They weren’t teenagers like he and Juniper had been when they’d started dating in high school. This thing with Tessa hadn’t started with a bar hook-up like Dean’s ill-fated time with Lara… and like too many of the women before Lara.
He and Tessa had started as friends and built upon that until they’d finally reached this point. The point where his heart clenched just because Tessa had rolled over in her sleep to face him, her hand landing on his bare stomach.
Maybe this was the right way to do it. The key to a long-lasting happy relationship. He wouldn’t know. He’d never had one of those… but his parents did. His grandparents had too. It wasn’t as if his life was completely devoid of examples of happy couples.
She made that adorable little sound. The one he’d learned she’d make when she was sleepy and content. Comfortable. With him.
He’d been a stranger to her a week ago. Now, he was the one she reached for in her dreams.
She’d been a stranger to him a week ago too. Now, she was the one he couldn’t wait to share good news with first. The one who made his pulse speed when she’d see him and smile. The one who had him counting down the hours until he had to leave for the airport... and that was the problem.
He wasn’t counting the hours in a good way, like how he and the guys had a countdown to the end of deployments. This felt more like watching a doomsday clock while knowing that when the time reached zero he’d be leaving her and this happy little bubble they’d created would burst. And if experience was any guide, they’d never get back to this place again.
Her fingers twitched against his skin. Dean reached down and laid his hand over hers.
She made a happy little sound in her throat that had his heart fluttering. Snuggling deeper into the pillow, she smiled in her sleep, then slipped back into the slow steady breaths of slumber.
His stomach twisted hard enough that if it hadn’t been empty because they’d chosen sex over dinner he might have feared this feeling would have him running to the bathroom to puke. He hated that their impending parting was robbing him of enjoying their final time together. Hated that this over-the-moon happiness that made him feel like he was a kid again was inseparable from the agonizing pain of having to leave her.
Dammit.
Maybethiswas the real reason he didn’t do relationships. Not, as he’d always told himself and anyone else who asked, to avoid the inevitable messy end. But to avoid the agony and misery of a happy beginning knowing it would eventually, inevitably, end. Because this right here, this happiness with Tessa, hurt like hell.
He stiffened at the realization that he was in for a whole world of hurt. All because he’d fallen for Tessa.
Tessa must have sensed something. His muscles tensing. The stress that had his nerves tight as a bow string. The sudden need to get up and move. She stirred next to him.
“Mmm. What time is it?” Tessa mumbled.
“Early. Go back to sleep. I’ll call you later today.”
Today.Their last day together.
“Okay.” She barely got the word out before she rolled over and presumably fell back to sleep.
Dean envied her. He hadn’t slept well since falling for Tessa. He had a feeling he might not sleep well again for a good long while.
He was booked on the first flight out of Albany tomorrow morning.
It wouldn’t even be Tessa seeing him off. His parents were driving him. His mother had insisted, even though it meant leaving the house at four a.m. for his flight. Not that it mattered. Tessa couldn’t have driven him since she didn’t own a car. In fact, he wasn’t certain she even had a license. He’d never thought to ask.
There’d be no movie-worthy send off. No kisses and tears as the lovers parted. Not for him.
He slipped out of bed as Tessa snored ever so softly and gathered his clothes in one hand, carrying it all to the bathroom to dress.
His mind spun as he sat on the familiar old sofa from his parents’ house—another surreal tie between him and Tessa—and tied his sneakers.
He’d made out with Juniper on this sofa when they’d been kids in school sneaking around. More than made out, actually. In hindsight, giving this to Tessa had probably been a bad idea.
But he and Tessa were adults. Not teens like he and Juniper had been. Kids who conflated the drama and the fighting of their volatile relationship with love. Tessa was different. They weredifferent together. Maybe if he kept telling himself that, he’d start to believe it.
On his way out, Dean stopped at the kitchen. He reached up to the cabinet above the sink, took down one of the three mismatched mugs from the shelf and filled it with water from the tap.
Thirsty, he guzzled the contents, refilled it and downed a second cup before washing the mug and setting it back on the shelf.
His hand stilled on the knob of the cabinet door he’d just closed as he realized he knew where to look for all of her meager belongings in this room. The bottle opener in the drawer next to the sink. The spare dishtowel and single potholder in the drawer below that. The stash of plastic shopping bags she saved, stuffed under the sink to be used as trash bags.
He knew she had mostly empty ice cube trays in the freezer that she rarely remembered to refill but he always did. Knew that she recycled cans and bottles diligently. That she liked folding the laundry but hated having to put the sheets and pillowcases back on the bed. And he knew all that from just one week.
