Текст книги "A Lover's Lament "
Автор книги: K. L. Grayson
Соавторы: B. T. Urruela
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 25 страниц)
“The Proof of Your Love” – For King and Country
I’M BUZZING. MY WHOLE FUCKING body is buzzing and her voice still rings in my ears as I return the phone to its cradle. I can hardly fight the smile that’s streaked wide across my face, so much so that my cheeks are aching. How can someone thousands of miles away make me feel this … this … euphoric? And how in the hell I’m supposed to concentrate on anything else now is beyond me.
Stepping out of headquarters, I head toward our tents, wondering what she’s doing at this very moment. It makes me sound like a fucking pussy considering I just got off the phone with her, but what can I say, the girl makes me stupid. She makes me think and feel things that I haven’t let myself think or feel in a long-ass time—things like marriage, kids, love, and a future away from here. A future where I can go to bed with her gorgeous body wrapped around mine and wake up every morning to her beautiful face. Those are the things I’m thinking of, the things I’m dreaming of, and the things I’m determined to make happen, because what I feel for Katie surpasses normal human reasoning. I have to make it back to her. I have to feel her in my arms and make her mine. There isn’t any other option.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” a voice calls out just as I’m about to enter the tent. I look over my shoulder, and under the moonlight I see Navas seated by the fire pit with a half-smoked cigar clenched between his fingers. I stop in my tracks, then spin around and walk toward him. Hooking my foot around the leg of a chair, I pull it toward his and take a seat.
“What?” I ask, feeling the smile still tugging at the corners of my lips. I fight the damn thing the best I can, but it’s a losing battle.
“That shit-eating grin you got. It about blinded me when you walked past.” He laughs and slaps a hand against his thigh.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, pulling a cigarette from the pack and lighting it.
“The fuck you don’t,” Navas says with a chuckle. “You pretty much live at the Comm Center now! You really are into this girl, huh?”
“You already know I am, fucker.”
“Why don’t you want to talk about it?” he asks, looking me intently in the eye as if trying to read me.
“I don’t know, man. I guess I figured you’d think it was all crazy. Fuck, sometimes I even think it’s fucking crazy.” I take a long drag of my cigarette and think about the words that just came out of my mouth. It’s something I’ve thought a lot about.
“What’s crazy about it?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to the girl in ten fucking years.” And you have no idea what I did to her, I think to myself, knowing full well that not talking to her for ten years doesn’t mean shit.
“Have you talked on the phone, or webcammed, or has it just been letters and emails?” His eyes quiz me even harder now as he puffs at his cigar. He looks like a mob boss interrogating a potential snitch. I can’t say I like these reversed roles very much.
“First phone call was just now,” I say, letting the fresh memory of the conversation tug at my attention. God, her voice is perfect. So soft and delicate … the kind a guy would be lucky to have whispering ‘good morning’ from the pillow beside him. I wonder if her heart raced like mine did during our call?
“No, shit?! That’s cool, man. How’d it go?”
“It was …” I trail off, my thoughts still on the call, my mind filled with images of her wrapped tightly in my arms. “Perfect.”
“You going to call her again tomorrow … or, fuck, I guess it’d be tonight?” he asks, rising to his feet and throwing the cigar butt in the pit. Taking one last drag of my cigarette, I flick it to the ground and then follow him to the tents.
“Yeah, I think I just might do that.”
My day went by as slow as hell, mostly because I was counting the minutes until I could get back to the Comm Center. Good God, I sound like a fucking girl. I look around, half expecting someone to walk up and shoot a bullet through my man card.
When I’m certain I’m alone, I pick up the phone and dial her number. Each ring raises my level of anxiety, and I shift around nervously in the seat. I hope she picks up. Another ring and I’m wishing I had actually scheduled a call with her.
“Hello?” Her sweet voice sends a jolt of electricity through my system, leaving me breathless and at a complete loss for words. “Hello?” she says again, bringing me to my senses.
“Hey, sorry, it’s Devin … hi!” Fuck, I just sounded like a little kid.
“Devin.” She releases my name in a husky breath, and the sound makes my dick go instantly hard. Closing my eyes, I picture us sitting together on the couch, her legs straddling my hips, my hands roaming ever so slowly up her arched back—
“I was hoping you would call. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you would or not, but I was hoping …”
“You were?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she purrs. The sound is too fucking erotic, and I have to reach down and rearrange my junk.
“This whole time difference thing makes it a little difficult. I wasn’t sure when would be the best time to call you.”
“You can call me anytime.” Her voice may be soft but her words speak volumes, and something inside of me clicks—something that I’ve been worrying about. This is real. “No matter when it is, I’ll do my best to answer … promise.” The sweetness in her promise makes me ache to have her near me, and I have to change the subject before I do something stupid like beg her to marry me. Because that would totally be stupid. Right?
“How was your day?”
“Uneventful,” she says with a sigh. “I had today off, so I went for a run this morning and did some shopping this afternoon.”
“Run?” I laugh, remembering how much she used to despise running in P.E. “The Katie I know isn’t a runner.”
“Knew … the Katie you knew wasn’t a runner. A lot has changed over the last decade.”
The smile falls from my face for several reasons. First, because she’s right. A lot has changed. And second, because it does nothing but drive home the knowledge that I don’t really know her anymore, and maybe more has changed than I think.
“Okay, I totally lied.” Her husky laugh travels south, and my cock goes from rock solid to throbbing against the confines of my zipper. “I’m so not a runner. But I tried! I really did try. I got up at the break of dawn, laced up my Asics and ran around the block.”
“You ran around the block?”
“It’s a big block.”
“You’re so full of shit,” I joke, feeling the smile slide back onto my face. “I bet you didn’t even run the whole way.”
“I hate you.”
“Because I’m right. You totally walked, didn’t you?”
“I jogged,” she corrects. “There’s a big difference. And enough about me.” She huffs, but the amusement is clear in her voice. “How was your day?”
“Boring … but a boring day is a good day over here.” I pause and think about how lucky we’ve been as of late. Not much has happened since the incident with the girl, and the missions have run smoothly thus far. In my experience, that means something is bound to happen. There’s always a calm before the storm.
“What’s it like over there? And what do you do … wait, am I allowed to ask that?”
“Yeah, you can ask that.” I laugh, secretly loving that she wants to know more about me. “It’s nothing too special. We’re on something called a combat outpost, so it’s pretty small … just bare essentials. A few buildings, one of which I’m in now, and some tents we stay in. A couple of porta-potties but no shower.”
“No shower? Yikes!” She laughs but catches herself, as if she feels bad for jesting me.
“No, you have no idea. Our tents have a smell that could be collected and used as a biological weapon. It’s beyond bad.” She laughs loudly through the phone and it makes me want to continue, if only to hear that sweet sound again. “I do my absolute best with baby wipes and water bottles, but some of these guys over here have a misunderstanding of what good hygiene is. I swear this guy Elkins hasn’t changed his uniform in months. You could stand it upright without him in it.”
“Oh God,” she slips out between laughs.
“As far as day-to-day life though, it has its ups and downs. There are incredibly slow, dull moments, and there are times when I feel like I’m in an action movie ... and some days I wish it were a movie.” At least then I could pick up after the credits start rolling and go home, safe and sound.
Katie clears her throat. “It’s crazy it’s only been a little less than twenty-four hours since we last spoke. It felt like a whole lot longer.” There’s the girl I grew up with, I think to myself, never afraid to say exactly what she’s thinking.
“You seriously have no fucking idea.” My head falls back between my shoulders, and I run a hand along the back of my neck. “Right now, a lot of our job is just sitting around in a Humvee doing nothing, so time drags on at a snail’s pace. After the day I had, I feel like it’s been weeks since we’ve talked.”
I pause for a moment and a crackling static takes over the line. “Am I going to make a fool of myself if I say you were the only thing on my mind the entire twelve-hour mission?” I laugh, but it’s the nervous kind that comes out all wrong.
“Really?” she asks, her voice laced with disbelief.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I got your first letter.”
“Devin …” The rough sound of my name falling from her lips is almost my undoing. What I wouldn’t give to hear her say my name like that, naked and writhing beneath me. “I like it. I like that you think about me … that you couldn’t stop thinking about me.” She pauses. My heart is pounding against my ribcage as I wait for her to continue—and she will continue. I can feel it. Her honesty and openness amazes me … everything about my girl amazes me.
My girl. Fuck, that sounds good.
“I’m happy to hear that you think of me because you, Sergeant Clay, have taken up way too many of my thoughts as well. So it makes me happy to hear that the feeling is mutual. I’m glad I’m not alone in this.” My chest tightens. This girl couldn’t get more perfect. How in the hell I got so lucky, I’ll never know.
“More than mutual.” The words jump from my mouth before I can stop them. Damn, it probably makes me sound like a fucking pussy, but it feels good telling her that. I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “I looked forward to your letters and emails, Katie, but now that we’ve talked … I can’t tell you how nice it is to be able to call you after the long-ass day I had. You know I’m gonna crave your voice now, don’t you?” I hear a quick intake of air, and I can’t hold back the smile tugging at my lips. My eyes drift to the clock and I cringe—I forgot about the time difference. “I hope it’s alright that I’m calling at this time.”
“Of course,” she says. “Like I said, call me anytime. If I’m not around to answer or have something else going on, I’ll just email you and you can give me a call back. Deal?” God, how could I not agree to everything this woman says?
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” And because nothing in my life is ever easy, I hear a long whistle followed by an explosion off in the distance. The sounds put my body on high alert. I straighten up in my seat, stiff as a board, and listen for any more sounds.
“Devin?” I hear her, but I don’t respond right away. I listen as another long whistle sounds and another blast hits—closer this time. “Devin, what is that?” The panic in her voice reclaims my attention.
“Hey, it was nothing,” I lie, shifting the phone to my other ear. I cock my head and listen for more.
“Are you sure? It didn’t sound like nothing.” Damn it. This is the part I didn’t want her to be exposed to—the part I wanted to pretend didn’t exist. I want to end the call before the mortar rounds strike closer and the sound of the explosions cannot be mistaken, but I can’t bear to let her go. The commotion on the other side of the door in headquarters has picked up now, and I know shit is about to go down. Just a little bit longer. I need to talk to her just a little bit longer.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, I promise.” The last word is cut in half by a whistle that punishes the eardrums and is followed by an explosion that rocks the walls of the building as if they were made of paper. The phone clicks and buzzes, but I hear Katie faintly calling for me on the other end.
I can hear chaos outside and I know this is bad. They’ve successfully targeted their mortar rounds and there are sure to be more to come. “Katie?” I call frantically into the receiver, needing to know I didn’t lose her, desperate to hear her voice one last time.
“Devin? Devin, I’m scared. I can’t los—” Her trembling voice is muted by the static buzz, but I know exactly what she was saying because it’s the same thing I was thinking.
And maybe that’s what motivates me to continue. Maybe that’s what pulls the next words from my throat.
My words are rushed, and I don’t even know if she can hear me, but she needs to know … I want her to know. “I want you back. I want us, Katie, and I’ll—”
The line goes dead—my words cut off—and I’m thrown from my chair as another explosion rocks the earth beneath my feet.
“From Where You Are” – Lifehouse
“DEVIN?” ALL THE BLOOD DRAINS from my face, my heart racing so fast it’s literally seconds away from exploding. “Devin!” The shrill sound of a woman screaming penetrates through the blood pounding in my ears, and I look around before realizing that woman is me.
“No. Nononono.” Snapping the phone shut, I rub my fingers over my temples, trying to drown out what I heard. Devin’s words were broken and barely audible when they completely cut off. Images of him lying on the ground, hurt or worse, start playing through my mind, and I look around, frantically trying to decide what to do. I need to do something. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.
My body freezes at the realization that there isn’t a damn thing I can do. Devin is half a world away, and I have no other way to contact him. “Oh, God.” My limbs go numb. Fear courses through my body, robbing it of normal function and control. On unsteady legs I push from the couch, and with jerky movements I walk across the living room into the kitchen, my phone gripped so tight in my hand that my knuckles are painfully white.
I can’t do anything. Just like with Daddy, I’m helpless.
Sucking in a shuddery breath, I send out a quick text—a cry for help—and then I toss my phone on the counter and brace myself for impact. With my hands planted firmly against the sink, I bow my head, allowing myself to be absorbed into the all-consuming and far-too-familiar sense of dread. Call it what you want … panic, fear, terror. It’s all the same. And right now, like the blood in my veins, it’s flowing through my body.
Chills race up my arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake, and the sob that’s been building inside my chest finally rips free, causing me to collapse to the floor. My vision blurs, tears sliding thick and fast down my cheeks. Images of my dad in the car, blood running from his face, flash in my head … only it’s not my dad’s face I see, it’s Devin’s. Pulling my knees to my chest, I bury my head and cry.
Time passes, each vision tearing off another chunk of my heart. Maybe I’ve been here for minutes, maybe hours; I honestly have no idea. But when I hear my mom’s soft voice, my head snaps up.
“Katie.” She rushes toward me, dropping to her knees. Pulling me against her chest, her familiar arms curl around my body, wrapping me in the warmth and love that I knew only she could provide. “Katie, sweetheart, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me, honey.”
“Devin.” Pulling back, I wipe the tears from my face but they’re quickly replaced. “We were talking and there was th-this loud noise, and he said that everything was o-okay but it wasn’t.” My words break as my chest heaves. “It wasn’t okay”—my head shakes frantically—“because I h-heard it again, this l-loud whistle … and then there was a b-boom … and then he was gone. Just like th-that, he was gone, and I don’t know w-what to do. I can’t l-lose him, Mama. I can’t.” The thought of losing him—again—is nearly unbearable. A tight band constricts around my chest, robbing air from my lungs, and threatening to squeeze the life out of my heart.
Bile rushes up my throat. Scrambling from the floor, I run to the trashcan. A burning sensation rips through my stomach as I expel all of its contents.
Mom sweeps my hair out of my face, securing it in a band. Seconds later, a cool, wet cloth is pressed against the back of my neck. With each surge of my stomach, I bawl, breaking down bit by bit until there’s nothing left. Only then do I allow myself to drift toward the dark tunnel of the place I was before … the empty hole I buried myself in after Daddy’s death.
How could I put myself through this again? How could I care for a man that could so easily be torn away from me? I knew Devin was a soldier and I knew the risks that went along with that, yet I still allowed myself to fall for him … care for him … love him. Another rush of bile crawls up my throat, but this time I’m able to swallow past it.
“Come on.” Wrapping one arm around my back, my mom guides me gently to my room, tucks me in bed and then climbs in next to me. I snuggle against her side, and she kisses the top of my head and then whispers, “Devin, huh?”
My eyes snap up. Mama is watching me, but instead of looking upset or confused, she looks curious. I told her that Wyatt and I broke things off, but I never did tell her about Devin … not even that we’re talking again after all this time. I decide she needs an update.
So I tell her about the pen pal program, and we talk about Devin and what he’s been through, and how he’s managed to break through my walls and steal a piece of my heart. She smiles when I relive the moment I read his first letter to me and how his words were a punch to my solar plexus, then she laughs when I tell her about the way he made fun of me trying to run. My eyes drift shut as I describe hearing his voice for the first time in so long, and the way it literally made my heart flop around in my chest. When I open my eyes, I see that she has tears building in hers.
“So what do we do now?” She said we. Air rushes from my lungs. Tilting her head to get a better look at my face, she smiles. “How do we find out if Devin is okay?”
“I, uh …” Scanning through every letter, email and conversation in my head, I try to think of anything to help me out, but I come up empty. “I have no idea. I don’t even know where to start. There is a number on my phone, one that pops up when he calls, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to call it—or even if I should. Not after what I heard on the phone.” I don’t know the fucking rules or procedures or anything, and it’s driving me insane. Rubbing a hand over my face, I thread my fingers into my hair, gripping it at the roots. What do I do?
“I wish I had some answers for you, sweetie, but I don’t.” Mama sighs, readjusting herself on my pillows. “Devin always was a smart young man, and I’m sure he could tell how scared you were on the phone.” I nod, remembering his words and the way he was trying to comfort and reassure me when all hell was obviously breaking loose around him. “I’m sure that, whenever he can, he’ll find a way to reach out to you.”
“I know.” Biting my lip, I suck it into my mouth. “But that doesn’t help me now. I’m scared for him. I want to know that he’s okay.”
“I know, honey.”
“He’s more than my friend,” I whisper, tucking my head under her chin. “I know it sounds silly, but I feel like I’m right back where I was when I was eighteen. It’s like nothing has changed. My feelings haven’t wavered, and if anything, they’ve only grown stronger. He feels it too,” I add, just in case she’s wondering if the feeling is mutual. Under thick lashes, I peek up at my mom to find her smiling. “It’s sort of scary because it’s not like I forgot that he left me, Mama. And I do believe him when he says he’ll never leave me again. But what if this time he doesn’t have a choice?”
Sayings these things out loud, telling someone else all of the feelings that I have for Devin, is freeing in a way I never expected. It’s almost as if, after he left all those years ago, I balled up everything inside, tucked it all away and never talked about it again. “Do I sound crazy?”
“Not crazy,” she whispers.
“I never felt for Wyatt what I feel for Devin, and it’s terrifying because I haven’t even seen him in ten years.”
“Love doesn’t have an expiration date, Katie. There is no cookie cutter for it, and there sure as hell aren’t instructions. It just is. Who says you can’t fall in love with someone who’s already broken your heart? Who says you can’t move on and then fall in love all over again from thousands of miles away via letters and emails? That’s the great thing about love … it finds you. And when it’s true love, it doesn’t go away, and you just know. You don’t have to wonder or guess, because it just … is.”
“That’s exactly how I feel.” A sense of peace blankets me, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “How did you get so smart?”
Mama laughs. “It’s a mother thing. You’ll understand one of these days.”
“I love you. You know that, right? I know I was a pain after Daddy … after Daddy died, and I know I said some things and did some things—”
“You’ve already apologized. No more.” Kissing my head, she slides from the bed and I sit up, wishing she would stay. There is just something about being wrapped in your mother’s arms. For a few moments, I was a kid again, and her words and soothing touch had the ability to make everything better. “We all grieve in our own way, on our own schedule. I knew you’d get through it, you just needed time.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home. I need to take care of the horses.”
“No.” Flinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I stand up. “I’ll do it. I told you I’d take care of them.”
Mama cups my face in her hands. “Not today.” Her words may be simple, but they’re firm, leaving no room for discussion. “You need to be here. I know you’re worried, but try to stay positive and strong until you hear something.”
That’s easier said than done. “Okay, Mama. Thank you.”
Following her through the house, I give her one last kiss before watching her walk out the front door. She shuts it gently behind her and I’m left standing in my living room. Everything is quiet and I feel lost, so I do the only thing I can do … I communicate with Devin the one way I know how in this moment.
To: Sergeant Devin U. Clay
From: Katie Devora
Subject:
Devin,
I left the subject line empty because I simply didn’t know what to put. I’m scared. No, scared probably isn’t a strong enough word. I’m terrified. I have no idea what happened today … sure, I can take a few guesses, but what I know for certain is that you were torn away from me, your words cut off, and in a split second, you were gone. And right now I just really need to know that you’re okay. Actually, you have to be okay because there are still so many plans we need to make and things that I need to tell you.
My mom came over after our phone call. I needed someone to be with me because I felt like I was falling apart. I told her all about how we became reacquainted, and I half expected her to go all Mama Bear because of the way things ended between us. But she didn’t. She stepped up to the plate and took care of me, just like I needed her to do.
Okay, so I’m going to go about my day, cleaning the house and doing laundry, but don’t think for a second that you aren’t consuming every single spot in my head. Because you are, and that won’t change until I hear back from you—and I will hear back from you. Please call me as soon as you can.
Love,
Katie
It’s been twenty-four hours since I heard Devin’s voice. Twenty-four hours of waiting, worrying and pacing … and I have been doing a lot of pacing. And where there is pacing, there is thinking, and right now, I’m thinking about all of the things I may never get to say to Devin.
To: Sergeant Devin U. Clay
From: Katie Devora
Subject: I want you
Devin,
I had a dream last night that we were on the phone. You were laughing at something I said and there was a loud bang. It was a weird dream, because even though you were on the phone, I could see you. I watched you get thrown across the room and you were lying there, writhing in pain, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do. I was screaming, desperately beating at the invisible wall keeping me from getting to you, but it wasn’t doing any good. I was frantic to get to you, but I couldn’t.
That was it … I woke up in a cold sweat and then realized it wasn’t a dream. I realized that it was real, only in reality, I don’t know if you’re okay. I don’t know if you’re lying somewhere, hurt … or dead. I’ve decided that I don’t like the unknown … it leaves too much room for my mind to wander, and my mind doesn’t usually wander in the right direction.
I have to work today. I’m not sure if working will be a good thing or a bad thing. You’re still consuming every inch of space in my head … and my heart. I forgot to tell you that the last time we spoke, but it’s true.
Love,
Katie
Clasping my hands together, my gaze flits around the room, avoiding the computer sitting right in front of me. My stomach rumbles, but I don’t dare put anything in it, not with the amount of throwing up that I’ve been doing.
Thoughts of Devin fill every second of every day. Yesterday after work, I broke down and began searching the Internet for any information that I could find. I had no idea what to search for, so I started combing through headlines on the Internet, hoping to see something—anything—that might give me some sort of peace … some sort of comfort in the hell I’ve been living. I found nothing.
Gritting my teeth, I try to fight the tremble in my chin, but it’s a lost cause. My throat burns, constricting with emotion, as tears fall from my face. Wiping the tears away is pointless—I gave up on that a long time ago.
To: Sergeant Devin U. Clay
From: Katie Devora
Subject: I want us
It’s been forty-nine hours, twenty-two minutes and fourteen seconds since I’ve heard from you. I’ve checked my email hundreds of times, hoping to see a reply, and each time I come up empty, a little piece of me breaks away. My phone has become a permanent fixture in my hand because I keep waiting for you to call.
I miss you. How did that happen in such a short amount of time? I miss seeing your name in my inbox … I miss reading your words, and with each passing second, I’m convinced that I may never see them again. I need to see them, Devin. You’ve always been a part of me, but this is still new and I’m not done exploring. I’m certainly not ready to let go.
I’m still holding on to hope.
Love,
Katie
“Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Mom.” It’s the third time she’s called today. I canceled my appointment with Dr. Perry, and I haven’t shown up to take care of Mac, Molly, and Toby all week. I would never leave her to do it, so I’ve hired out extra help on top of the kid I’ve already got going there. She’s worried … she should be. I can feel myself slipping, giving up hope with each passing second. I can see myself going down the road I’ve recently traveled … the one where I shut down because being numb is so much easier than feeling the pain.
“I’m making lasagna for dinner. Would you like to come over?”
“Nah. Thank you, though,” I answer. “I made a pizza a little while ago.” Closing my eyes, I cringe. Lying to her is not the grown-up thing to do, but I hate to make her worry, and right now, I just need to be alone.
“How about breakfast in the morning? I can make your favorite.”
“I have to work.”
“Don’t do this, Katie,” she pleads.
“Don’t do what?” I hiss. “What am I supposed to do? Should I just pretend that he didn’t exist, pretend that something horrible didn’t happen—”
“I know it looks bad—”
“Looks bad?” I scoff, pressing my thumbs into my temples because, damn it, I do not want to cry right now. “It doesn’t look bad, Mom, it is bad. I’ve done everything I can do, and I keep coming up empty-handed. I’ve contacted every military facility I can find, but nobody knows anything, or they just don’t want to tell me. So either something terrible has happened, or …” My words, along with my thoughts, trail off.
“Katie, I don’t want you to be alone right now.”
“I have to go, Mom.” Ending the call, I power my phone down, lock my door, grab my laptop and crawl into bed.
To: Sergeant Devin U. Clay
From: Katie Devora
Subject: What do you say?
Devin,
My mind is fucking with me something fierce. I’ve considered the fact that maybe I’ve been duped … maybe you’re not responding to my emails or calling because this was all some sort of joke or game and I’ve been played. But then I read the letters you’ve sent me and I know that couldn’t be it. Then I get mad at myself for even thinking it, because you promised you wouldn’t hurt me again. And I do believe you.
Last night I cried myself to sleep because this pain that has settled in the center of my chest is becoming too much to bear, and each day it hurts just a little bit more. I had another dream about you, only this time you weren’t hurt and it had nothing to do with our last phone call. In fact, you were here with me. We were in bed. My head was resting over your heart. Your left arm was wrapped around my shoulder, your finger drawing circles over my bare arm. It was perfect. We were happy and didn’t have a care in the world. And then I woke up and realized that I may never get to feel your skin against mine again, and that thought alone nearly brought me to my knees.
I want that, Devin. I want to see you. I want to feel your lips brush mine, to feel our fingers link the way they used to. But at the same time, I want to start over because we’re two different people than we were back then. I want the firsts all over again with the man that you’ve become. I want the first date, the first awkward kiss—because there always is one (remember ours?)—the first non-awkward kiss, the first everything. I want to snuggle up next to you and fall asleep to the beat of your heart. I want to be woken up in the middle of the night by your touch … the list goes on and on, but basically, I want it all.
