Page 69 of As the Years Pass
Just like all the others.
I see Adam everywhere. I always have. Not just in the world, but on me.
I see his kisses on my neck, his fingers on my chest, my ribs.
I see his hand in mine and his head on my shoulder.
I see his arms around my waist, his legs tangled with mine.
Adam is everywhere.
He burrowed into my veins and left a ghost of himself when he left.
Now he’s here. Kissing me as if all the years between us didn’t happen.
“Emmet,” he whispers, his lips millimeters away from mine.
I take in a slow breath and let it out even slower.
His hands come up to cup my cheeks, gently brushing his fingers along my skin.
“I care,” he says softly.
I grit my teeth. “It’s not enough.”
My heart and my head war with each other, the same way they always do when it comes to Adam.
My head, we’ve been here and done this. We know where this ends.
My heart, it doesn’t care. It only knows what it wants, what it craves.
I’ve always known somewhere deep down that Adam still cared about me. Maybe it’s what kept me hung up on him for so long, and maybe that’s a bad thing. But I knew. I knew when he left me that night that it wasn’t what he truly wanted—it’s what he thought he was supposed to do.
And that made it hurt ten times more. It’s what kept me up at night, wondering if he regretted his choice. Wondering if he would come back to me.
I know Adam cares, but he never did. He never came back.
“It isn’t enough,” I whisper.
“What?” he says, his voice raspy.
“It isn’t enough,” I say more firmly, grabbing his wrists and bringing his hands to his sides.
I thought I wanted this. I thought this is where I wanted us to go, and maybe I do. No, I definitely do. But it can’t be like this. It just can’t. My heart can’t take it. I can’t have a drunken hook-up with him. That’s where I draw the line. We both deserve more than that.
“Emmet,” he says again, this time softer, his eyes meeting mine. “I want you.”
Those words… I’ve wanted to hear those words for so long. There have been so many nights I’ve begged and pleaded for him to come back to me and say exactly that.
Which is why my heart splits in two when I speak the next words.
“For how long?”
It’s a crazy thing, the mind. It contradicts itself all the time; does what it wants to do.
I finally have what I want, yet I won’t accept it? All for what? What kind of nonsense is this?
Maybe this was all a mistake. Not just coming here, but going to Seattle. I should have stayed here in California. I shouldn’t have bought the bar. I should have moved on when I was eighteen and Adam first left me.
