Page 95 of Light Up The Night
And that’s another reason I'm not sleeping for shit—I spent a week in heaven, going to sleep every night with Cadence's soft,naked, warm body in my arms. Yeah, she always sleeps naked; it’s fucking glorious.
I saw my future in that week with her, and I fucking want it.
I want her.
I want life with her.
The days seem to go by fast, but the weeks slowly.
OCTOBER
The more timethat passes without her, the more unhinged I feel at her absence. Which is ridiculous, I know. We spent less than seventy-two hours together, yet I feel like I know her better than anyone except maybe Fee, Cole, and Nyx. There's a distinct “before” and “after” in my life: before Cadence, and after.
I dream about her.
In some of them, she's just looking at me with those deep green eyes full of love and affection and tenderness, and her hair is all in her eyes, and she's smiling at me like I'm the only person in the world.
The rest? I wake up hard as a rock just about every night, having dreamed about Cadence doing all sorts of wicked and delicious things with me, some which we did and some which we haven't…yet.
I'll tell you one thing—my right hand is getting a lot more action than it has since I was a teenager. Even that is tricky, though—I'm conflicted about thinking about her in that context. Using her like that.
She's…fuck,specialis absolutely the wrong fucking word.
Precious.
Not just some cheap hookup.
Not jerk-off fodder for my horny-as-fuck brain.
Eventually, by the end of October, I swear off masturbation entirely because it's just not worth the release; it never does anything to reduce my tension anyway.
Which means that my newfound goodness is tested frequently, since a sexually frustrated Riley can be a real dick.
NOVEMBER 1st
My phone ringsat three in the morning, jarring me out of a wildly erotic dream in which Cadence was repeating her truly earth-shattering oral performance.
I peer at the screen, but the ID just shows a bizarrely long string of numbers. I debate killing the call, but answer on a whim. “H’lo?"
"Riley? It is me—Cadence. Cadie."
My heart stops. I'm suddenly and fully awake. "Whoa, hey! Hi! God, it's good to hear your voice. How are you?"
There's a long pause, and I hear a shaky breath, and a sniffle. "It has been…much more difficult than I anticipated. I…ugh! I do not have long—this is a borrowed phone. Mine was destroyed months ago. I just…I miss you, Riley. I simply had to call and tell you that. I could not bear you thinking I'd forgotten."
I’d…
A contraction. I don't call attention to it, though—I just file it away as odd.
"I think about you all day, every day." I sigh. "I dream about you."
"Oh, Riley. I am sorry to call you in this state, I just…I just lost my eighth patient today alone. There are so many…so many.I can't save so many of them. Often, all I can do is make them comfortable and witness their passing."
"Jesus, honey. How are you coping with all that?"
"Some days are better than others." A heavy sigh. "Today is a not so good day. Gosh, I am terrible. The first time I call you in four months, and I am a weeping disaster. I just…I needed to hear your voice."
“Don’t be sorry for calling me. I’m here, sweetheart," I whisper. "I'm so sorry it's so hard."
