The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1)

by Martin, R. C.

  “Morning, boys.”

  “You look a little tired, Ave,” I comment, looking between her and Gray. Her eyes flicker to meet his and then her gaze finds mine once more and I know, without a word, that Grayson sought sanctuary in their apartment last night. She shrugs, offering me a tired smile as she nods for us to step inside.

  “We’ll be ready to go in just a second,” she says through a yawn as she heads back to her room.

  I shut us inside before I smack the back of my hand against Grayson’s chest. “You two drive me insane,” I mutter, sliding my hand into my pocket.

  “What was that for?”

  Usually, Grayson and Avery make me laugh. It’s obvious to everyone that they are head-over-heels in love with each other and yet neither of them will make a move. Today, knowing that my relationship with Addison is about to change in ways I can’t even really imagine, I’m infuriated that Gray and Ave are avoiding a relationship and taking for granted the unique gift that they have in each other.

  “One day, some guy is going to swoop in and sweep her right up from underneath your nose and you’re not going to know what hit you. On that day, I’m going to say I told you so,” I bite.

  “Geez, what stick’s up your butt?” he mutters, taking a step away from me.

  I exhale loudly, recognizing that I shouldn’t lash out at him. He’s not my problem. “Sorry,” I mumble as Addison emerges from her room. Just the sight of her makes me feel a thousand times better, and a million times worse. She looks beautiful in the sleeveless dress she’s wearing. It’s belted at the waist and stops just above her knees. It’s yellow, a color she pulls off impressively, and the contrast between the dress and her shiny black hair, which hangs at her shoulders, is stunning. I wish she didn't look so good; it makes me more irritable.

  “Hey, Gray. Morning, love,” she greets me with a smile. She pads her way across the room in her bare feet, her brown heels dangling from her fingers. She doesn’t stop until she’s in my arms. I hold her tightly against me, lifting her from her feet so that I might feel the length of her body pressed against mine. I breathe her in, relishing the smell of her fruity shampoo as I press a kiss against her temple.

  “Hey, baby.”

  “Watch out, he’s grumpy this morning,” Grayson warns her.

  “Oh, yeah?” she responds, pulling away just enough to look into my eyes—which isn’t much, considering I’m not ready to let her go just yet. “I bet I can cheer him up,” she says with a smirk before her mouth finds mine.

  Grayson groans as we kiss and calls for Sarah and Avery. I ignore him, needing this moment like the air that I breathe.

  “None of that. Time for church.” Avery smacks Addison’s backside, which elicits a small shriek that pulls her lips away from mine. It’s her laugh that follows that helps squash my disappointment in our separation. I set her down, so she can slip her feet into her shoes, which she does while holding my hand. She doesn’t let me go until we climb into my car.

  Pastor Doug’s message does two things: it fills me the conviction that today is the day—the day I have to talk to Addison; it also makes me want to punch him in the face.

  Having been gone the week before, attending my parents church back home, I forgot that he’s in the middle of a relationship series. I guess I missed the safe sermon that revolved around friendships. This week was about dating relationships. Next week is going to be about marriage relationships. I’m already considering skipping out on that message entirely. Yet, I know in my gut, it will be exactly what I need to hear—just like today’s message was exactly what God wanted me to hear.

  Pastor Doug touched on the dos and don’ts of dating, as anyone would expect. He also went on and on and on about the benefits of finding yourself, working on yourself, improving yourself, preparing yourself and so on and so forth while you’re single—because in the process of doing those things, you become the person your future spouse is waiting for; he honed in on that point, explaining that working on yourself yields better relationship results than constantly picking, judging, or comparing the person you’re with to the dream of the ideal man or woman you want to marry. While that’s not really my problem, as I already know that I don’t want anyone other than Addison—beautifully flawed and imperfectly perfect as she is—I don’t doubt for a second that someone was trying to get my attention all morning long.

  Lunch plans are made, but I’m too distracted to pay attention to either suggestions or decisions. Addie pulls me from my thoughts as she caresses my cheek with her hand. When my eyes meet hers, I want to scream or pull her into my lap and kiss her senseless—but I do neither.

  “Are you okay?” she murmurs, worry tugging at her brow.

  “No,” I answer honestly. “I need to get out of here. I want to go home. Will you come with me?”

  “Of course. Um—one sec.” I’m vaguely aware of her efforts to ensure that Sarah, Grayson, and Avery all have rides to lunch and then back home before she takes my hand, signaling that she’s ready to go. Addie knows me well and she doesn’t ask me to explain myself as we make our way to my vehicle and then drive in silence back to our apartment. Without a word, she follows me as I lead her back to her place—where I know we’ll be uninterrupted.

  She shuts us inside and I’m so nervous and beside myself that I feel like my knees might give out, so I head straight for the couch and sit. She starts to sit in the space beside me, but I stop her, pulling her into my lap. I need her close to me. I can hardly believe this is happening—that I’m about to break up with her—and if I don’t have the weight of her pressing against me, I might not be able to believe this is real.

  I run my hands along the soft skin of her arms and graze my fingertips down her sides and then up and around her back. I tangle my fingers in her hair, and every texture that I feel keeps me with her for another moment.

  “Beckham…” She speaks softly, but the sound of my name from her lips shatters me. The tears come without warning and I crush her against me, burying my face in her neck as I let my cries ravage me.

  I gasp as a sob erupts from his throat and he clings to me. My arms wrap around him in an instant and I hold him as tightly as I can, rubbing my hands around his back and up his neck in an attempt to soothe him. He squeezes me in reply and I can barely breathe; but I can’t tell if it’s because he’s holding me too close or if it’s because I’m frightened and confused.

  “Beckham, babe, talk to me. What’s wrong?” It takes him another minute to gather himself, but when he pulls away to look me in the eyes, I know something is terribly wrong. “You’re scaring me. You have to say something.”

  “I’ve been thinking—thinking about us,” he manages.

  I wasn’t expecting that. My heart skips a beat.

  “I’ve been thinking about us and marriage and how you deserve to be with someone who is ready to promise you forever and…” His voice trails off and my heart skips another beat. “…I’m not him,” he whispers.

  For a second, I can’t breathe. I could not have heard what I think I just heard. “What?” I squeak.

  “Addison, I think we need to take a break for a while.”

  I gasp and recoil at his words. I’m hearing things. I must be hearing things. There is no way that he’s breaking up with me right now. That’s not what he said. It can’t possibly be what he said. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—“What?” I ask again, sure that I’ll hear something different.

  A renegade tear spills from his eye and races down his cheek as he speaks. “I think we need to break up for a while.”

  This time, I hear him—this time, I know I’m not imagining things. This time, his words hit their mark and I no longer have control over my body. “What?!” I stammer as my vision blurs and my eyes fill with tears. “What?!” I cry, unable to find any other words as I ball my hands into fists. “WHAT?!” I scream as I push him away from me. He wraps his arms around me and his strong hold makes it impossible to wiggle out of his grasp.
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  “Addie—Addison, stop. Baby—stop!”

  “What is happening? What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that I need a break. I need some space. I—”

  I cut him off, slapping both of my hands over his mouth. “No. The answer is no.” I shake my head at him so violently that my tears are being thrown from my eyes.

  He gently pries my fingers away from his face and the look he gives me in the process makes me realize that I don’t have a choice. “I’m not asking, baby.”

  I’m trembling from head to toe. My mind is reeling. I don’t understand. I can’t understand. Three hours ago he was kissing me in my doorway and now—“More words,” I demand. “Use more words.”

  “I love you,” he whispers as he runs his knuckles down my check.

  “Then why are you saying these things? Why are you trying to break up with me? Oh, God—what is happening?” I sob, his words becoming more real as I repeat them myself.

  “Listen, listen to me—Addison,” he grips my chin between his fingers and positions my face so that I have nowhere to look but into his eyes. “I love you, so much. You know that I love you—but this version of me…I can’t marry you.”

  “That’s not true. Beckham, that’s not true! You promised—you promised!” I’m yelling, but I can’t help it. He needs to hear me.

  “I know, I know! And I’m trying to keep my promise, can’t you see?”

  “No! No, I don’t. I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not ready. I’m never going to be ready if you don’t let me go. I have to figure some things out, I have to—”

  “What things? What things, Beckham?” I can feel my state of shock morphing into panic.

  “I don’t know!” he erupts. “That’s my point!” He lifts me from his lap, placing me on the couch before he stands, raking his fingers through his hair. I was desperate to get out of his grasp earlier, but now the absence of him seems devastating. “Addison,” he continues as he paces in front of me. “I don’t want to do this. Do you think I want to do this? It’s killing me to do this. But I have to do life alone for a while. I have to figure out who I am and what I’m capable of without you.”

  “We’re supposed to be spending the rest of our lives together—how could you possibly benefit from figuring out who you are without me?” I plead.

  “I don’t remember life before you,” he says, stopping to look me square in the face. “I practically grew up as your boyfriend. I’ve never done anything without you—I’ve never experienced any other relationship than ours—”

  “Hold on a second,” I mutter as I stand. “Are you trying to tell me that you want to see other people?” For a moment, my tears come to a screeching halt as a ripple of rage overwhelms me.

  “No!” he cries, aghast.

  “You can’t just throw this at me, Beckham!” I shout with a push. He doesn’t budge, but it feels good to hurl myself at him—my words not expressing enough—and so I do it again. “You can’t just walk away from me!”

  “I’m doing this for you,” he insists, grabbing hold of my arms to stop my assault. His grip keeps my arms pinned to my sides. “I’m doing this for you,” he repeats, softly.

  “I don’t want to break up—I don’t want to be without you. So, no, you can’t possibly be doing this for me.”

  “I want to marry you,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Then just ask me.”

  “I. Can’t.”

  “Why not?” I sob.

  His hands fall away from me and his shoulders slump in defeat. “Because I’m not man enough.”

  “Says who?” I ask, wrapping my arms around him. “I don’t believe that.”

  “Says me.” He heaves a heavy sigh as he slides his fingers up his nose, pushing up his glasses as he squeezes the ridge between his eyes. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he mutters as he closes his eyes. “It’s just…who I am right now is incapable of marrying you; I’m incapable of being the husband that you deserve—but I want to be him, the man worthy of you.”

  “This isn’t fair,” I whimper. “Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?”

  He shakes his head as he drops his hand and opens his eyes to look down into mine. “Apparently not.”

  Suddenly I’m feeling incredibly stubborn and I pull away from him. For a second, I recognize that this whole situation has me going insane—my brain and my heart tossing out a different emotion every other second. I feel completely out of control, but I can’t reign any of it in. My world seems to be crashing in on itself and I’m powerless to stop it. That doesn’t mean I’m going to stop fighting, though.

  “I can’t accept this. I won’t.”

  “Addie, it’s my decision and I’ve made it.”

  His resolute tone leaves me feeling deflated and I’m instantly an incoherent ball of tears. I curl up on the couch, pulling my knees against my chest as I surrender to my sobs. I still can’t believe this is happening—this is worse than my worst nightmare because I never imagined, in my wildest dreams, that this would ever happen.

  I feel the couch dip beside me as he sits and gravity begs me to fall into his arms, but I refuse. When he places a hand on my arm, I shrink away from his touch and shake my head at him to emphasize my reproach. “If you love me so much, I don’t know how you can ask me to accept this—I don’t know how you could accept this yourself! I don’t want anyone but you—just the way that you are—and I’ve never heard you say that you need to be more; you’ve never even hinted that we needed a break for you to figure anything out—you just asked me to wait for you, and that’s what I’ve been doing.”

  “I know. I never considered this as an option until a week ago. From the moment the idea was planted in my head, I haven’t been able to shake it. Addison—” he leans toward me, resting his forehead against mine as he runs a hand along the length of my hair. “—this isn’t easy for me either. The last thing I want is to lose you,” he whispers.

  His words tug at my heart and I uncoil myself and crawl into his lap, straddling him as I push his glasses up onto his head. “I’m right here, Beckham,” I breathe. “You won’t lose me if you don’t push me away. I’m right here.” My words get lost in his mouth as I press mine against his. He responds instantly, clutching me against him as we kiss each other desperately. I taste the salt from my tears—tears that I want to forget in this moment; but when I reach up to cup my hands around his face, I realize that his cheeks are once again covered in his own tears and my heart breaks. I pull my mouth away from his and we stare at each other as we try and regain control of our breathing.

  “Addison Jane—I want to promise you the world, but I’m not equipped to do that right now. I’m not proposing that we break up forever…just for a while.”

  When my tears come back, I realize I can’t take anymore of this emotional whiplash. I pull away from him and stand to my feet as I blow out a slow breath to try and gather myself long enough to say what I have to say. “I can’t do this right now. This is too much too fast. You get that right?” I don’t give him a chance to respond. “I need you to leave.”

  “What, now?” He's surprised by my request. The idea makes me want to scoff—but if I loosen the muscles of my throat, a scoff won't be what comes out.

  “Yes. Please. Just go.”

  “Addie…”

  I choke back a sob as I cling to the fabric of my dress. “Go—just go!”

  He stands but doesn’t leave right away. Just when I think I’m going to have to beg him some more, he kisses the top of my head and leaves me by myself. When I hear the click of the door closing behind him, I crumble once more.

  As I stretch out on the couch, his absence consumes me. I know that I was the one who asked him to leave, but the reality of his desire to sever the ties of our relationship takes on a whole new meaning now that I’m all alone. I don’t care about his reasons, I can’t cling to his promises; all I can do is imagine a world where we aren’t together and it cr
ushes me.

  I weep until my body aches.

  The lunch crowd is smaller than usual today, with so many students already gone for the summer, but the group of us that gather have a blast. There’s lots of jokes, laughter, and light hearted conversation and I attribute our glee to the fact that we’ve all managed to survive our finals. Sonny is my lunch companion, occupying the seat beside me, and while we frequently get caught up in different discussions, I can’t deny how much I enjoy simply being near him. When it’s time to head home, we’re split up as we hop into separate vehicles—Sarah and I catching a ride together while Sonny snags the last available seat in a different carpool.

  As Sarah and I ascend the steps up to our apartment, she cracks a joke that has me laughing so hard my side hurts. I’m not sure if what she’s said warrants this amount of laughter, or if I’m delirious from lack of sleep. I was up half the night with Grayson playing Skip-Bo while Jackson and Claire celebrated their engagement. I’m a firm believer that sex should come after marriage. However, I don’t judge the two of them for giving into their physical desires; especially not when their love making has Grayson texting me at midnight asking if I’m up for a game of cards.

  Sarah opens the door as I come down from my laughing fit and stops abruptly after crossing the threshold. I run right into her, unprepared for the traffic jam. The goddess before me is wearing a pair of heels, making it impossible for me to see what it is that has stopped her in her tracks, so I rest my hands against her hips and peek around her body.

  All of a sudden, I’m not the least bit tired anymore.

  “AJ?” I call out, brushing past Sarah as I rush to kneel before my sister. She’s curled up in the fetal position on the couch, her cheek resting in a pool of tears—it honestly looks like she spilt a glass of water on the fabric and then laid her head down to rest. I reach out and run my fingers through her hair, needing to touch her—to comfort her. “AJ?” She doesn’t move or make a sound; instead, she continues to stare into space as silent tears trickle their way over her nose and down her cheek.