The Way It Used to Be

21

When Jack had opened the door and pulled her inside, I wanted to run to her. I wanted to pull her against me and hold her and tell her it was okay and that I'd hold her through the storm.

It took everything in me not to call her every day. It took everything in me not to text her. I felt like I was tied to concrete blocks. A statue. The world was moving around me, and I was standing still. Beau was the only thing I could think of. I stayed up at night staring at the ceiling, phone in hand, typing her the same text over and over.

I miss you, Beautiful.

I'd type it then delete it over and over again. I couldn't sleep without her. It wasn't just the absence her physical presence. It was knowing that she had broken something deep inside me when she kept that secret from me.

I had resolved to focus on Jamie. Jamie was my fiancée, and I was going to marry her. I knew that. I had promised her.

After the night at Noah's camp house, she asked me if I still loved Beau. I told her I didn't, even though I knew I still did. When we met and I first told her about Beau, she asked me if I would want to fix things with Beau or try again if she ever came back. I told her I didn't, because I had convinced myself that Beau would never come back. It was easier to give up than to keep looking for her Jeep every time I went to Verne's.

I promised her it was just her now. Beau was the prologue in my life. She was a previous chapter. A song I no longer listened to but would know years from now when the lyrics played on the radio. A story told long ago.

But then, there she was. Standing in my living room, soaked to the bone, water running down her arms and her face. Thunder crashed and then Jack was hugging her. Holding her. Rubbing her face.

Something inside of me opened up again, and I couldn't stand the sight of it. I had to touch her. Had to have her. Had to press her against me. Had to breathe in her scent. Her lavender and vanilla soap and lotion. The rain on her skin. The shampoo in her hair.

The siren was wailing, and I couldn't think about anything but her. I was touching her now and it was the only thing that mattered. She was freezing, and I wanted to scoop her up, put her in the tub, warm her up, and then tuck her head under my chin.

Somehow, she was in my room again. Peeling off her wet clothes. Looking at me with those eye.

God damn, I loved her.

I could hide it most of the time. I could stifle it and ignore it and pretend it no longer existed when she wasn't around. When she wasn't right in front of me. Now, here she was, and I couldn't stop staring.

I needed to walk away. I needed to take her home.

Then the lights were out, and it was like the darkness clouded my conscious. I had my hands on her before I could stop myself, picking her up off the floor. She still fit perfectly in my arms. Fit perfectly against my skin. She was created just for me. She was carved out —a masterpiece just for me. She was mine. Would always be mine.

I needed her desperately. I couldn't touch her enough. Her waist. Her hips. Her stomach. My lips were against her neck, breathing her in, just about to taste her.

Stop talking, Beau, I can't stand it. I need you too much.

Lights on.

There's Jamie staring at back at me from behind a glass frame. Jamie, who I promised I wouldn't do this to. Jamie, my fiancée.

It was the strangest thing. When Beau was near me, I didn't think about her at all. She never crossed my mind.

Beau was shirtless on my bed. I was in my boxers. My skin against her skin. Her sweet, perfect, soft skin.

Pulling myself out of her arms was the hardest thing I've ever done, only second to living without her for two years. Pulling myself out of her arms while she cried for me to stay was almost my undoing.

No, Colt, please, stay.

Her voice was in stereo in my mind. Surround sound. It echoed off the walls in my room and bounced back to me, enhanced and louder, until the only sound in my mind was my name in her voice. 

I didn't want to go. I wanted to fall into bed with her. Feel myself inside her again. Pretend she never left. Hold her all night.

I promised Jamie, though.

I made a point not to look back at her when I left the room. I made a point to stay on the couch for the rest of the night, even though I knew she was upstairs, curled up in my bed.

When the morning came and the alarm on my phone sounded, I still hadn't fallen asleep. I was staring at the ceiling with the blanket draped over my legs. The blanket which she had not forgotten. My back hurt, and I knew I'd be useless at work, which was unfortunate given the storm that happened the night before.

I pulled myself up and fixed a cup of coffee before I walked upstairs. I knew where everything was in my room, and I could find it without turning the light on and waking her up. The sun was just starting to rise, and the sky was a navy blue. I could barely see her, curled on her side, arm stretched out and fingers splayed on my side of the bed. 

Touching the spot where I should be.

She was wearing Jack's T-shirt, and it unnerved me. I hated seeing her curled up in his shirt. She should have been wearing mine. I knew Jack didn't have feelings for her. I wasn't even sure he had ever looked at her in a way other than as the love of his brother's life or a little sister.

She was mine, though.

She couldn't be mine anymore.

I got dressed in the bathroom. I refused to even shower. My skin still faintly smelled like her.  I could still feel the places she had touched with her fingers. It would most likely be the last time I'd ever feel her skin on my skin like that.

The thought made me nauseous as I looked at her.

My Beautiful.

I felt sick. I felt physical pain as I walked toward her. All of the lasts kept listing themselves in my mind. Last time I'd touch her. Last time she'd be in my bed.

Last time I'd kiss her.

I walked to the bed and bent, careful not to wake her. Cautiously, I brushed her hair away from her face. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake up. Then, I touched my lips to her temple, kissing her softly. I lingered there, breathing her in again.

"Bye, Beautiful", I whispered against her skin before leaving the room.

And her.