would hear from him again.

"Cassandra, it's Nate."

That was all the validation I needed.

"If it's you then please, just open the door."

I knew that Cal was looking at me for an explanation, but I couldn't give him one.

"Just let me answer it," was all I could offer him.

Reluctantly, he backed away from the door, allowing me to unlock it for our unexpected visitor.

It took me a while to get to opening the door, resting my hand on the knob for a long time, not sure how I was feeling.

Then slowly, I twisted it.

Then I opened it.

Then I stood there, not wanting to look up.

Then with all the emotional strength I could muster, I raised my head and looked into a set of empty, red eyes.

"Nate," I whispered, biting back tears.

He didn't respond, but I knew it was because he couldn't find the words to say.

Neither could I.

I turned my head to look at Calvin, who still stood behind me, a glint of frustration in his eyes.

"Just give me a few minutes," I pleaded with him.

With no words, he rolled his eyes at me and walked back to the bedroom as I shut the door behind myself.

Nate and I stood alone on the balcony, the late night breeze sending shivers all throughout my body.

For the longest, we just stared at each other, seeing how much had changed in the past year.

He looked exhausted, like he had spent the last twelve months running on coffee and minimal amounts sleep.

I had so many questions, but I started with the one that had been lingering on my mind since he left me. I took a step closer and brought my face near to his.

I wanted him to see the pain he caused me just as much as I could see his.

"Why?" I asked him, "Why did you go?"