Point of Retreat(38)

“I love you, Lake. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I love you so much.”



She pulls back and looks me in the eyes. "I want you to make love to me, Will."

I wrap my arms tightly around her back and stand up as she clings to my neck. She wraps her legs around my waist and I carry her to my bedroom and we collapse onto the bed. Her hands find the button of my jeans and she unbuttons them as my mouth slowly moves from her lips to her chin and down her neck. I can't believe this is actually happening. I don't allow myself time to second guess my own actions. I slide my fingers under the straps of her bra and pull them down off of her shoulders. She slides her arms out of the straps and I move my lips along the edge of her bra when she begins to struggle with the button on her own jeans. I lift up to assist her, then I guide her hands as we slide them off and toss them behind me onto the floor. She scoots further up onto the bed until her head meets the pillows. I pull the covers out from beneath her and slide on top of her, then pull the covers back on top of us. When our eyes meet, I see the heartache behind her expression and the tears still streaming down her face. She grasps at the waist of my jeans and begins to slide them down when I pull her hands away. She’s hurting so much. She’s still heartbroken. I can't let her do this. She still doesn't trust me.

“Lake, I can’t.” I roll off of her and try to catch my breath. “Not like this. You’re upset. It shouldn’t be like this.”



She doesn’t say anything…she just continues to cry. We both lie next to one another for several minutes without saying a single word. I reach over to put my hand on top of hers but she pulls it away and slides off the bed. She picks her jeans up off the floor and walks back into the living room. I follow her and watch while she puts her shirt and pants back on. She sucks in a couple of breaths in an attempt to hold back her tears.

“Are you leaving?” I ask hesitantly. "I don’t want you to go. Stay with me.”



She doesn’t respond. She goes to the door and slips her shoes on, then her jacket. I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her. “You can’t be mad at me for this. You aren’t thinking clearly, Lake. If we do this while you're angry, you’ll regret it tomorrow. Then you’ll be mad at yourself, too. You understand that, don’t you?”



She wipes tears from her eyes and steps away from me. “You’ve had sex with her, Will. How do I get past that? How do I get past the fact that you’ve made love to Vaughn, but you won’t make love to me? You don’t know how it feels to be rejected. It feels like shit. You just made me feel like shit.”



“Lake, that’s absurd! I’m not rejecting you. I love you too much for it not to be perfect for you. I’m not about to have sex with you for the first time while you’re crying. If we do this now, we’ll both feel like shit.”



She rubs her hands across her eyes again and looks down at the floor, attempting not to cry. We stand quietly in the living room, neither of us sure what happens next. I’ve said all I can say. I just need her to believe me, so I give her time to think.

“Will?” She slowly brings her eyes back up to meet mine. It looks almost like it hurts her to even look at me. “I’m not sure I can do this," she says.

The look in her eyes makes my heart feel like it's come to a literal stop. I've seen this look in a girl before. She's about to break up with me.

"I mean…I’m not sure I can do us," she says. "I’m trying so hard, but I don’t know how to get past this. How do I know this life is what you want? How do you know this is what you want? You need time, Will. We need time to think about it. We have to question everything.”



I don’t respond. I can’t. Everything I say comes out wrong.

She’s not crying anymore. “I’m going home now. I need you to let me go. Just let me go, okay?”



It’s the clear headedness behind her voice and the calm, reasonable expression in her eyes that rips the heart right out of my chest. She turns to leave, and all I can do is let her go. I just let her go.

***

After an hour of punching everything I can find to punch, cleaning everything I can find to clean and screaming every cussword I can think to scream, I knock on Sherry’s door. When she opens it, she looks at me and doesn’t say a word. She turns back inside and comes back a moment later and holds out her fist. I open my palm and she drops the pills in my hand and looks at me with pity. I hate pity.