Always You

by Jerica MacMillan

  Hannah sighed. “I know. I’ve been over it a thousand times. But if he’s not willing to even look for something else in the two months before the conflict is back in place, then I can’t be with him. Even he told me I should stand up for myself and what I want to do. So this is me doing that. Even though it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  Elena pulled Hannah into another hug. “I know. I’m sorry. Let me know if you need my help meeting someone new, and I’m there.”

  Hannah squeezed her back and let go. “Alright. Well, based on your picks earlier this semester, I don’t need you setting me up with anyone. But maybe some girls’ nights out would be good. In a couple weeks or so.”

  “Deal.”

  Matt went through the rest of the week in a daze. He called off sick on Wednesday, too hungover to function. He knew Janine would give him shit about it the next day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing mattered anymore. He was shattered, and the best he could hope for was numbness.

  He didn’t drink as much on Wednesday night. Enough to dull the edge of pain caused by the hole in his chest, but not so much he wouldn’t be able to function the next day. He nodded through Janine’s lecture, making sure to keep his face impassive. Not that he had any trouble. He couldn’t give a shit about what she had to say to him or why she was mad. He knew it was because he’d called off sick twice that week, the first time to spend the day with Hannah. And she definitely didn’t approve of that relationship. But he didn’t bother to tell her they’d broken up. Partly because he still couldn’t believe it himself. And partly because telling her would penetrate the blanket of numbness he’d wrapped around himself to get through the day.

  Friday was more of the same, going through the motions at work on autopilot, relying on routine to get things done. Janine dumped all her grunt work for the day on his desk, glaring at him as she did so. Her admin normally took care of this stuff, but she was busy checking in with all of the interns that had been Matt’s responsibility. Janine had too much to do to bother dealing with them herself, which was part of why she’d been so pissed at him when she’d found out about Hannah and had to take the interns away from him.

  A bitter laugh escaped him when he realized how unnecessary it was. Hannah had broken up with him at the first chance. No matter what she’d said, she’d been looking for an excuse to break up with him all along, a reason to justify why they shouldn’t be together. She’d told him that she didn’t trust him when he saw her in January. He thought he’d won her over, gotten her to trust him again, but he’d obviously been wrong. She wouldn’t have been able to walk away from him so easily if that had been true.

  “Matt?” Janine’s concerned voice penetrated his grim thoughts.

  He raised his eyes to find her peering at him over the top of his cubicle. “Yes?”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.”

  She tilted her head to the side, her mouth pursed and her eyebrows scrunched together. “I don’t think so.” She shook her head slowly. “What’s going on? You’ve barely said three words today and yesterday combined. I’ve never seen you like this.”

  He shrugged, knowing that only proved her point. “It’s personal, Janine. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yeah, that’s not going to work with me.” She crossed her arms on top of the cubicle wall, settling in for a long conversation. “If it’s affecting your work, then it does matter. And you’re not even filing things correctly. You’ve been here long enough that you know better, so either you can tell me here, or we can go in my office, and I’ll ask a million questions until I pull it out of you. Which would you prefer?” One manicured brown eyebrow arched up.

  Fine. She wanted to know what was wrong? He’d tell her and wait for her to gloat. He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, his eyes never leaving hers. “I told Hannah about our conversation on Tuesday.”

  “I take it that it didn’t go well?”

  “Ha.” It was supposed to be an ugly laugh, but he couldn’t even pull that off. It sounded like he just said a word. “Yeah. You could say that. She dumped me.”

  Janine’s other eyebrow raised up to match the first, but she didn’t say anything. He waited for something. An, “I told you so,” or an apology or something, but she just continued to stare at him. He held her gaze, waiting her out. She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s probably for the best. If she’s going to break up with you that easily, she’s definitely not worth ruining your career over. Count yourself lucky it ended now before you got in too deep.”

  He stared at her for a moment, blown away at her callous dismissal of their relationship. But instead of blowing up like he wanted to, he just grunted, making sure his mask of indifference stayed firmly in place.

  Hannah was right. He couldn’t stay here. He didn’t like this place enough to give her up for a career that he hated.

  Turning away from Janine, he went back to the pile of mindless paperwork and data entry she’d given him to do today. “Sorry for screwing things up. I’ll pay more attention from now on.”

  “Good.” She waited a few beats, still looking at him over the wall of his cubicle, but he refused to return her gaze, hoping she’d get the idea that he was done talking. He let out a breath when he heard her move away, heading back to her office. Thank God his chair faced away from the cubicle opening so he didn’t have to see her while she sat working at her desk.

  Now he just needed to figure out how to do what he’d always wanted and get paid for it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  After work on Friday, Matt made a spur-of-the-moment decision to go home for the weekend. It would be a quick trip and lots of driving, but he needed the time and space to think and figure himself out. He’d lost Hannah from being too chickenshit to realize that he cared more about her than a crappy job that he didn’t even like. Sure, it paid the bills, but she was right. There were lots of ways to pay the bills. And lots of time to get stuck in a rut where paying the bills was the most important thing. He was twenty-two, almost twenty-three, and only responsible for himself. His parents had always taught him to save for a rainy day, so he had some money saved up, enough to get by for a while, especially if he kept his expenses about the same.

  The clock in his car read 11:49 when he got to his parents’ house. He’d called on his way out of town to warn them that he was coming. One lamp glowed in the window when he pulled his truck into the driveway, letting him know that his mom had waited up for him. She sat in her favorite chair reading a book, wearing a robe, ready for bed as soon as she saw that he’d gotten in safely.

  She stood when he walked in the door and gave him a hug. “Are you hungry?”

  He hugged her back, already feeling more grounded from the drive and the anchor his mother provided. The familiar smells of home surrounded him—fresh baked bread mixed with the lemony smell of cleaners and the scent of the fabric softener she used floating up from her clothes.

  Pulling back, he nodded. “Yeah, I could eat.”

  She smiled up at him and headed into the kitchen, getting out the rolls she must have baked that evening. “It’s a good thing I was making stew for dinner tonight. I always make a big batch and freeze half so your father and I can have it again later. But when you said you were coming I left it in the fridge.”

  Matt sat at the dining room table, happy to let his mom fuss over him. He hadn’t been home since Thanksgiving, and he enjoyed having someone take care of him. After she’d warmed up his food in the microwave, she set it in front of him, running her hand over his hair and down to his back in a show of maternal affection. He looked up into her face and noticed her concerned eyes.

  “Is everything alright, Matt? It’s not like you to just up and drive across the state like this. Are you in trouble?”

  Swallowing down the first bite of stew, he shook his head, giving his mom a reassuring smile. “No, Mom. I’m not in trouble. I just needed to get away and clear my head. I’ll
tell you about it tomorrow.”

  She nodded, covering a yawn. “Okay. Well, it’s late for me, so I’m going to bed.” She dropped a kiss on the top of his head. “Goodnight. See you in the morning.”

  “Night, Mom.”

  The next morning Matt woke up early, eager to get out on the water. That was the real reason he’d come. He planned on discussing everything with his parents, too, but first he needed to get his own head straight.

  March could be iffy for surfing in Westport, but the weather cooperated this weekend, thank God. After checking the surf report, grabbing a quick breakfast, his longboard, and wetsuit, he headed for the Jetties, not wanting to have to pay the fee to get into the state park today.

  He sucked in his breath when he got in the water, the cold permeating his wetsuit. It was just warm enough out today that he didn’t go for the drysuit, but it had been so long since he’d spent much time in the ocean that he regretted that decision. Not enough to get out and go home to change, though.

  Paddling out, he used the cold to focus his mind and spur him on, glad that there weren’t too many people out competing for the available waves. It wasn’t great surfing, but it felt so good to be on a board again, one with his body, fully present, moving with the flow of the ocean. The only other time he’d felt like this recently, this feeling of inhabiting his body instead of living in his head, was when he’d been wrapped up in Hannah. She did this to him, gave this to him, and he didn’t even think she realized how much he needed this feeling to stay sane, how much he needed her. He needed it like he needed air.

  Football came close. It gave him the physical exertion he craved, coupled with the feeling of moving as part of something bigger than himself, though he had to keep his head in the game, paying attention to the unpredictable movements of other players. In the water, on a surfboard, he moved based on instinct, feeling the shifts in the ocean more than seeing them.

  But football was over, and he lived too far inland to get to the ocean on a regular basis. With Hannah he acted on instinct, on feeling, more than with his higher cognitive functions. Maybe that explained how he’d fucked everything up. Maybe Janine was right, and he’d used his little head more than his big head. But she was wrong that his relationship with Hannah was a waste of time and not worth giving up his career over.

  She was worth getting a new career over.

  She was worth everything.

  Now that he had that figured out, he just had to figure out how he could do this and get paid for it. Hannah’s suggestion that he put together corporate travel packages for executives, taking them to fabulous surf spots had stuck in his mind. He could charge enough to cover the costs of travel for himself and them, equipment rental, and surf lessons from him for everyone. He had experience teaching surfing, and he’d enjoyed it enough to do it every summer since he’d been good enough for the local surf shops to hire him. He hadn’t done it this last summer for the first time in years, choosing to stay in Spokane for his internship, trying to be a grown up and make smart decisions. Even then he’d come home before the internship started to help out at the surf shop, and on a few weekends when they had more students than they could handle.

  He’d have to run numbers, research what it would cost to go different places along the Pacific Coast, and figure out where and how to market everything. Maybe he could get some people to help him with start-up capital. A smirk came to his face as he thought about the signing bonus Chris might get if he got drafted somewhere. He’d be willing to invest in Matt’s fledgling company, and he’d probably get a group together to use Matt’s services once Chris’s first football season ended. That would be the perfect time to take a surfing vacation somewhere warm.

  After a few hours, the weather changed, a spring storm blowing in, chopping up the water. Matt drifted in, his mind full of possibilities and plans. He’d talk to his parents, figure out the numbers, get some plans down on paper and get this worked out. Once he had that plan in place, he’d find a way to win Hannah back. Because none of it would mean much without her.

  Hannah threw herself into school and work, trying to block out the memories of her time with Matt and the familiar agony of missing him. She did everything possible to avoid seeing him at work or thinking about him any other time, determined to get over him as fast as she could. Her subconscious was less cooperative, waking her up from dreams of him—of his hands and mouth and cock, his dirty words, and the way she felt with him—flushed and needy, a pulsing ache between her thighs. On those days she got up and took a shower, trying her best to wash away the memories from her skin, not even willing to touch herself to relieve the pressure, and threw herself into homework or an ongoing project for work.

  Since Matt no longer managed the interns, she didn’t have trouble avoiding him there. She rarely left the marketing department, and she imagined he stayed busy with whatever grunt work Janine had him working on as punishment. She pushed away thoughts that he was being punished for dating her, reminding herself that he’d known the risks and pursued her anyway. And the ugly truth was, he must’ve been planning on asking her not to take a summer internship if one were offered, to sacrifice herself and her goals for him to keep a crappy job he didn’t even like. That thought burned, firming her resolve anytime she wavered and thought about calling him or texting him. Just to see how he was doing. And tell him how desperately she missed him.

  He called a few times that first week after they broke up, but she sent every call to voicemail and deleted the messages without listening to them. She knew if she gave in at all that they’d be back where they started, at this impasse again. And this time she might give in to him, and she didn’t know if she could live with herself if she did that.

  She bumped into him once at work in the break room. She’d been in there getting fresh coffee for herself and Sandra, when someone else walked in.

  “Hannah.” Matt’s voice caused her body to flush, and a shiver raced up her spine and the breathless sound of his voice. But she didn’t want him to know how much he affected her still. She forced herself to continue stirring sugar and creamer into her coffee before picking up both mugs and turning.

  She gave him a nod of acknowledgment. “Matt.” And she walked out the door. He called after her to wait, but she pretended not to hear him. When she rounded the corner, she had to stop and lean against the wall and take a few deep breaths to steady the shaking of her hands before she could keep going. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, to catch her in this moment of weakness, least of all Matt, so she didn’t linger. Forcing her spine straight and her head high, she walked back to Sandra’s desk like nothing could touch her, dropping off her mentor’s coffee before returning to her own computer to keep working.

  Elena did her part to distract Hannah, taking her out to clubs and parties that she knew about. Anytime either one of them saw anyone from the football team, they stayed far away, careful to avoid any possibility of encountering Matt or one of his friends. It was fun, mostly. She enjoyed going out dancing with her friend, and sometimes a few of their other friends joined them. After a couple weeks of fending off douchebags that didn’t understand the word no, they made sure to bring along Elena’s debate partner and one or two of his friends. Even if they were baby-faced freshmen, they were male, and dancing close to one of them deterred most of the unwanted attention.

  One Friday night in April, Hannah, Elena, and a few of their other friends were out at a club downtown when an arm snaked around Hannah’s waist like it had the right to be there and had done it a hundred times before. Annoyed, Hannah turned, ready to yell at some guy for getting too handsy without permission.

  “Daniel!” Her annoyance gave way to surprise at seeing her modeling partner for Megan’s paintings. “Hey! How are you?”

  He smiled down at her. “Hey.” She could feel his voice rumbling in his chest where she pressed against him, his arm still tight around her waist. He glanced around over her head then back down at her, l
eaning in close to be heard over the music and the crowd around them. “I saw you earlier and kept waiting for Matt to join you. Is he here?”

  She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  “Are you guys not …?” He let the question trail off, lifting his eyebrows.

  She shook her head again. “We broke up a few weeks ago.”

  His brows inched up just a little more before his smile spread even wider. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Hannah laughed. “Are you really?”

  He tugged her tight against him, moving with her to the music. One shoulder lifted in a lazy shrug. “Sorry for him.”

  Conversation was difficult on the dance floor, so they didn’t try to talk anymore, just danced. Hannah enjoyed herself more than she had in weeks. Daniel knew how to dance, and they moved together perfectly, allowing her to lose herself in the music, in this moment, her thoughts not taken up with worries about school or work or memories of Matt and how much she missed him. Matt didn’t even enter her thoughts once.

  After a few songs, she went up on tiptoes and shouted, “I’m thirsty!” into his ear.

  He nodded, threaded his fingers through hers, and led her off the dance floor to the bar. Leaning in close, his breath brushed against her ear. “What do you want?”

  “Just water.”

  He nodded again and pulled her behind him so that he could get drinks for both of them, water for her and beer for him. Once he’d paid, he pulled her off to the side, into a booth in the corner where they could talk. When she went to sit on the opposite side, he tugged her in next to him, his thigh pressed to hers.

  She gulped down her water, aware of Daniel’s eyes on her as he sipped his beer. Warmth spread through her from his attention. Not the out-of-control desire that she’d always felt with Matt, but she didn’t expect that, even if she missed it. Daniel was interested in her, and he was friendly and hot. She’d always compared everything with what she and Matt had had together, trying to replicate that again. But what if the chemistry between two people couldn’t be replicated with anyone else? It didn’t mean what you had with someone else was better or worse. Just that it was different, right? If she had any hope of getting over Matt, she needed to stop comparing guys to him, stop trying to replicate their impossible chemistry.