Obscured Love

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Obscured Love Page 19

by Delilah Mohan


  I was almost to the garage when I heard his footsteps pounding against the earth behind me. I didn’t stop, determined to make it to my car, leave him and this behind and cry in peace. But he wouldn’t let me go that easy and that made the pain worse, because I couldn’t understand how he could be so cold one minute and the next minute, pretend like he actually did care.

  “Stop for a second, Blue Eyes. What’s the matter?” His hand caught my bicep and I jerked away, recoiling from his touch. He held his hands up in surrender. “Please, let’s just talk about this for a moment. I’m not even sure what I did.”

  “You wouldn’t know, would you?” I spat, angry that he halted my exit and ticked that despite it all, just looking at him still made my heart flutter.

  “You’re crying.” He tried to pull me into him and I resisted. “What’s wrong? You can’t leave without talking to me, baby.”

  I hated that he used pet names, despised that his concern appeared so real, and I was fucking appalled that I was almost ready to fall for it all over again, knowing that the outcome would always be the same. I would always be second best, second rate, and second choice.

  “I think I’m done with this.” I told him, wiping the tears from my cheek.

  “With what?” His brows were scrunched up and fuck, I loved this look on him. It was always one of my favorites, and I loathed that at a time when I feel so broken, he still got to me.

  “With us.” It was statement, spoken more solidly than I felt.

  His eyes flashed and his voice rose, “What? Why? Is it because of Alexa’s parents? I told you, Lotus. I told you they were important to me. You knew from the start.”

  “Her parents are lovely.” I told him and I meant it. “I’m just done with us. I can’t do this anymore.”

  He was walking toward me now, stalking me like prey as I slowly stepped back, my legs hitting the bumper of my car. I knew I wasn’t in danger of him but in this moment, I needed him to stay away, keep his distance, and give me space. “You knew what this was from the start.”

  “You’re right, I did. And I know now that it’s time to let it go.” I took a deep breath, trying to be bolder than I felt.

  “I won’t accept this.” He slammed a hand into my trunk, not out of anger toward me but out of a need to release his frustrations.

  “You have no choice.” I whispered. “I don’t want this. With you. Any longer.” My voice cracked . . . the pain of my own words almost too much to speak.

  “I don’t care. I’m not ready for this to end yet. Don’t I get a say?” His voice was rough, his eyes hard, and it killed me to be the one to cause him hurt. But he had hurt me too, and if all we could do was hurt each other, we were never destined to make it.

  I watched him for a moment, my eyes refusing to leave him, before I gathered enough courage to speak. I licked my dry lips and took a deep breath, his eyes following my every movement. “You want to know the worst part about all of this, Beckett? I broke my own rules. I created these rules to follow, knowing that if I just followed my rules, I would be fine. I wouldn’t get hurt because every guy who met those requirements was safe. Boring. Dull. Then you came along and I didn’t want to like you because I knew you were too dangerous for me.”

  “I’m not dangerous.” He cut in.

  “You are dangerous, because despite what I told myself, I fell for you . . . God, I knew damn well and I did it anyway. So, I hid it away from you, thinking that surely you would come to your senses and not care anymore, that maybe. . . just maybe, you would man up and tell the world that you aren’t ashamed to be with me. That all the times we missed going out, or I had to hide in a closet, or walk side by side without touching you, would someday lead to a moment when I meant enough that none of it mattered any longer. I was wrong.”

  His face was contorted in confusion.” I don’t understand what you mean.”

  I continued, because once I started, I had to get it all out. “I understood you wanted our relationship to be a secret. That you didn’t do girlfriends and you like to appear unattached. But the fact that you think so little of me that you couldn’t even call our relationship a friendship, but downgraded me to an acquaintance . . . that hurt. I have to know, Beckett, how does it feel to live your life in denial?”

  He inhaled sharply, “I don’t even know what you mean.”

  “Don’t you?” I leveled my watery eyes on him.

  “I don’t fucking understand what you’re saying.” He shouted hoarsely.

  “No matter what I do, you don’t get it, Beckett. I put so much effort into proving that I love you and you refuse to accept it. Because I do. I fucking love you, Beckett Cole and I don’t care if you asked for it, if you wanted it, or if you needed it. Because you have it no matter what, you always have. But you spent so much effort on a quest to prove you aren’t worthy of owning my love that in return, you’ve made me feel unworthy. So much effort goes into hiding me from your world that I wonder ... do I have any worth to you?”

  I stared at him, his mouth opening and closing but no words or sounds escaping. I pushed gently on his chest, moving him out of my way so I could get in my car and leave what was once an “us” behind. I reached the handle of my door and opened it. “That’s sort of what I thought. You know what’s the worst part about this? You broke your promise.”

  His eyes were glassy and his voice rough when he asked, “What promise?”

  “You promised you would never let me fall and here I am falling, falling so fucking hard and fast and you’re not catching me.”

  I got into my car, buckled my seatbelt and turned on the ignition. He moved away from my car enough to back out. As I past, I heard him give me one last plead. A single word. It wasn’t enough. “Don’t.”

  I kept going, tears streaming down my face, traveling down my neck, soaking into the collar of my shirt and I didn’t care. I needed away from this, away from him, away from something I thought I had but never really owned. I pulled my car onto the street and started to drive with my broken heart, glancing once in the rear-view mirror, long enough to see Beckett sink to his knees in the dirt, covering his face with his hands, before hitting the accelerator and speeding away.

  Chapter 25

  BECKETT

  She told me she loved me and I just let her walk away.

  She wasn’t allowed to; I didn’t ask for her to love me. Hell, I sure as hell didn’t want her to.

  But somehow, for some reason, she did.

  I watched her get into her car, staring at her like I was a damn statue. I barely remembered stepping out of the way so she could back down the driveway. I fucking let her go. I let everything that was beautiful in my life drive away and I should have stopped her. I could have, if I’d really wanted to, but I froze.

  Memories brought me to my knees and I went willingly, unable to support myself on legs that had begun to shake. It was happening again, only this time, it felt more intense, sharp, disabling. I brought my hands to my face, scrubbing at my eyes, willing them to stop watering, trying to force air into my lungs.

  I cracked my eyes open, shielding my face from the painfully bright sun that was pouring through the cracks in the blinds. She was there, and just the sight of her laying naked, the big white feather down blanket covering only up to her lower back, her brown hair a wild mess, her eyes staring so intently at me . . . it made my heart swell.

  She was here. She came back for me like she always did, like she always promised she would. She smiled, but something seemed off. Her eyes had dulled and her face seemed tired, but that couldn’t be right, because she just spent her whole night next to me, sleeping. She wasn’t out partying this time, she wasn’t drunk or wasted on who knows what, she was my girl again, a hundred percent free of the world’s influences, just like the day we met.

  “Been awake long?” I asked as I brushed a stray strand of hair off her face from where it had fallen into her eyes.

  “Long enough to watch you sleep.” She replied,
moving her head to rest on her bicep.

  “Is something wrong, Alex?” I let my fingers trail along her back, grazing her skin lightly, not seductively but still intimate in the act itself.

  “I have to go.” She stated and I was confused because hadn’t she just got here, hadn’t she just came back to me?

  “Where?” My hand stopped its motion and my fingers laid splayed on her lower back.

  Her shoulders shrugged. “Away.”

  It was the only answer she gave me before she was off the bed, standing at the foot of it, staring at me. She held my gaze for a minute, almost like she was memorizing it; memorizing me. Then she disappeared into the closet and didn’t come out again until she was fully dressed. She put on a blue sundress, the one that was always my favorite, with thin straps and an eyelet pattern on the hem. It made her look beautiful, young and carefree.

  I watched her as I lay on my stomach, head on my folded arms, as she gathered her hair up in a messy pony tail and grabbed her purse off our dresser. She walked to me then, slowly running her fingers into my hair. I nuzzled my head against her hand, loving the feel of her skin tenderly touching mine. Her fingers traveled to my jaw and stroked it carefully.

  “Sometimes.” Her voice came out as barely a whisper. “Sometimes I wish you were enough for me.”

  She kissed my forehead, then she was gone. Completely, irreversibly, gone.

  I took a deep breath in remembrance of the day I had lost Alexa. The girl I loved unconditionally and I thought loved me too. I had vowed never again. I would not give my heart to anyone and give them the power to break me, wreck me, control me like a puppet . . . never again.

  This was different though, because Lotus said she loved me, practically begged me to love her too. I should have predicted this outcome, but I didn’t. I was blinded by lust for her, unaware of the potential danger to plan accordingly, and now I had let her leave. Out of all the events in my life that Alexa had put me through, I couldn't think of a single one of them that had me more terrified than Lotus not coming back.

  She would be back. She had to be.

  But as I stared at Lotus’ tail lights, I wanted to break my vow. I wanted to discard every precaution I had created and jump all in. Because she was leaving me, and in the weeks we had spent together, I’d forgotten how to be alone. I didn't think I really wanted to be anymore.

  I took in another deep breath then let it out, my body shuddering. No. She would be back. She was never angry at me long, this I knew for sure. I pulled myself to my feet, dusting off the legs of my jeans. Trying to ignore the rock I felt in my stomach and the painful twist in my chest I got every time I thought of her declaring her love, and announcing I had broken my promise.

  It wasn't important because she would be back. But as I made my back into my house, plastering a fake smile on my face, I got this feeling deep in the pit of my stomach and wasn’t quite so sure.

  I waited the whole evening for her phone call. Checked my phone for a text message every chance I got, positive at any second she would reach out. She didn’t. The more time that passed, the more positive I became that she had meant what she said, and we were done, through, completely over.

  Sitting through dinner with Janet and Phil should have been refreshing, but it wasn’t. I felt nauseous. Every morsel of food that passed my lips traveled down my throat and lodged in my stomach, like a chunk of stone. Guilt clawed at me, painfully gripping its talons into my nerve endings. I was on edge. I should have been enjoying this time, reminiscing with Alexa’s family, but the only thing on my mind was Lotus.

  I was in the wrong here. Not in regards to Lotus, but to be thinking about another girl more than the girl we all had lost. This was their time, and as I fought to keep my attention focused, my mind clear, and my breathing regular when all I could think about was how I was failing them, I was failing Lotus, and fuck. Lord knows I’d already failed Alexa.

  By the time they decided to turn in for the night, I was an internal wreck and thankful that I could just be alone for a bit without having to entertain. I grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet above the fridge, searched out a shot glass, and made my way to my back patio to wallow alone in the moonlight. I poured myself a shot and tossed it back, basking in the burn that traveled through me and touched the tips of every limb.

  She never called.

  She never texted.

  She sent me straight to voicemail.

  I looked at the bottle in my hand and the glass in the other. Fuck it, I brought the bottle to my lips and gulped down a giant swig. What did I have to lose? She already left me. She told me I was good enough, but she still fucking left without a single glance back. I took another pull of the bottle, my head already beginning to fuzz as the alcohol worked its magic. If she truly believed I was good enough for her, she would have never gotten into that car. That was the honest to God truth.

  “Is this a party of one or can I join?” I heard Phil’s voice coming from over my shoulder.

  I held up the bottle in the air, offering it to him, not even bothering to look over my shoulder and see him. What was the point? I’d already been caught drinking in the dark, he didn't need to look in my eyes and see the insecurities that I’d been trying to keep hidden. He took the bottle from my fingers, more like pried, and then took a seat across from me.

  “You love that girl, don’t you?” It was more of a statement than an actual question.

  “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” I reached for the bottle but instead of handing it off, he brought the bottle to his own lips, taking a swig. His eyes settled on me, a stern gaze that would have made me squirm if the alcohol hadn’t already calmed me.

  “You know, I almost lost Janet once. I practically put a bow on her and handed her over to the quarterback of our high school football team, Arnold Smootzer.” He chuckled, I just stared. “I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if I didn’t finally suck up my pride, stop the pity party and chase my girl. One thing I’ve learned about women is that what we think is dumb . . . them being dramatic . . . it’s real to them. If they feel like they have a reason to walk away from us and we don’t chase them, our loss is a hundred percent on our shoulders.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” My question came out harsher than I intended and I felt ashamed at my shortness with him, but he pretended not to notice.

  “Just filling the silence, I guess.” He leaned back in the chair, widening his legs in a relaxed pose. “Her birthday is coming up.”

  “I know.” Christmas Eve. Two weeks away. I tried not to think about it if I could help it and Lotus had been successful at distracting me for a time, stealing all my moments, not giving me a chance to ponder the would have, could have, should haves.

  “Do you love her?” he asked.

  “You know I will always love her.”

  He breathed deep, sounding exasperated. “I wasn’t talking about Alexa. I have no doubt in my mind that you loved Alex, everyone knew it. I’m talking about the girl from earlier, because even if I’m deaf, and didn’t hear a damn bit of your little tiff this afternoon, I would still know that she loved you. From the moment you opened that door, that girl’s eyes glowed with love. So, do you love her?”

  “It’s more complicated than that, Phil, and you know it. Alex and I . . .”

  “Alex and you are not an issue. You’ve done your time, you’ve mourned your loss and now it’s time to move on. It may be with this girl, it may be with another, but you can’t let life stop because you are scared to live. She was sick, Beckett. We all knew it, but you can’t force assistance on people who don’t want to be helped. She chose to leave us and you can’t continue to spend your life afraid to move forward because you once got left behind. That’s not really living.”

  Phil took one last drink from the bottle and handed it back to me before slowly getting off his chair and stretching his arms over his head, cracking and popping his joints. He laid a hand on my
shoulder and gave it a squeeze before adding a couple pats and walking back toward the french doors that led inside. Right as he touched the handle, he stopped and turned back toward me.

  “Do you love her? Think on that, and think on that hard because the girl loves you and she doesn’t deserve games, Beckett. No one does. Think on it, and if she truly means to you what I suspect she does, then you need to tell her and you need to tell her soon because a girl like that, she won’t wait around forever, you know.” I heard the knob scrape as he turned it and the hinge squeak slightly right before the door clicked shut, and I was alone again, under the stars, left with my own bitter denials and not-so-sacred truths.

  I sat alone in the dark for another few hours, pondering what Phil said and secretly hoping Lotus would call. I needed to hear her voice more than I needed my next meal. It was substantial. It gave me hope, fueled my life force in the most alluring and delicious way.

  She didn’t call.

  I stared at our picture together from the night before, trying to draw strength.

  It didn’t help.

  I tried to tell myself it was fine. We were only friends and I could manage a few days without her until she realized she needed me too. But as I closed the door to my bedroom, our bedroom, the smell of roses, courtesy of her overpriced lotion, assaulted my senses. The sight of her floral silk robe filled my vision and I decided this might be harder than I thought. I may have spent every night for almost two months sharing my bed, but I had to remind myself that prior to that I had spent more than two years alone and I could do this. I could sleep solo.

  But as I pulled back the covers and climbed inside, I prepared myself for a fitful night of sleep because my mind knew she was gone, but my heart didn't quite understand and it wanted her. It wanted her here, next to me so I could breathe in her fresh scent and feel her skin nestled snuggly against mine. It wanted her hair to tickle my chin and her finger to draw slow circles over my forearm as I held her tight. It wanted me to throw caution to the wind, hunt her down and throw her over my shoulder like a caveman taking his woman back to his cave. Our cave. To be mine.

 

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