All Grown Up(72)

He pushed inside with a tenderness that made my tears begin to flow once more. He kissed me again in the nick of time. We’d always been connected, but this time was different—it felt like our minds, bodies, and souls were all in alignment as he began to move in and out of me. Nothing had ever felt so incredible. I’d heard people say when they made love they became one—yet, until this moment, I’d never actually experienced it myself. But we were one, connected in every way we could be—even if just for those brief moments. It was a heartbreaking yet magical experience.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him and held on for dear life. Though I felt my orgasm building, I couldn’t have prepared myself for the intensity when it hit. Earth-shattering. Or maybe it wasn’t so much the earth breaking to pieces, but my own heart inside my chest. I cried out, letting Ford’s name sing from my lips like a hymn. He tensed and groaned into my mouth as he released inside of me.

We lay panting for a long time, his head hanging over my shoulder with his face in the blanket.

When he finally lifted it, his voice was raspy. “I’m going to miss you.”

I couldn’t return the sentiment because I was too terrified that if I opened my mouth, uncontrolled blubbering and an affirmation of love might spill out.

So instead, I hugged him and thought to myself…

I’m going to miss you, too. More than you’ll ever know.

We made love twice more that night. And the intensity and passion never dulled one bit. After round three, my head rested on his chest, and I heard Ford’s breathing become slower and deeper. He’d drifted off, but I couldn’t. I wanted to savor every last minute we had left together.





Chapter 27




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Ford



I wasn’t good with goodbyes.

The last time I had to say one of any significance had been when I said goodbye to my parents. The wake had just ended, and the funeral director had asked me if I wanted to take a few moments in private to say farewell. My sister was too young and waited outside with my aunt while they shut me in the room with two caskets, lying side by side.

While most of those days were a blur, I remember sitting there all by myself so clearly. The priest had said something that stuck with me: Goodbyes are not forever and aren’t the end; they are only until we meet again.

Maybe I just needed to believe that was true that day, but those words gave me the strength to walk out of that room without actually feeling like it was the last time I’d see them.

Today felt a lot like that. I knew in my heart that letting Valentina go was what I had to do—yet that didn’t make it any damn easier. Especially since I was pretty certain if I hadn’t made a clean break last night, she would have given a shot to continuing things.

That made it so much harder. It killed me to know she was hurting, and it pained me to be the cause of it. But I also knew in my heart it had to be like this. She needed this time. She’d said it all along, and I was too selfish to believe it. I guess I have dear old Dad to thank for making me see the realities of a relationship.

That was pretty ironic to think about right now.

I carried my sister’s bags out to the car. Somehow she’d come with two suitcases and now, eight weeks later, had four, in addition to some artwork she wanted me to ship to her at school. Her flight wasn’t until tonight—almost seven hours from now. But she needed to stop at my apartment to pick up a few things she’d left behind and then had to be at the airport two hours before departure. Traffic this time of the year could be three hours—or even five—from Montauk to Manhattan, so that seven hours didn’t actually have too much padding built into it.

My sister tossed a backpack in the passenger seat of my car. “I’m going to go next door and say goodbye to Valentina. You want to come?” she said.

Is skipping saying goodbye and taking her home with me an option instead? I shook my head. “You go ahead. I have to grab a few things from the house still. I’ll stop over in a minute.”

Bella went next door, and I took a seat on the couch. I’d been up since we walked home at dawn, so all of my shit was packed and in the car already. I looked around the living room. Everything was back in its place, just like when we’d arrived at the start of the summer. Yet nothing was the same. I leaned my elbows on my knees, and my head dropped into my hands. My mind had been spinning for the better part of a week, but this morning was the worst. I felt dizzy as I went back and forth, debating with myself nonstop.

Maybe this didn’t have to be the end? Maybe we’d both be back out here next summer?

Goodbyes are not forever and aren’t the end; they are only until we meet again.

Or maybe I was fucking fooling myself just to make today easier, like I did at the funeral.

A part of me wanted to propose same time next year if we’re both single? But that wouldn’t be fair. I knew Val cared about me, had feelings for me. She needed to be free to experience and figure out what she really wanted. As much as it made me want to punch the wall at the thought—she needed to date. So I couldn’t say same time next year. But that couldn’t stop me from thinking it. When you loved someone, it was easier to go on day after day if you believed it wasn’t truly over.

Jesus Christ.

When you love someone…