by Portia Moore
My disorder would always have made Ian’s life harder. But if it was just the two of us, I could believe that we could handle it. But the complication of children will make it impossible. And, I love him too much to do that to him—too much to ask him to give up what he so clearly wants…a family.
I’m not enough.
I could never be enough. I’m only half of a person, and Ian deserves so much more than that.
He deserves everything.
I make my decision as I stand here in the shower, the hot water beating down on my scalp and rolling down my face with my tears.
I have to leave him.
I would destroy him eventually, and it seems as if it will be sooner rather than later. I don’t know how much longer I can hold Megan off, and I can’t do this to him. Better that he hates me, thinks I’ve left him of my own accord, so he can move on. So he can have all of the things he wants in life.
I finally get out, drying off and putting my wet hair up in a bun, and I throw on a pair of skinny jeans and a black t-shirt. I grin at Ian as I walk out to meet him, shoving all of the pain and fear and despair I’ve felt in the last half hour as far down as I can. “Hurry up and get ready,” I tell him, kissing him softly, with all of the love and passion that I feel for him. I don’t have many of these kisses left, so I want every last one of them to count. “I’m starving,” I whisper against his lips, and he pulls me closer, squeezing my waist and breathing out slowly, as if he’s relieved.
He takes a quick shower then we go to a nearby bar and grill that we frequent. I order an extra-large plate of barbecue wings and curly fries for us to split, and sit with my back against the side of the booth, my feet in his lap pressed up against his dick. I can feel him getting hard a few minutes after I touch him, my toes wriggling playfully against him, and I marvel all over again at how much he wants me. Anytime we’re together, he’s almost always ready to go. I’ll miss that—being desired. Having someone who wants me, not just for sex, but for intimacy as well as lust. I see him glance towards the bathroom, and I consider it, but a moment later he seems to change his mind and throws a fry at me.
I swat it away, grinning at him playfully. But I have things I have to talk to him about, before it’s too late. I clear my throat, looking at him with a soft smile. “Babe, I want you to promise me that you’re really going to pursue photography,” I say firmly, fixing my eyes on his. He frowns.
“I am,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “We agreed on this.” He shifts my feet so they’re pressing more firmly against his half-hard dick, and I smirk, but pull them away as he groans with frustration.
“I’m serious,” I tell him. “Whatever happens, you have to promise me you’ll give it everything you have.” My tone is almost pleading, and he looks at me closely. I can feel my smile falter. He looks irritated. I didn’t want to piss him off, but I have to know that he’s going to do the things we planned, even if I’m not there to do them with him.
“What the hell are you talking about, Alana?” he asks, clearly annoyed now.
I roll my eyes. Leave it to Ian to not want to get serious. I know he hates when I get into these moods, but it’s important. “Nothing, okay?” I snap, reaching for a fry.
“No, it’s not nothing,” he says, exasperated. “What’s up?”
“Nothing, Ian, Jesus!” I laugh shortly, gulping down the rest of my beer, and as he narrows his eyes at me I grin at him flirtatiously, licking my lips and putting my feet back up into his lap. He looks at me for a long moment, but doesn’t press the issue. Soon the conversation turns to places I want to go on our road trip, and somehow I make it through the conversation as if it’s really going to happen, as if everything is going to continue as planned. I even feel excited, though I know better, and I think wistfully of what it would be like if our life could really be the way we wanted it. If things didn’t have to change. I try to hold on to those thoughts; it’s the only thing that keeps me from bursting into tears in front of him.
He slides his hand comfortingly into my back pocket as we walk home, and I hold onto his arm, wanting to feel the solidity of him next to me for as long as I can. I want to remember this.
I watch him undress as we get ready for bed, sliding naked under the sheets the way he always does, me in my t-shirt and panties. He pulls me close, his face in my neck, breathing me in, and it’s not long before his hand is sliding under the edge of my panties, his fingers toying with me as I whimper. He strokes me slowly, his fingers sliding around my clit, over it and inside of me and back up again, in the patterns that he knows will bring me over the edge in a matter of minutes. I let him get me close to orgasm, right up to the point where the small muscles in my thighs are trembling and I can feel my back arching, and then I push him onto his back, stripping off my clothes as I straddle him and slide down onto his rock-hard dick. I roll my hips deliberately, going as slowly as I can, wanting to feel every inch of him inside of me, imprinting it on my memories.
He grabs my hips, about to roll me over the way he always does, but I growl “No,” reaching for his hands and pinning them over his head. I lean over him, biting and sucking at his neck, and I feel him get even harder inside of me as I move at that same slow, deliberate pace, feeling every throb and movement that he makes. I kiss his lips, his neck, his chest, and he pulls his hands free, burying them in my hair and pulling my mouth to his. Our tongues intertwine delicately, and it’s slow and intense, more so than it’s ever been. We’ve had sex, fucked, made love and everything in between, but this is more intimate than anything we’ve ever done, anything I’ve ever felt. I feel as though I might burst with how much I love him, how much I want him, as if I can’t contain all of it. I want to melt into him, to stay with him forever, to keep him a part of me.
“I love you, Ian, I love you so fucking much,” I whisper in his ear, and he wraps his arms around me, rolling me onto my back as he slides into me as deeply as he can go, claiming me with each deep, slow thrust.
“You’re it for me, babe, it’s just us,” he whispers, and I feel the orgasm start to roll over me like a slow wave, consuming me this time instead of crashing over me, and I shake in his arms as he holds me close to him, throbbing inside of me as he comes too, my body holding onto him as tightly as it can as the climax washes over us both.
He stays inside of me as we stay intertwined, my head on his shoulder as he starts to fall asleep. “I love you, baby,” I whisper, feeling his body still close to mine as we start to drift off.
“I love you too,” I hear him say, just before he falls asleep.
I lay there for a long time, soaking in the sensation of his skin against mine, the scent of him, the warmth of his body surrounding me. And then, when he’s deeply asleep enough that he’s rolled over away from me, I climb out of bed and walk into the living room. I text Blue if it’s okay that I come over, and he texts back less than five minutes later telling me it’s okay. I can barely breath as tears choke my throat as I grab a notebook and a pen. I’m trembling as I think about what I’m doing.
With each stroke of the pen, each word, I see the future that we planned together vaporizing and drifting away, and I let it go as best as I can, feeling the grief consume me.
I always told you I’m not perfect. I told you when
we first met that I’m fucked, so unbelievably messed up,
but you never look at me like that, you’ve never made me
feel less than that, and it has always scared me because I
knew a time would come when you’d realize not only am I
not perfect but I’m a disaster. I want to be so much more
for you, I swear to God I do, but yesterday I realized I
can’t. I wish I could. I want you to know that this is not your
fault. There’s nothing you could do or say that would make
this different so don’t you fucking dare blame yourself for
this. It will kill me knowing you do. This is me, totally me. I
<
br /> always hated the hand I’ve gotten dealt in this life. I hated
God, the universe, or whoever for the things that happened
to me. Then I met you and you made up for every bad thing
I’ve ever experienced. You’ve been my good and I wish to
God I could be yours. You deserve what you give me and I
can’t give you what you deserve and I love you too much
to take that away. I know you’re hating me right now and I
want you to. I’d rather have your hate than be the cause of
your pain, your devastation…which I’ll end up being. I’m so
sorry for being selfish and for not walking away the day
you asked for my number. For trying to hold on to you
because I love you so much. But I love you too much to
destroy you and I will if I don’t leave now. I’ve always been
good at running and even better at hiding so don’t look for
me, you won’t find me. You can have our marriage
annulled, I won’t fight it. You can move on and please be
happy. Go on the trip, forget about me, become the
famous photographer I know you can be, you promised.
You are the greatest human being I’ve ever met and I will
never ever forget you. You’ll be in my thoughts every
second of the day, but don’t allow me to be in yours.
I love you more than you could ever know.
Alana.
I was crazy to believe that we could ever have any of the things I wanted. But at least we had a few perfect months, a brief time where I knew what it was like to be loved, to be wanted, and to give that back.
He’ll always be the love of my life, no matter what.
I slide the note inside of an envelope and leave it on the coffee table. I pick up my bag and walk to the bedroom door, taking one last look at Ian’s peaceful, sleeping face, tangled in the sheets that only a little while ago were wrapped around us while we made love.
And I’m thankful that will be my last memory of us.
I manage to get my emotions together just as I arrive at Blue’s apartment. Blue just moved to Indiana to start school. It’s about an hour drive with no traffic which gave me enough time to try to pull it together. I have to be strong. I can’t be a mess or fall apart. It will only make this harder. And it’s already hard enough.
He lets me in as soon as I knock, and I can see him taking in my pale, shaky appearance. “You look like you need a drink,” he says quietly, gesturing for me to follow him into his apartment.
I sink down on the edge of his old sofa. “Yeah, I could use a drink.”
He reappears after a moment with two glasses, a couple of shots of vodka in each. I’ve never been a vodka girl but right now I’d drink just about anything. I’m almost looking forward to letting Megan take over again, just so this will stop. I have never ever felt like this before—distraught, hollow, weak. All I can think about is the moment when Ian will wake up in the morning and find me gone. The thought of what he is going to feel is worse than walking away from him.
I try not to think about it but it’s inevitable and it’s for the best; I keep telling myself this repeatedly as I throw back the vodka and peer over at Blue, my lips pressed tightly together.
“What happened?” Blue asks, giving me a second to gather myself before sitting opposite me on the edge of the coffee table, his eyes narrowed.
“I left him,” I whisper, clutching the glass. He looks at me skeptically and then his eyes go wide as he realizes what I just told him.
“What? What the fuck, Alana!” His voice is raised but low, as if raising it too high might break me...and it just might.
I don’t respond. I can’t say anything right now.
“You said you were going to tell him the truth.”
“I wanted to,” I say weakly. I really need this vodka to start doing its job.
“Wanted to? Why didn’t you?” Blue runs his hand through his hair.
“Ally, this is going to kill him. You love him, I know you do. So why? I thought Dexter could help you.”
“I thought maybe he could too.” I chew on my lower lip, shaking my head. “Ian wants kids, Blue. Not right this second…but soon. I can’t give him that. Not like this...”
“Didn’t you talk about this before you got married?” Blue asks, perplexed.
“We did,” I snap, glaring at him.
“And you told him you didn’t?”
“No, I said I did, because I do. I did.” I grit my teeth. “But I thought we were just fantasizing, you know, talking about what we would do if our lives were different. I thought in reality we weren’t the kind of people who have kids. But Ian is. And I would be, if I wasn’t…well…you know I can’t. It’d be impossible.”
“You really want kids?” Blue asks, almost skeptical.
“Oh don’t look so fucking shocked.” I glare at him again. “It doesn’t matter, because it’s not going to happen. It can’t. So I left Ian. He’s going to hate me, and I want him to. I need him to move on. Get with a nice normal girl who can marry him and give him a family. He’ll forget about me eventually.”
Blue shakes his head. “You know, I really thought you knew Ian, but I’m starting to wonder. If you think he’s just going to go off and live some happily-ever-after, you’re out of your mind. He never wanted the happily-ever-after before you. I didn’t think he’d ever settle down. Do you know how many women he’s fucked?”
“I can guess,” I snap, looking away. “But I don’t want to know, so don’t tell me.”
He softens a little, leaning towards me. “Alana, you need to just talk to him.”
“I need you to call Dexter,” I say, still not looking at him. “I need a lawyer to draw up divorce papers and send them to Ian. I’ll sign everything I need to in order to make it simple and easy, no fuss. I don’t want to screw up his life more than I already have.”
I see Blue rub a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this, Alana? You haven’t even given Ian a chance. He deserves the truth. He’s your fucking husband!”
“I won’t put him through a forever with me. I know Ian would stay with me and that’s the problem. He shouldn’t have to. He deserves better,” I mumble. “I’ve made my decision. Please, Blue, just help me.” I look up at him then, and whatever he sees in my face makes him stop short just as he’s about to argue with me some more.
“You’re my friend,” he says quietly. “And hell, since you married Ian, you’re family. I don’t agree with this but I’ll do what I can to help you.”
I manage a small smile, but it’s hard. “Can I have another drink?”
“Yeah.” Blue goes into the kitchen and returns with the bottle, pouring another shot for us both. “What’s Megan like?” he asks, tapping the edge of his glass against mine.
I shrug, taking a deep swallow of the vodka. It burns all the way down, but I’m glad for it. “Different. A lot different than me. She cares about what people think of her. She wants to do good but just lets everything happen to her without making things happen for herself.”
“Is she anything like you? Is there something you guys could have common ground on?” Dexter’s words flash through my thoughts and it makes me angry.
“She’s not,” I say, the words clipped and harsh. “She isn’t me. That’s the problem. It’s why things with Ian could never work. One day she’d show up and try to have what’s mine. My life, the happily-ever-after that I tried for. My money, my success, my husband. And I won’t let her have that. She can’t have him.”
“But neither will you,” Blue points out.
I just look away, taking another swallow of the vodka. “Besides, Ian isn’t her type. Megan’s looking for a Prince Charming to come save her. Ian isn’t exactly that.” I chortle.
“But she is you,” he counters. I roll my eyes.
&nbs
p; “She’s something like that but not.”
“You care about her,” he adds.
“I care about myself. Sustaining what I’ve worked so hard to protect, it’s almost an obligation now. Sort of like taking care of your parents when they get old even though they were kind of shitty,” I explain. He lets out a laugh but it’s mirthless.
“How can I help you?” Blue says, his voice softer than I’m used to. “I know you don’t see yourself as her but she’ll be a version of you to me and I want to make sure she’s okay.”
I bite my lip and start to feel a whole other kind of emotion I’ve never felt; it wavers between sadness and peace.
“I’ve been thinking that. I can enroll at your school. Megan’s grades and our shitty as fuck background should be good enough to get in I think.”
It’s hard for me to get the words out. I don’t want to share these things with Megan. For all of my existence, I’ve had to struggle with her to have anything of my own. I’ve always come second, I’ve always had the scraps of what I can dig up for myself, while Megan gets the real life. And now she’s going to have my only friend.
But it will help her. No matter how I feel, she’s a part of me, and I’ve always tried to protect her. If I’m going to be gone, Blue will be the last bridge between the two of us. I just hope that she’ll accept him as a friend. He isn’t exactly the kind of person Megan would usually gravitate towards, or trust. But I hope that maybe she can see past the edgy exterior and sense that he’s good. She’s never been the best judge of character.
“So what’s next, you leave everything in Chicago and move to Indiana?” Blue frowns, swirling the vodka in his glass. “Yes.” I nod. “She’s always lived in Indiana…” He looks at me in disbelief.
