We were engaged in a frustrating dance where I’d ask the important questions and he would ignore me completely.
Once on the elevator, I hit the button for the third floor, staring at the ceiling as we began to make our decent. Yoss didn’t say anything else.
Neither did I.
He refused my help getting back into bed and I didn’t push it. He seemed upset. Frustrated. I didn’t really understand what had prompted the drastic mood shift and I was too emotionally exhausted to question it.
Talking about Gabby had left me open and raw. Kissing Yoss had rendered me oozing and vulnerable. I needed to leave before he inflicted more damage.
“I’ll check in with you before I leave,” I told Yoss as he lay back against his pillows, clearly tired. I felt guilty for letting him do so much when he was still recovering.
“You don’t have to. I’ll be fine. Just go home,” he said as I turned to leave.
I hesitated, hurt by his dismissal. “Okay.” That’s all I could say. Even though I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to scream and cry and yell. The numbness was gone. I was all emotion. Too much emotion.
But I couldn’t give it to him. Not yet.
“I’m sorry, Imi.” His apology whispered in my ears as I left the room. But it was the words that followed that burrowed deep.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be who you deserved.”
I stopped just before opening the door.
“I’m sorry I believed that you already were,” I responded softly.
I left, not sure if I imagined the sound of his sobs.
Fifteen Years Ago
Summer felt endless. Warm days. Cool nights. Toes dipped in the river. Swimming in the current.
Drying in the grass and laughing with new friends.
Sunsets and stories.
Holding hands and stolen kisses.
It sounded perfect.
It wasn’t.
Far from it.
Summer was also dark corners and silent secrets. It was falling in love with a boy who was trying to keep himself from crumbling.
We were homeless. Living in a dirty warehouse falling asleep to the sounds of crying every single night hoping that the next day would be better than the one before it.
It was ugly.
It was real.
But there were moments that were almost beautiful. It was impossible to be with Yoss and not see the hope in the middle of so much misery.
His lips were warm on mine. I tried to ignore the taste of blood on my tongue from where his skin was split. I ran my fingers over a new burn on his arm. It was small, circular, like the end of a cigarette.
He had been gone all night. I had woken up to an empty bed and a stomach full of fear.
But then he showed up before sunrise and I was all right again.
