Page 3 of Falling for Fury

“Look after yourself, Ads. I love you.”

Forcing through the lump in my throat, “I love you, too.”

Noah

“Adorable. Also insane how you’ve managed to create a human that is basically your twin while being abundantly cuter.”

“Are you calling me cute, Karvelas?” Matt is satisfied with his joke as he sips his beer. I met Matteo De Luca in college. We became roommates, agreeing that a Frat house was the opposite of how we wanted our college experience to go, but we still enjoyed our time like regular students. Or at least I did. Matt had Ava, who is now his wife. They were already dating when we met, and he put a ring on that finger a year after graduating, but he made a fantastic wingman.

“Yeah, at six feet, with unkempt facial hair, you’re just a peach.” We settle into a comfortable laugh, and a pang of guilt settles in my middle. I couldn’t believe how long it had been since I made time for Matt and his family. We used to be so close in college, keeping in regular touch in the years following; phone calls and FaceTime made that easier. Mia loves to kidnap Matt’s phone and set me up amongst the tea party; surprisingly making it easy to get a lot of work done because no one else can call me and she just forgets I’m there. It doesn’t stop the guilt though. I couldn’t believe it had been, I think two years, since I saw them in person. That time really got away from me.

“Why don’t you come by this weekend?”

“Hmm?”

“Mia’s 5th birthday, it is at the Parks Play House, so probably not your scene, but a few of the other guys will be there, I’ve sent invites to Ethan and Lucas, Caleb, too, it’d be nice to have some grown ups around to talk to. Although I’m not holding my breath for Caleb and Lucas to show up. I don’t know that there will be enough single women for them to harass.” I choke on my beer, but it is hard to disagree. Ethan and Caleb also went to college with Matt and I. Lucas, Ethan’s younger brother, didn’t, but he hung around regardless.

I’m closest to Caleb, and he also works for me. While he is actually a great person, and extremely intelligent, he hides behind an adolescent arrogance; the cliché fuckboy from every bad romance movie.

“It’d be nice to catch up with Ava again and see Mia in person. I wouldn’t count on seeing Caleb, though. I’ve already heard… in detail… what he has planned this weekend.” A shudder courses through me as I wash away the TMI conversation with Caleb from earlier with a final chug of my beer. “Send me the details. I’ll let you know if I can swing by. I’ll probably have a few things to tie up at the office first.”

“Dude, it’s on a Saturday…”

“I didn’t make it this far by taking days off.” Matt shakes his head and chuckles as I throw him a wink and a salute, tossing some bills on the table. Enough to cover both our beers and a decent tip for the waitress. Cute, brunette, eye fucking me from the moment I walked in, leaving me to want for nothing.

Perhaps the extra tip is an apology for not reciprocating. Perhaps it is a thank you for the ego stroke. Whatever it is, I hope I work it out soon because this dry spell is driving me fucking nuts.

I leave the bar and head in the direction of my brownstone, deciding on a walk to clear my head.

The New York air has a slight chill to it. Missing the sun from earlier in the day, I stuff my hands into my pockets and pull my coat tighter across my front. Despite it being a weeknight, the bar was relatively busy and the patrons spilling on the street cause a ruckus. As I make my way around the corner and towards the park, I add Mia’s birthday party to my calendar, because we all know those ginormous soft brown eyes on the photos Matt just showed me completely did me in, and now I can’t wait to see the De Luca clan again. It’s hard to reconcile what the feeling of seeing Matt and the pictures of his family do to me. I’m so happy for him, truly warms me to my core to see him gush over his gorgeous wife and kid, to be so confidently in love without a concern in the world. It also fills me with a touch of sadness, or maybe it is jealousy?

Shaking that off, immediately.

I won’t be jealous, I can’t be. I made a promise to myself I wouldn’t put myself in that situation.

But it makes me wonder how Matt does it. How he lives each day, with his heart belonging to another person, well a person and a child, who lives outside his body that could be taken, taking his heart with him and killing him. Causing him to live every day while not being alive. Because that is exactly what I saw love do. Killing them without taking them to heaven, or hell or the after, or wherever the fuck it is we go, instead it just takes our heart and soul and leaves us as empty shells having to live our days until it is decided it is our time to finally leave, too.

Familiar guilt sits heavy in my chest. Speaking of love, I haven’t spoken to my mom or younger sister Evie in a while. I can’t bring myself to. Every time I look into my mother’s eyes, I just see her grief. I see all the things she won’t say. That she wishes I would be home, closer to them, helping them in Chicago and not from another city. My sister pretends she is okay, but really, I know she just holds on to unresolved resentment at my leaving. I didn’t know how to explain that I needed to do this. Needed to go to the bigger city, set myself up so that I could be what they needed. So I could support them properly. Get Evie through her college degree and make sure Mom can finally retire. While I feel the guilt, grief is stronger, and until I have something to give them, to show them, I can’t bring myself to look them in the eyes.

Jesus Christ.

So much for a walk to clear the head.

Three weeks. That’s what it is. Three weeks with no sex. Not that it isn’t available, because I guess all I’d need to do is pull out SoulSwipe, or head to a bar, flash my smoulder, throw in a few choice compliments and well, the night will really just take care of itself. A wave of nausea rolls through me and I have instant regret over my thoughts, and this is exactly why I am in the middle of a dry spell.

Sex has become a transaction. Constantly torn between wanting—or apparently needing—a connection with someone, but also not wanting them close enough to cause emotional damage. Not wanting more than one night.

Sex turned into something I did to take away the sting of loneliness that, in the end, leaves me empty and hollow, anyway. I don’t know when this changed, and it is much to Caleb’s dissatisfaction, but the thought of meaningless sex and one-night stands just isn’t sitting right. I can’t bring myself to want it. And fuck do I wish I would snap out of it.

Fine, I will go to this 5th birthday party, because I am a fantastic friend, torture myself over coveting Matt and Ava’s happy family, and I will meet Caleb out at Bozzelli’s and finally put an end to this hiatus, repairing my brain to its normal settings.

No strings, casual, chill.

I can do that. How hard could it be?

Addison

The morning unfortunately arrives, and I peel myself from bed after a restless night full of skin prickling rage and utter self-loathing. I tossed, turned, shed enough tears to fill the Hudson River, and looped on enough thoughts conjured from deep within the dark spiraling recess of my mind.

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