Page 97 of The Finish Line

But I love him. And I want him, badly. The craving is getting harder to ignore. We’ve been sleeping in the same bed for nearly a month, and I haven’t once permitted myself to get lost in him.

“Earth to Cecelia.”

I glance up at Marissa to see her shaking her head. It’s then I realize she’s been standing in front of me with the deposit in hand, and I tuned her out the whole time she was trying to get my attention.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said I’d take the deposit if you want to head home.” She shoulders her purse and smiles down at me. “Boss, please know I have your best interests at heart when I say this.”

“Okay?”

“Put yourself out of your misery and fuck the man, already.” She lifts a brow as my lips part. “First and foremost, I’ve seen him, and not even the Messiah himself will blame you for fornicating sinfully and often with him. You can think it through all you want, but combine sexual tension, old hurts, conflicting feelings, and what-ifs, and you two are going to be hamsters on roller skates for some time.”

“Isn’t it a hamster on a wheel?”

“Which do you think is harder for the hamster?”

I laugh and shake my head at her. “You’re nuts.”

“You’re still punishing him.”

“Trust me. I have reason to. But I’m... I want to let it go.”

“So—” she nudges me and grins—“go home and mount that fucking lion, mouse.”

“I’m not a mouse, and that’s what I need to make him understand.”

She nods. “Then get persuasive. Fight him if you must, but do it in your laciest thong.” She grabs our cups. “I’m going to rinse these and take off.”

I stand. “I’ll leave with you.”

I set the alarm, and it starts to beep as we head toward the door.

“You could take a day off, you know,” she adds, “we can cover things here.”

“I just did yesterday, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Marissa chatters on about her Halloween plans as I lock up, spotting the two ravens in the sedan parked a few stores down. I lift my chin in both greeting and thanks as Marissa and I step off the curb and she rounds her SUV.

“—I didn’t think I’d see him again after that day, but he’s got potential. I don’t know, we’ll see.”

She opens her car door, and her chatter ceases. “My God, woman, it’s like talking to a wall.”

I wince and look over at her. “Sorry. I’m just...”

“Distracted. It’s okay, girl,” she offers patiently, adding a wink of support. “See you tomorrow, boss.” She starts her Jeep and backs away, just as a mother of two steps out of the minimart a few doors down, passing out two freshly purchased orange pumpkin containers from a plastic bag to two eager costumed Minions. She catches me on the sidewalk noticing them, and smiles, and I wave before she sets to work securing them in the back of her SUV. I imagine her life is similar to Christy’s in the family dynamic, and can clearly see their night playing out. A rushed dinner, followed by trick-or-treating, before wrestling their sugar-high kids into pajamas and later collapsing into bed sharing a high five.

A normal life.

I could have had that. I had every chance to have normal. But with Tobias, normal will most likely never be part of the equation. And the truth is, I resented normal when I did have it, my whole-being rejected it. I wanted him, a life with him. And he’s here. He’s here because he wants me too, and the rest of it just doesn’t fucking matter.

Remorse courses through me as I picture the exit wound on Tobias’s back while he was showering.

“What are you doing, Cecelia?” I scold as tears threaten.

My heart cracks in understanding of the time I’ve already wasted, begrudging him for mistakes he’s already paid for ten times over. And he’s still punishing himself daily, his heart continually breaking. And instead of forgiving him and trying to put his pieces back together, I’m ripping the possibility of a second chance away from us. While he’s been fighting for what we had, I’ve been weighing him down with expectations.

Every minute counts, every second I’m with him is a gift, and I’m fucking wasting it.

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