It will forever be with us.
Chapter Seventeen
Addison
It’s funny how time moves.
It crawled along for years before and after Tyler came into my life. Each day’s only purpose was to be a box on a calendar I could cross off with a deep red marker. If I bothered to even count.
But the days with Tyler, when I was really with him? They flew by. Because time is quite like fate, it’s a bitch.
And the same thing happened with Daniel. The days were whirlwinds of moments that made me feel like everything was alright. Like it was okay to simply live in his bed and sleep in his arms. Like the selfishness of ignoring everything else was how life is supposed to go.
But the past few days without him … it’s been worse than the slowest pain. There’s a coldness that feels like it’s just below the surface of my skin. As if my blood refuses to heat. And the nights are filled with memories designed to play on my weakest moments.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
My focus is shifted to the front door of my apartment as I sit cross-legged on my sofa with my laptop cradled on me. The screen’s gone black and I don’t know how long it’s been like that.
He knocks again. There’s only one person it could be. Daniel.
Every day and night since we last talked I’ve thought about him. And about what I need to do. Each text he sends is met with a short response that makes the pain in my chest grow.
I’m no longer in denial. It’s time to move on. That means moving on from everything, including Daniel. And that hurts. But it’s supposed to.
My neck is killing me from bending over the computer for hours. I have a standing desk; I should really use it, but I don’t. I spend hours a day sitting on the sofa with my computer in my lap while I Photoshop my pictures. There are at least three dozen more I want to edit and post before going out and searching for my next muse. Although I don’t know if I’ll find it here. Maybe it’s time to move on already.
My sore body aches all over when I stand, but that pain is temporary, so I don’t mind it.
Each step to the front door makes me feel like I’m running in the opposite direction from where I was going days ago. I’ve come to the only logical decision there is and I’ve never liked breaking up with anyone. The way Daniel made me feel is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Wild and crazy, I suppose. Thanks to the late night sex and not caring about anything, not even our next breath so long as our skin was touching and our desires seeking out refuge in each other.
Pausing with my hand on the doorknob, I let out a deep breath. He’ll understand. He’s probably here to do the same. This thing between us could never last.
I feel like I’m being stabbed in the heart, but the moment the door is opened, the pain dims and that other feeling, that fluttering sickness I have trouble describing takes its place. The kind of pain that I want more of, but it scares me.
“Daniel.” I whisper his name as his dark eyes meet mine and then soften. His leather jacket creases as he puts his hand on the doorframe and leans in slightly.
“You still mad at me?” he asks with a deep timbre to his voice that speaks to vulnerability and I answer him honestly, shaking my head.
“I’m not mad at you.” Forgiving others is easy. It’s forgiving myself that’s hard.
Daniel lets out a breath and starts to come in, but I can’t do this. It’s better to stop it now and not do the easier thing. Which would be to fall back into bed with him and numb the pain with his touch.
It’s not healthy.
My palm hits his chest and his expression turns to confusion, but he stops just outside the threshold.
“I’ve been thinking,” I start to tell Daniel and he tilts his head, his eyes narrowing.
“This sounds like the we have to talk conversation.” There’s a trace of a threat in his voice.
“It kind of is,” I say softly and the pain in my heart grows. “I’ve just been thinking about every way this is going to end.”
“End?” he asks incredulously, moving forward and closing the distance between us. He’s standing on the threshold now.
It’s hard to speak, but I have to be honest with myself and him. I have to protect myself.
“I’m not sure we should do this at all.”
Stunned is how I’d describe the look on Daniel’s face, and it surprises me. “It doesn’t make sense for us to continue this-”
“You don’t want me?” Daniel asks, cutting me off in a voice devoid of anything but sadness. I’ve never heard the sound from his lips before. The tone pains my heart in a way nothing else ever will. I know it for a fact. Some things simply break a piece of you that can never be mended.
“That’s not what I meant. Not at all. I didn’t anticipate this happening,” I try to explain. What I thought would be a simple conversation ending with Daniel leaving me behind escalates to something I hadn’t anticipated. “I didn’t think you would care.” My words come out rushed.
“You thought I wouldn’t care that you’re done with me?”
“I’m not done … I could never be done with you. But this,” I gesture between us, “this is something I know is going to hurt me. And both of us know will never last.”
“I’m not Tyler. That’s why?” Daniel’s words should be cutting. They should hurt me. But I only hurt for him. How could he think that?
I have to swallow hard before I can tell him, “I want you.” I almost say Tyler’s name. I almost tell him how I wanted the love Tyler gave me and how I wanted to love Tyler back but never did. But I can’t. I can’t bring him into this. “It’s not that at all, Daniel. I’ve wanted you for the longest time and I hated myself for it. We can’t even have a simple conversation about anything before…“ I swallow hard, the lump in my throat refusing to let any more words pass.
“You hate yourself for wanting me?” The sadness is gone and anger quickly takes its place. Suddenly I’m suffocating, finding myself taking a step back and then another although he stays in the doorway, radiating a dominance barely self-contained.
“You’re scaring me,” I whisper and Daniel flinches. The emotions cycle through him one by one. The anger, the shock, the frustration from not knowing what to do.
And I’ve felt them all, I’ve also suffered the torture of not knowing what to do for so long. Every day that I felt loved by Tyler but knew I loved Daniel more. I know his pain as if it was my own. But there’s no way to make this right. And the sooner this is over, the better.
“I want you Daniel, but it’s wrong.”
“It’s not wrong,” he says and his words come out strangled, his breathing heavier. He almost takes a step forward and then stops himself, gripping the edge of the doorframe and lowering his head, hanging it in shame. I’m reminded of the day I first met him and that makes the agony that much worse. “I don’t know how to …” he trails off and swallows thickly.
“There’s no way this is going to be more than … than what we were doing.”
His head whips up and his dark eyes pin me in place. Daniel’s always been intense, always been dangerous. For others, I’m sure it’s similar. But they’ll never feel this. Not the way I feel for Daniel.