With pillows under our heads, we lie on our sides, our legs twining together, our eyes fixed on each other. Trey lifts his hand and brushes my hair behind my ear. “What’s going on, sweet girl? And don’t tell me it’s the pie, because I know that’s not true.”
He knows me too damn well. I should be happy but instead, I’m a little annoyed and for good reason, because the last thing I want to do right now is talk to Trey about my feelings. How would I go about that? Do I tell him I’ve been living next to my first love, and now I’m caught in my mind, confused about what he means to me?
Doesn’t seem like a winning conversation to have the first few minutes we’re back together, or ever for that matter. Trey doesn’t need to know about Aaron. I think it will only hurt him, especially since I won’t do anything about those feelings.
Honesty isn’t on the tip of my tongue. There is so much I should want to talk to Trey about, but I’m emotionally and physically spent.
“My dad had a bad day.” This isn’t a lie. When I left the nursing home earlier, I carried a heavy heart out the door. It seems like every time I go visit him, he’s having a bad day. I’m not sure if he doesn’t recognize me or if he’s so confused he doesn’t want to speak at all. The thought of him shutting off stings me, and for what seems like hundredth time today, I’m in tears.
“God, Amelia, I’m sorry.” He cups my cheek and rubs his thumb lovingly along my skin. “I can’t imagine what that must be like. Did he recognize you?”
I shake my head, tears falling onto the white pillow beneath me. “He didn’t even acknowledge me. It’s been like that the last few visits. The only time we spoke was when I first arrived in Binghamton. Ever since then, he’s been quiet, never looking me in the eye.”
Sighing, Trey says, “I’m so sorry. Has the nursing staff said anything about it?”
“Not really.” I press my lips together. “I can tell they’re just as concerned as I am.”
“Is there anything they can do?”
I shake my head. “No, not really.” He’s so . . . lonely. It’s all I can think about. What kind of silence exists in his mind? Does he talk to himself at all? Does he remember the bright and fun-loving man he used to be? “Do you remember when he used to sing that stupid ditty to me and laugh himself silly at—”
“Um . . .” Trey smiles hesitantly at me.
And then it hits me.
He doesn’t know my dad. He’s never met the healthy, wonderful, compassionate man my father was. And that makes me grieve more. My boyfriend will never know him. A new wave of tears hit me.
“It’s late. Why don’t we get ready for bed and watch a movie? Get your mind off things.”
I nod. “That would be perfect.” I think that’s perfect. Isn’t it? It’s what I needed. To get my mind off things . . .
He swoops in and tries to steal away my worries. That’s what he does best. There are no expectations of what we could be doing tonight, no sexual innuendos, just comfort. Together in silence, we brush our teeth and when I go to change, he doesn’t stare, he gives me space until we both climb into bed. Under the covers, he pulls me into his chest and wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly.
It’s been what seems like forever since we’ve had sex. He’s holding me tight against him. It feels so good. This is why I came. To be by his side and become an us again.
Yet, he’s not aroused. Trey didn’t look at me. Didn’t want me sexually. Doesn’t. Yes, in my head, I know it was for me. But what about what he wants? He’s a man. Men think about sex around twenty times per day. How can he not be aroused when he’s holding me so close to his body? Is it just because he thinks I don’t want sex? Because he loves me, he’s not initiating something we both love? If he started kissing me, surely I wouldn’t turn him down. Would I?
This is a little achingly familiar and I feel disappointment deep in my bones.
Three years ago, Aaron made choices because he loved me. He gave up what he wanted, so I would get what I wanted. But now, now he’s fighting for me. I see it in his eyes. He’s desperate for me to say yes to him. And I know if I did, we wouldn’t leave his bed for days. It makes me think of our one-year anniversary again. What did he say? Buried deep inside, a look of absolute bliss on his face. “God, baby. Being inside you. Tasting you. No other man will ever have you. No man will ever know how impossible it is to go without you. Two days. I haven’t had you for two days, and it feels like months. I would never last that long without you. Nothing would keep me away from your magnificent body. Nothing. That’s all you, sweetheart. All fucking, beautiful, irresistible, insatiable you. God, I love you.”
I know Trey loves me. He didn’t forget to tell me. He was trying to relax me and take my mind off my bad day. I know this. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll have wild monkey sex, eat all the foods I’ve missed since being away, say I love you all day, and everything will be right in my world here. In my world . . . here.
I haven’t had you for two days, and it feels like months. I would never last that long without you. Nothing would keep me away from your magnificent body. Nothing.
Tomorrow, Amelia. That will be my tomorrow. With Trey.
I stay awake that night in Trey’s arms while flashes of my other world invade my mind.
Chapter Twenty
AMELIA
I didn’t expect twenty-six to start off like this. I had other plans. I thought I would still be living in the city with Trey, thinking about a possible wedding in the future, while taking walks through Central Park hand in hand.
Instead, I’m on a bench that overlooks The Lake, by myself, a stale pretzel in hand, and a rather dreary outlook on my three-day weekend.
It’s my birthday, and I was woken up at six in the morning by a phone call. But it wasn’t my phone that was ringing. It was Trey’s. He spoke softly, trying not to wake me, but there was no point, I could hear the entire conversation and when he said he would “be there in half an hour,” my stomach dropped. He’s going to work?
He apologized profusely, told me he would be really quick and try to get out as soon as possible so we could spend the rest of the day together, but it’s past noon and I have yet to hear from him.
Instead of sitting in one of New York City’s smallest one-bedroom apartments, I chose to take a walk. No use sitting around doing nothing. I’m in New York City, I should at least try to enjoy the cool crisp air that fall brings, as well as the variety of boots, scarf, legging combinations so often found during the fall.
I bring my legs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees. I set my half-eaten pretzel to the side, done with it, and look out over the water at the fallen leaves. Fall is my favorite season of the year. There is something about the leaves changing, apple cider on every corner, and how crisp and clean the air feels that I can’t help but have a small smile on my face.
Not today though.