Page 27 of Unraveled

It was tempting to join her, but I knew she had to get back home and then to the airport. At least, I assumed she was going to the airport. After disposing of the condom, I pulled on my sleep pants, brushed my teeth, and went downstairs to start the coffee.

I thought I was prepared to watch her walk down, her bag in hand, but it turned out I wasn’t. “I, um, made coffee.” Shit, I already had a lump in my throat.

“Thanks. But my stomach is too unsettled for it at the moment.”

She’d never turned down coffee before. Maybe she was as troubled as I was at the idea she was leaving. She stepped into my embrace, her arms going around my waist.

“I’ll miss this. I’ll miss you,” I said.

“I’ll miss you, too,” she breathed.

I kissed her, wishing she didn’t have to leave.

“Stay.” Despite my intention not to utter the word out loud, it left my lips as I pulled away.

Her eyes went wide. “Kellan, I can’t.”

I winced. I’d told her from the start that I understood she was leaving. Now here I was, trying to change the rules. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. Rather, I should’ve said I wish you could stay. But I’ve been thinking—”

“About?”

“What if I could visit you? I don’t care if it’s across the world or in some remote place. Maybe in a few months I could come.” I was up to my eyeballs with Carly’s parents’ home and other new work, but I could manage to get away for a couple of days. “We could stay in touch via Skype, text, phone calls, write letters, email—whatever it takes to keep talking to you.”

She’d be gone for a year. It seemed like a long time, and yet if I thought about it, the past few years had gone by in a blur. I’d never believed in long-distance relationships. To be fair, though, I’d never attempted one.

I could see the tears forming in her eyes, giving me both hope and dread.

“I believe you think you want to do this. But it’s an entire year. In that time, you’ll most likely find someone else or, hell, rekindle something with the ex.”

“That won’t happen.” Of that I was absolutely confident.

“Either way, we can’t start a long-distance relationship when we’ve only known each other one week. It wouldn’t be fair.”

No. It wouldn’t. To either of us. “So, we can play that by ear. But what would be unfair is to cut things off now. There’s a reason it’s been so perfect between us. Tell me you’ve ever formed this sort of connection with someone in only a few days.”

She appeared reluctant to tell me but then admitted, “I haven’t. This last week has been one of the best of my life. But maybe it felt so good because we both knew it would be ending? I’m not perfect, and I doubt you are, either, but this week seemed so because we could each be the best version of ourselves, knowing we wouldn’t have to keep it up past today.”

“Maybe that’s true. But don’t you think it’s worth staying in touch as friends at the very least?” I hoped I didn’t sound as desperate as I was feeling.

She didn’t seem to share the sentiment. “A clean break would be easier.”

A punch to the gut would’ve felt better. “Give me an email address. Somewhere I can write. You can take your time and choose whether or not to respond.”

She bit her lip, looking both vulnerable and unsure. “Okay. Just email.”

I took out my phone to type in her email address when I realized her earlier argument against a long-distance relationship had left out something. “You’re worried I might meet someone, but what about you? You might do the same thing. For all I know, you’re going to work overseas as a government contractor in the Middle East, where the ratio is thirty men to each woman, and you’ll be courted by dozens of guys.”

Instead of laughing, she took my phone and typed in her information for me. “Not even close. Now kiss me before I start crying and am late.”

I put every emotion I was feeling into our kiss as I fought the urge to say something stupid. Such as repeating my urge for her to stay. Not only would she resent me for it, but I also wasn’t quite sure what I was offering. Stay and date me longer? That wouldn’t exactly be an incentive for her to give up her dream. But was it her dream? Something was humming in the back of my brain that I couldn’t quite put a finger on.

She broke the kiss first, stepping back and giving me a broken smile. “I’ve gotta go.”

“I know.” Fuck, this was hard.

I put on a hoodie and insisted on walking her out to her car. Once there, I put her bag on the passenger seat and kissed her one final time. “Safe travels, okay. And I’ll email you. Send you pictures so you don’t forget about me.”

“As if that’s possible. Goodbye, Kellan. You are evidence that the best things that happen aren’t always planned.”