Why I Love Him | ✓ [SAMPLE]

Chapter 7

"Why are you all the way over there?" I looked over at Wayne when he asked the question, not knowing how to answer him. He had a confused look on his face — one of his brows raised high with his lips drawn in a thin line. He crossed his arms over his chest as he let out a sigh, his look of confusion turning into one of hurt. He was sitting on the long sofa in my living room. I was all the way at the other end of the room, standing by the door like a cornered mouse. I looked away from Wayne, staring at my feet as I nibbled at my bottom lip.

Wayne sighed again, making me look back at him. He ran a hand through his wavy hair before focusing his gaze on me. His eyes burned through me. It was uncomfortable. I had to look away and divert my gaze to anything but him. I stared at the carpet instead, hoping the awkward atmosphere would just go away.

Asking Wayne to come over was indeed a bad idea.

"Johnathan, I'm not going to do anything," Wayne said in a small voice. I looked up, letting my eyes settle on him. He looked frustrated and exhausted like he didn't know what else to do.

"I'm not sure how else I can convince you that I mean well..." he trailed, licking his lips before lifting himself off the sofa. "But I really mean this. I love you, John. I made a series of stupid mistakes in the past that I'm trying to fix now. Please, just give me a chance — I know you have, but, I don't know, open up a bit," he pleaded, walking towards me before stopping right in front of me. He cocked his head to the side, giving me a small smile as he buried his hands in his pockets as if he was afraid he would do something he would regret.

"Can I ask you something, Johnatan?" Wayne asked, making me tear my eyes away from him as I thought about it.

Ask me something? What? I wondered, looking back at him.

"Sure," I muttered in reply, and Wayne nodded, stepping away a bit. It seemed like he noticed he was making me uncomfortable.

"Are you still in love with me John?" My heart sank to my stomach at his question. I opened my mouth, closing it again when I realized I couldn't get my lips to form any words. I did. I did love him but telling him wouldn't be in my own interest. I don't know — I'm panicking.

I licked my lips, pushing back strands of my hair that was sticking to my face. I needed water. I needed a seat.

Why did Wayne ask me that?

"John," Wayne called, reaching out to hold my shoulders. "Please talk to me, I need to know."

No, no you don't. I said in my head. I really wanted to say that out loud, but I didn't. My feelings had been used against me before, I wouldn't let him do that to me again. Though I knew things were different now, I still couldn't. I was afraid. Wayne wasn't the person with crippling anxiety over getting outed or homophobic parents looming over him and his decisions. Wayne was out and proud. Wayne was here to get me, but I still couldn't. Old memories and fears were powerful. They governed my decisions, they overwhelmed me with 'what ifs' and anxieties.

"If you don't love me anymore. If you want nothing to do with me, I'll leave. I promise. I'll take the first bus out of town and find a way to halt my projects here," Wayne added when I didn't give him a reply to his question.

A part of me wanted me to let him go, but another part of me was stuck between my options. I loved him, and he was here for me — he was trying, but I was petrified. I didn't know what to do.

I was so overwhelmed that I started sobbing silently. There were streams of tears on my face, but I remained silent like my throat was clogged. I seemed to shock Wayne because he pulled me into a tight hug almost immediately. I closed my eyes when my face met his chest, taking in the expensive perfume scent that I've coded as Wayne's new one since he got here.