by Haley Cass
But now, as Sutton stepped toward her, Charlotte shook her head and bit her lip. Damn Caleb.
“No, darli – Sutton. I’m . . .” She blew out a sigh. “It’s just been a longer day than expected.”
Sutton frowned, taking a step closer to follow her retreat; Charlotte both hated and loved that she knew that Sutton was seeing everything no one else could possibly read on her face.
“Do you want me to make you a cup of tea or something?”
She barely managed to hold back her scoff. What she wanted was for everything to be easier. What she wanted was to be able to live two lives. What she wanted was for her sexuality to not matter. What she wanted was for her past self to have listened to her first instinct, the night Sutton proposed having sex, that it would be a dangerous mistake.
“No, thanks.” She held up her hand before Sutton could come any closer, and she quickly looked around, narrowing her eyes. Her stomach lurched again, feeling like she’d been invaded, as she thought about Naomi informing her about all of the moments she was aware of between her and Sutton.
“We should go inside.” She knew her voice sounded as off to Sutton as it did to herself.
Perhaps she was now just being paranoid, but she couldn’t help but feel more secure as she shut the door behind them. She hated that, too, and she had to take a deep breath to try to center herself.
She tore her gaze away because it hurt looking at her, as Sutton gave her a tentative smile.
“Well, if you are up for company, I have notes on the debate. I was going to type them up and offer to go over them with you the next time we hung out, so you could keep them in your file. But I have them saved on my phone if you want to just have some to read over.”
She was so eager and sweet, and . . .
And Charlotte smiled at her, despite herself, her chest aching, because Sutton was so perfect. Of course she had notes and wanted to study them together. In an ideal world, they could curl up together and do just that.
This wasn’t an ideal world though, and the smile on her face slipped. She looked down at her hands, walking farther into the kitchen, as if it would give her any new perspective.
Sutton followed closely behind. “Are you okay?” She asked, a concerned frown on her face. “I don’t want to push you or anything but . . . last debate, you were acting a lot differently than this.”
Last debate hadn’t ended with Naomi coming this close to publicly being able to out her. Last debate hadn’t ended with Naomi threatening to lie in wait until Charlotte’s next miscalculation – one that would not only end in consequence for her, but also in Sutton’s outing to the entire world, when she wasn’t even out to her entire family.
The sincerity of Sutton’s worry made Charlotte want to cry, and she – she didn’t know what was wrong with her. This being one step away from tears, this aching in her chest, this wasn’t normal.
You are just bringing an end to the sex, she reminded herself. She was not losing Sutton from her life. There was a difference. And she could live with that.
She took a deep breath and gathered all of the courage she had left. “Sutton, I think we need to talk. Not about the debate or anything like that, just –”
In every romance movie she’d ever seen, she’d always thought these emotional moments were exaggerated. She’d spent her whole life thinking that those moments were dramatized.
But finding these words, the words to end this, was killing her.
She didn’t duck and run, though. That was not her, and with that, she resolutely kept her eyes on Sutton even as she wanted to look away. “I’ve been doing some thinking, and I think that it’s getting to be the time that we . . . rethink this.”
“This?” Sutton’s hands fidgeted in front of her. There was a flash of something across her face that Charlotte couldn’t quite recognize with how fast it disappeared, before Sutton rocked back and forth on her heels. “I – I’ve kind of been thinking about it, too. I think. Are we both talking, uh, about the same ‘this’?”
Sutton had been thinking about it, too?
It hurt. Which was hypocritical and unfair.
Licking her lips, she caught Sutton’s eyes with her own. “Our arrangement,” she clarified, clearing her throat. Twice, because it felt like it was tightening too fast, too painfully. She remembered Sutton coming to stand here in this very kitchen months ago, proposing rules to their friends with benefits situation, as if it was a business arrangement.
The memory made her almost made her smile. Almost.
At the very least it made it easier for her to rush out the words, “I think we should forgo the benefits part of our friendship.”
There. She said it. She said it, and she – well, her hands were shaking, and the backs of her eyes burned, but it was out there. It was for the best, for everyone, she reminded herself, and forced herself to keep going, “After all, I’m only going to get busier and deeper into the political world and I don’t think there’s anything else I could possibly teach you about sex, at this point.”
She tried to smirk, tried to make the words come out as playful, to lighten the moment.
But that was wrong, so wrong. There were so many things she wanted to do with Sutton, do to Sutton, and the thought of Sutton exploring that all with someone else threatened to make her sick.
Swallowing those feelings down, she watched Sutton’s face.
From the furrowing of her eyebrows in confusion, to the realization, to the crestfallen look, and every step of it made her stomach sink even more.
“What . . . did I do wrong?” Came out in a strangled whisper.
Charlotte’s stomach bottomed out, the change throwing her off balance as she shook her head. “Nothing. You didn’t do anything wrong, Sutton. Ever, not between us.”
There was a begging sound in her voice that she couldn’t have gotten rid of even if she wanted to.
“Well, something must have gone wrong,” Sutton insisted, her voice breaking and with it, the last shreds of Charlotte’s strength.
Yes! Charlotte’s brain screamed. You kiss me hello and goodbye and you make me miss you and want to cuddle, and that wasn’t supposed to happen!
“No,” was all that came out. She barely heard herself over the pounding of her heart in her ears.
“Then . . . why?” Sutton asked, her voice thick with tears that tore Charlotte apart, almost as much as seeing them shining in her eyes.
She didn’t know what to say, her mouth opening and no words coming out. Because we’re one small step away from everything falling apart? Because I want you so much it’s terrifying and life-changing? Because I want you but I also want my future and I can’t have both?
“It’s just . . . time.”
Sutton’s face crumbled completely and the vice around Charlotte’s heart tightened that much more. “What does that even mean? Are you – are you tired of having sex with me?”
“No!” God, that was the last thing she wanted her to think. She vehemently hated every single person in Sutton’s past who ever played into her insecurities, and she was now terrified that she was one of them. “Absolutely not. You’re so . . .” Beautiful. Sexy. Incredible. Brilliant.
There were so many words and none of them made it easier. She couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and cupping Sutton’s jaw in her hands, feeling the warm, soft skin under her fingertips. She stroked in circles with her thumbs trying to commit the feeling to memory, even as she promised, “That’s not it, Sutton, I promise.”
This was a mistake, she realized, touching her. Because she didn’t want to move. The deep, shuddering breath she took in almost broke on a cry that she kept in with everything she had.
She was going to miss touching Sutton, so freely. She hadn’t even realized it until now, and everything was moving too fast, far out of her control.
“Then, why?” Sutton repeated, her words a cracked whisper. Those tears fell down her cheeks, as she made no move to pull away from Charlotte’s
hold.
Which only made her heart thud even heavier, duller, in her chest. She felt like she was only a moment away from dissolving herself and she managed to let her hands fall.
Even as she tugged them through her hair they felt empty. “I think it should end before this gets any more serious.” The truth came out, and she could barely speak in more than a whisper, one that scraped her throat on the way out. “I think we both know that we’ve been blurring our lines a bit.” What an understatement. “And if we want our friendship to be intact, we need to end it now.”
It’s for the best, she reminded herself, as forcefully as she could. The pain is fleeting and it’ll be over and things will be okay.
Her mantra could only work the slightest bit to loosen the tightness in her chest, but she had to believe in it. She had to.
Especially as Sutton was wiping at her eyes with her palms, giving an erratic nod. “I – yeah.” A sob broke, even as Sutton pressed her lips together. “You’re right.”
It was a desperation that overtook her, because she . . . she needed Sutton. Maybe it wouldn’t be romantic or sexual or intimate in that way, but, “Please, Sutton, I don’t want to lose you. I can’t –” She cut herself off, swallowing hard. “You are so important to me. More important to me than almost anyone else in my life, and I want to keep you – keep you close,” she stumbled.
“No, yeah, you’re r-right,” Sutton’s voice was thick with tears as she hiccupped. She stepped back as she wiped over her eyes with her sleeve. “I . . . I have to go. I – you – I’ll see you.”
Even though it was something she’d known would have to happen, now that the moment was here she was gripped by a sharp, frantic anxiety about Sutton leaving. “Sutton, please.” She swallowed again to hold everything back that wanted to spill out. “We . . . you don’t have to go.”
“I do.” She quickly turned from Charlotte. Which meant she had a perfect view of how her shoulders shuddered with her tears, and the burrowing ache in Charlotte’s chest felt like it was widening into a chasm. “I have plans.”
She followed her to the door, wanting to beg her to stay because a whole new fear had taken root with every step Sutton took. The fear that this was the last time she was going to see Sutton was alive and well as her ears echoed with the sound of her quiet, muffled tears.
“Don’t; not like this. I know you need some time,” her own words broke as she quickly wiped at her eyes, wiping harshly at the tears that gathered. “Can I order you a car?” She reached out for Sutton, then hesitated.
“I’ll be f-fine.” Sutton’s shoulders heaved again and everything inside her felt absolutely wrecked. “I just – I need to go. I, um.” She paused at the door, her hand on the knob, holding so tightly Charlotte could see her knuckles turn white. “Bye?”
The door slammed shut behind her and she was left in deafening silence.
It wasn’t the last time she would see Sutton. It couldn’t be . . . But the worry didn’t go away in the least. In fact, it only burrowed in deeper, harder.
We were never going to be able to be anything real, she reminded herself, desperately. Ending it now saved them pain in the long run. Ultimately it was better for the both of them. It was the only thing that would save their friendship.
Her throat was so tight she could barely breathe, and she didn’t even have it in her to panic even though she’d never felt like this before.
Her hands clenched hard, trying to help contain everything inside that wanted desperately to break open, as she turned to walk back into the kitchen. She couldn’t look at the door and think about Sutton leaving and worry about how permanent it was.
She just had to get herself together. She just . . . she just . . . Sutton would realize that this was for the best. They would work through it. She just needed to wait out the storm. To wait out Sutton. To wait out this crushing feeling in herself.
She could do it. She –
Came to a dead stop when she actually looked at the kitchen table for the first time since arriving home. The same table where just this morning Sutton had sat, wearing her glasses and drinking from the mug she’d claimed as her favorite.
Roses lay out on the table, a vibrant, yellow and red bouquet, nearly bursting out of the paper. Her hands shook when she reached out for the card on top, written in familiar, delicate writing:
Charlotte – I snuck back in with your key after I finished my paper. Even if we won’t be seeing each other tonight, I wanted you to know that I had no doubts about how amazing you would be, and that I’ve been thinking of you and wishing you unnecessary luck all day.
Love, Sutton
She barely registered her knees giving out, sliding down the wall until she hit the floor. Her fingers curling into the card so tightly, as if it could serve as a connection to Sutton herself.
Chapter 21
The letter from the Roman Archives sat in Sutton’s hands, welcoming her to the program with all of the necessary details. Despite having only gotten it the day before, it was already worn from the amount of times she’d read it then folded it up again.
She wanted to feel excited about this, and some small part of her did. But on the much larger scale, everything was such a mess and she felt utterly exhausted. Worn down and hollow.
It was one of the most prestigious internships she possibly could have applied for; something that she hadn’t really believed she’d be capable of getting accepted to. And more than that, it was hers.
Something she’d done, for once in her life, without consulting her family and Regan first. Regan should have been the person she’d talked to about this, given that if she did go, she’d be leaving her alone in their apartment, her share of the bills unpaid. Instead, she’d only talked about it with Charlotte, and thinking about her soft smile when she’d encouraged Sutton to apply just hurt now.
Blowing out a deep breath, Sutton stared blankly down at the letter.
The thing she could admit to herself now was that she’d never expected to get to a point where this internship was a reality. She’d put this incredible but far away future on hold in her mind with the hope that before this would even be on the horizon, Charlotte would have confessed having feelings for her.
That she was in love with her in this painful, wonderful, heart-aching, wanting kind of way that Sutton loved her. That things would then slot into place, and she would just stay here, with Charlotte, and everything would work out.
But when it came to love, she always seemed to be wrong. With both Kyle and Joshua, her only two actual relationships, she’d constantly been guessing, misunderstanding, and easily taken advantage of. She’d just thought that things with Charlotte had been different.
“You’re so damn stupid,” she murmured. Her stomach clenched so painfully she lifted a hand to it and rubbed as if this was a physical ache she could make go away.
“I think that letter you’ve been smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles from proves that you are far from stupid,” Emma’s voice came from behind her.
Sutton jumped, quickly rubbing at her eyes as discreetly as she could, before she turned to look over the back of the couch at her friend. Who had emerged from her room, dressed for the day, her messenger bag that she brought to campus every day slung over her shoulder.
She managed a pathetic excuse for a smile. “Hey.” She flickered her eyes back to the internship letter. “I – no, I wasn’t talking about this.”
It was everywhere except for academics that Sutton felt like she was flailing.
Despite Emma’s typical candid frank demeanor, she gave Sutton a quietly sympathetic look. “So, if we aren’t talking about your amazing internship, does this mean you finally want to talk about the night that shall not be named?”
Sutton ducked her head. Embarrassed and miserable, exactly how she’d felt ever since she’d showed up here at Emma’s apartment a few nights ago. After she’d left Charlotte’s apartment, her heart shattered, barely able to see through her tear
s. She’d roamed the street until she’d felt fairly numb, before finally getting herself together enough to hop on the subway and get out of the frigid February weather.
It was almost a surprise to herself that she’d ended up at Emma’s. But going home, facing Regan, felt next to impossible. Like if she went home, the cocooning numbness she’d taken refuge in would disappear.
She’d never been so well-acquainted with a friend’s couch as she now was.
“No. Thanks, um, for offering. Again.”
Emma offered a lopsided smile. “My couch might not be the most comfortable, but it’s yours for as long as you want it.” A look of disdain crossed her face. “Unless Regan comes hounding the TA office for you again; then I’ll be forced to give up your location.”
She couldn’t even really muster up an appropriate scoff, instead giving an appreciative smile. “Thanks.” Her fingers traced over the edges of the letter.
“I have to get going, or I’ll be late for class.” After a beat, she sighed. “Look, I know I’m not always the most . . . sensitive person. You can talk to me, though.”
That really did garner a real smile, and it felt like she hadn’t done that in days.
“I know.”
“Good. And, uh, you’re welcome to hide out here as long as you need. But sometimes it’s better to rip off the band-aid from . . . whatever is going on.” She nodded as if pushing out the words had been stressful. “Okay. Well. See you later.”
Sutton got in a wave before the door creaked shut behind Emma and she found herself in the silent apartment. Taking a deep breath, she put down the letter and instead picked up the phone she’d been avoiding.
She knew she had messages on there from her family and from Regan, but she knew instinctively that the second she spoke to her mom or to her friend, that was it. There would be no more bubble to try to hide from the world.
