Page 65 of Something Forever

Who am I kidding? I couldn’t have ignored her even if I’d tried.

Whitney is… unavoidable. She’s woven herself into the fabric of my life, more and more by the day, and now she’s buried somewhere deep inside my chest. If I want things to stay even remotely normal between us, I can’t afford to keep her there.

Last night was everything. The sight of her coming undone in the mirror, the feel of her clenching against me. I thought I couldn’t get enough after the first time, but after last night, I don’t know how I’m supposed to stay away.

Even though she said to my face that she’s not interested. That she doesn’t want me.

Was I too much?

My stomach drops at the thought that I might have pushed Whitney too far or made her do something she didn’t want to do. She seemed as into it as I was, but what if I misread something? What if she can hardly stand to be in the same room as me?

That’s certainly how it felt when we first met. Hate at first sight. Still, I thought in the months since we’d returned from Vegas, something had changed with us. As bizarre as it was that we were, in fact, married, we seemed to get along well. I actually looked forward to coming back to the apartment at night, to seeing her meticulously studying her design plans for the salon or making cocktails in the kitchen.

I thought she’d started to see me — the real me.

I thought she liked what she saw.

Guess it turns out she just wanted a good time. That’s all I ever am. A good time, a fun night out, but when it comes to the real shit, when it comes to real life, nobody wants me.

Just like Luke.

If I’d been a better friend, if I’d been someone he could rely on, someone who people trusted, he’d have talked to me about what he was going through. He wouldn’t have felt so alone.

He wouldn’t be gone.

When I get to Abe’s, Darius is there taking chairs down from the tables and setting up. After I get the bar stocked and ready, he nods his head towards the backdoor as if to say get going. I step into the back alley behind the bar for a smoke, finding Jackson sitting on the stoop with a comic in his hands.

“Hey,” I call out, and his head snaps up at my voice. “I thought you were done skipping school,” I say, unable to keep the accusation out of my tone. He ignores my question, turning his gaze back down to his comic.

Inhaling my cigarette, I shake my head. “What are you reading?”

His round glasses slide down his face as he holds the comic up. X-Men.

“Doctor Strange is the best.”

“Yep,” he agrees, barely glancing in my direction.

“So… about school?—”

He puts the comic down, rolling his eyes. “I finished all my homework already. Who cares if I miss sometimes?”

“Homework only counts if you’re there to turn it in. What do your parents think about all this?”

“My dad doesn’t care,” is his empty reply.

Ambling over to his side, I sit down on the stoop next to him, then nudge his shoulder. “You know, me and your brother both think you’ve got a solid future ahead of you. I know it can feel like your dreams are silly or impossible, but they aren’t.”

He’s quiet, and I can only hope that he’s considering my words, that perhaps I am getting through to him as Darius hoped.

Pushing through the voice in my head telling me that this is useless, I continue on. “You still have plenty of time to submit applications, and if money is an issue, there’s a lot of organizations that can help with fees and all that stuff. I can help you, if you want.”

He doesn’t respond, so I press on my knees and lift myself up. Glancing down at him, he meets my gaze, his expression unreadable.

“Thanks,” he says eventually. “I’ll think about it.”

“You have my number, right? Text me anytime.”

He nods, and I can sense that the conversation is over, so I head back inside. When I get back behind the bar, Darius crosses over to me, his expression hopeful.

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