Point of Retreat (Slammed #2)(30)
I reach over and take her hand but she pulls it back again. “Tell me,” she says.
I try to think of where to begin. I inhale a deep breath and exhale slowly, preparing to be interrupted a million more times.
“She wrote me a note in class the other day and asked if we could talk. I told her no, that there was nothing to say. She just showed up last night out of the blue. I didn’t let her in, Lake. I was in my bedroom when she got here. I would have never let her in.” I look her in the eyes when I say that, because it’s the truth.
“My grandmother wanted her to eat with us and I told her no and said I needed to talk to her. I just wanted her to leave. She started crying and told me she hated how she ended things with me. She said she knew about you and our whole situation with our parents and us raising our brothers. She said I ‘owed it to you’ to find out where my heart really lies, and that maybe I was with you because I felt sorry for you, since I've been in your shoes before. She wanted me to give her another chance, to see if I was with you for the right reasons. I told her no. I told her I loved you, Lake. I asked her to leave and she started crying again so I hugged her. I felt like I was being a jerk, that’s the only reason why I hugged her.”
I watch for some sort of reaction to my confession, but she just looks down at her lap so that I'm unable to see her face. “Why did you kiss her on the forehead?” she asks softly.
I sigh and stroke her cheek with the back of my hand, pulling her focus back in my direction. “Lake, I don’t know. You’ve got to understand that I dated her for over two years. There are some things that, no matter how long it’s been, it’s just habit. It didn’t mean anything, it was just habit. I was just consoling her.”
Lake lies back onto the arm of the couch and stares up at the ceiling while she thinks. All I can do is just let her think. I’ve told her everything. I watch her as she lies there, not saying a word. I want so bad to lie down beside her and hold her. It’s killing me that I can’t.
“Do you think there’s a chance that she’s right?” she asks, still staring at the ceiling.
“Right about what? That she loves me? Maybe, I don’t know. I don’t care. It doesn’t change anything.”
“I don’t mean about that. It’s obvious she still wants to be with you, she said it herself. I mean do you think there’s a chance she could be right about the other thing? About the possibility of you being with me because of our situation? Because you feel sorry for me.”
I spring forward on the couch and climb on top of her and grasp her jaw, pulling her face to mine. “Don’t, Lake. Don’t you dare think that for a second!”
She squeezes her eyes shut and tears slide down over her temples, into her hair. I kiss them. I kiss her face and her tears and her eyes and her cheeks and her lips. I need her to know that it’s not true. I need her to know how much I love her.
“Will, stop,” she says weakly. I can hear her cry being suppressed in her throat; I can see it in her face. She doubts me.
“Baby, no. Don’t believe that. Please don’t believe that.” I press my head into the crevice between her shoulder and her neck. “I love you because of you.”
I’ve never needed anyone to believe anything more in my entire life. I need her to believe me. When she starts to resist and push against me, I slip my arm underneath her neck and pull her closer. “Lake, stop this. Please don’t go,” I beg. I realize as I’m speaking that my voice is shaking. I’ve never been so scared I was about to lose something in my entire life, that I completely lose control. I start to cry.
“Will, don’t you see it?” she says. “How do you know? How do you really know? You couldn’t leave me now if you wanted to. Your heart is too good for that, you would never do that to me. So how do I know if you would really be here if our circumstances were different? If our parents were alive and we didn’t have Kel and Caulder, how do you know you would even love me?”
I clasp my hand over her mouth. “No! Stop saying that, Lake. Please.” She closes her eyes and her tears start flowing even faster. I kiss them again. I kiss her cheek and I kiss her forehead and I kiss her lips. I grasp the back of her head and I kiss her with more desperation than I’ve ever kissed her before. She puts her hands on my neck and kisses me back.
She’s kissing me back.
We’re both still crying, frantically trying to hold on to the last bit of sanity between us. She pushes against me. She’s still kissing me, but she wants me to sit up, so I do. I lean back into the couch and she slides onto my lap and strokes my face with her hands. We stop kissing for a brief moment and look at each other. I wipe tears away from her face and she does the same for me. I can still see the heartache in her eyes but she squeezes them shut and brings her lips back to mine. I pull her into me so close that it makes it hard to breathe. We’re both gasping for air as we try to find a constant rhythm amidst our frantic struggle. I have never needed her with more intensity than I need her right now. She pulls at my shirt so I lean forward, allowing her to slip it off over my head. When her lips separate from mine, she crosses her arms and grasps the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. I help her. When her shirt is on top of mine in the floor, I wrap my arms around her, placing my hands on the bare skin of her back, and I pull her into me.