Page 32 of One Last Chance

He exhales deeply and takes a step back. "God, why does this always happen to me," he mutters while hanging his head down, hands resting on his hips.

I feel fucking awful and I sympathize with him more than he could ever know. Usually, I’m the one being rejected, so this is beyond strange to me. "I'm sorry. I never should've… I was just… I can't." I keep mumbling, hoping that any of my words can make the embarrassment and hurt he feels sting a little less.

I don't know if it's this shitty situation or the horrible realization that I can't get over Rowland even though our relationship barely started that causes me to get all jittery.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"It's-it's fine," Aaron says hesitantly as he runs his hand through his hair.

Any other time, I would have liked him. I would've enjoyed his company and this little carnal distraction. I would've let him enjoy himself and give me meaningless pleasure in turn, but now, there's a barrier inside me making that impossible.

"Just… Don't worry about it." He tries to smile, to act like it means nothing, even though I can tell it does. But what is there to say? What else is there for me to do?

We share an awkward glance before he nods and makes another step away, nervously looking around the empty alley. "You need…um, need me to—"

"I'm okay. I-I'm fine getting home, thanks," I say quickly. I'm grateful for him not pushing it further—not forcing himself onto me like someone else might—and I want to voice that, but Aaron sharply clears his throat, rubs the back of his neck, and starts walking away. The situation is messy enough already for me to subject him to more. "Sorry," I whisper, unsure if he even hears me.

And here I am. Alone, again.

I take a deep breath, drawing in that unexplainable, cool scent of the night city. There are no stars when I look towards the sky, only endless darkness.

Closing my eyes with a tired sigh, I lean my head back against the wall and fight the tears that are pushing their way out. This is ridiculous. I know it is. But my heart feels like an erupting volcano of emotions I can’t control. It’s like I’m a freaking teenager again.

I slide down with a bitter smile on my lips, wishing upon the stars hidden somewhere far above for things to be different for once.

If only I was the type to believe that.

If only it were so easy…

Chapter 11

Rowland

I open my eyes and for a moment I’m confused why I see the light outside.

No alarm? Right, it’s Friday. And the school holidays.Thankfully for me, what would have usually meant gettingviolently woken up by Mac a few hours early was instead a peaceful sleep, since Shawn’s school break happened to be at the same time.

That kid loves no one more than his big brother. Him leaving for college has been hard on Mac, so it’s good Shawn is finally back home for a while.

With a deep exhale, I stretch out on the bed. It’s been a while since I overslept. My back feels tight, so I sit up and do some more stretching. I hear voices and TV from downstairs. Mother said she would come today. Is she already here?

I get up, rubbing my face. As I try to put myself together in the bathroom, I notice how disheveled I look. I need to shave. The longer my facial hair gets, the more I look like Dad, meaning I look ten years older.

Work has consumed me lately, or rather, I consumed myself in it.

After a shower and general cleanup, I put on some clothes and pause by my phone sitting on my bedside table. My fingers twitch in some impulse to reach for it, but I clench my teeth and walk out of the room instead. I push the dull pain down. Away.

He hasn’t messaged, and he won’t. That much is clear. It took me a while to see, but eventually I did. Ever since our last date, after making sure I was okay, Dayton’s messages got progressively more detached. What was a smooth stream of welcoming conversation before became messages with less and less opportunity to respond and keep it going.

I’m angry at myself for still being hung up about it, and even more angry for causing it in the first place. There’s no one else to blame but me.

Enough pity, I order myself. Walking out onto the landing, I take a deep breath, settle my mind, and straighten my back. The lovely scent of pancakes comes to me as I walk down the stairs. Mother and Shawn are by the stove, with all theingredients messily spread out across the counter, chatting about something.

I focus on their conversation over the screaming of Mac’s cartoon.

“He was never like this before, right? Not even after Mom. He held it together in front of us at least. I know I’ve been gone, but…come on. This isn’t like him.”

Mom sighs, shaking her head. “I know. I think he really cared for that young man. I wouldn’t think it would affect him this much. But what can I do? I've tried everything. ”

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