Page 64 of The Fall

Pure devastation.

I used to think it was a blessing to remember my dreams, especially the ones where I took flight. They were exhilarating. Now I looked at the recollection of them as more of a curse. They were vivid, and sometimes they hurt and could ruin an entire day of my life. Today, in particular, not all the soap and water in the world could wash away the sick feeling that lingered.

I knew exactly where that dream stemmed from.

I was covered in sweat. I looked through Josh’s blinds as the sun peeked through the buildings of downtown Dallas. I made my way to his shower, staying as quiet as possible. I didn’t want him to see me this way.

I heard the shower door open and greeted Josh with a cold-shouldered “Hi.”

“Good morning,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist. I pulled away from him and immediately felt him stiffen behind me. I’d denied him sex after the party and blamed a headache as the reason for my early retreat to bed. But as of this morning, I was done lying.

“Dallas, please let me touch you,” he demanded, turning me to face him. “I haven’t seen you in weeks. I miss you. I need to feel you.”

“Josh, we need to talk,” I said, pulling myself out of the shower and grabbing a towel. I looked to see his face fall as he followed me out.

“It’s him. It’s Dean, isn’t it?” Josh said, wrapping a towel around his waist.

“No, it’s us,” I said softly, unable to look at him as he stood before me.

“What is it, Dallas? I’m a patient man, but I can only handle so much. I saw the way you looked at him at that party. And what in the hell is wrong with us?” he asked, his voice growing more impatient.

“I’m sorry. This just isn’t going to work,” I offered as I turned to get my clothes.

“No fucking way, Dallas. You don’t get to pull this crap on me and walk away.” He rounded the corner and caught my arm.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been thinking a lot about us, and I just don’t see a future,” I said, shoving my legs into my scrubs as quickly as humanly possible.

“This isn’t about our future. No, this is about some fucking guy that wants his way back into your pants and has got you confused,” he argued, pulling my shirt away from me as I tried to put it on. I tugged at the end, and we ended up in a slight tug-of-war, which I lost. I sat on the bed in defeat as I stared at my feet.

“Look at me, Dallas,” he commanded, his voice hoarse with emotion. “If you’re going to rip my fucking heart out, the least you can do is look at me,” he reasoned. I looked up to see his face filled with hurt. “I was going to ask you to be my wife.”

I looked at him evenly. “And what would I have said, Josh? I already told you I didn’t want to move in with you. Why would you even think about marriage?”

He picked up the clock that was next to his bed and threw it against the wall.

“I knew this was going to happen the night I saw you at that fucking restaurant!” He fumed around me, pacing back and forth as I stared at the now-ruined drywall.

“Well, I didn’t,” I said softly. “This has nothing to do with him and everything to do with the way I feel about you.”

“Bullshit, stop fucking lying to me. Did you fuck him?” he asked, standing over me.

“Of course not!” I barked back, taking my shirt from the floor and putting it on. “And this is not about him. This is about what you deserve, and it’s not me. I can’t give you marriage. I can’t even give you half of that,” I said, trying to reason my way through it.

The truth was there was no right way to break up with someone. My girlfriend Cammie once told me that in a relationship, one always loves the other a little more. And the truth for me was, though I never wanted to be in the wrong position again, I knew the reward of being the one hopelessly in love.

There was no comparison, and my heart refused to settle.

I should’ve done this a lot sooner. I hated the way I knew I was making Josh feel more than the idea of the breakup. I knew better. I had done this to him. I had strung him along, and I needed to face whatever hurt I caused him. I knew this pain, and it surpassed everything else I’d ever felt.

He stopped his pacing to face me. “I didn’t just want to get married. It wasn’t something I had to have. I wanted to marry you. There’s a big fucking difference.” He stood before me, lifting my chin to tilt my head so I was forced to meet his watery eyes. “Don’t do this. Please, baby. I love you,” he pleaded.

“I don’t love you the same way,” I said softly but firmly. “And I think you know that. I think you’ve known it for a while,” I said, seeing the truth in his eyes.

“So what if I did? I don’t care,” he said, placing a kiss on my jaw, his arms surrounding me.

“You will, and it’s not fair to me, either.” I stepped out of his grasp, then pulled my hair through a tie. “Josh, I’m sorry. I should have done this sooner. I had no right to—”

“Just go,” he said, walking toward his bathroom.

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