Page 45 of Before I Lost You

“We should go,” he whispers, voice trembling. “I’m tired, and it’s getting late.”

I swallow hard, over and over, trying to keep bile down. I fucked up big time, and I’m not even sure how to fix it. He’s freaking the fuck out. I can see it plain as day. My plan was to wait for him for the big declarations, so what the fuck made me open my big mouth? I didn’t even think, just blurted it out. It feels like I’ve been holding on to this secret for ages. I thought I’d be relieved to finally let it out. Instead, I’ve never been more terrified.

I clearly made a mistake. I knew he’d freak out, and I shouldn’t have done it. Can I even blame him for his reaction? The same reaction I knew he’d have? I knew he wasn’t ready. He’s not fucking ready.

Fuck.

It doesn’t hurt any less to know he might not feel it, too, though.

“I’m sorry,” I say, voice trembling. “I shouldn’t have said that. I—”

Kenneth’s bottom lip trembles, and he shakes his head once. So I shut up, and then I get up and offer my hand to him.

He doesn’t take it.

Kenneth gets up slowly, grabbing the towel and shaking the sand out of it. He folds it neatly and stuffs it back into our beach bag, which I silently take from him. I hand him his shoes from the sand and grab my own, and we both walk barefoot toward the entrance. Once we reach a sidewalk, we slide our sandals back on.

The hotel is within walking distance of the beach, so we didn’t bring the car. We make our way back in silence, and while I want to say something, anything, to fix this, I stay quietinstead. He doesn’t look at me once, just stares straight ahead, while I steal glances at him every few seconds. I’ve never felt this helpless, and quite frankly, this fucking confused. For some stupid reason, I thought he’d say it back when I finally confessed how I’ve been feeling. I thought he felt the same. The fact that he doesn’t hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. It feels like he took a knife to my heart and stabbed it right in the middle.

As we get closer to the hotel, I try to convince myself that maybe this is moving too fast for him. Yeah, that has to be it. We’ve only been together for two months, and maybe he doesn’t feel it back yet. But that doesn’t mean he never will. I’m not sure if that thought hurts more or makes me feel relieved. By the pain in my chest, I’m going to say it hurts way more. Because he doesn’t love me. And now he’s so scared that I said it, he’s probably going to break up with me and never ever love me at all.

Fuck.

I fucked this all the way up.

The silence is deafening as we enter our hotel room, and Kenneth goes straight to the bathroom and locks the door, shutting me out. I drop the beach bag in the closet, then strip down to my underwear and wait for Ken to be done taking a shower. He comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist, still not looking at me. Deciding to give him some space, I don’t say anything and go into the bathroom to clean myself up, too.

I was right earlier. I have sand in unholy places, and it takes longer than I thought it would to clean it all out. I stand under the spray of the water after I’m done, though, too scared to go back to him. I feel the tears sting my eyes, and even though I take a deep breath to try to stop them, they still fall down my cheeks, mixing with the water spraying down on me. I bite my lip to keep quiet, silently sniffling as I think about how to act now. I could ignore the huge elephant in the room and try to talk to him asif this never happened—but he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me in the first place. Or I could just give him some space and go to sleep. Wait for him to talk to me. I wonder if he’ll keep me waiting for the rest of my life now.

Shutting off the water, I grab my towel and dry myself thoroughly before going back into the room. The lamp is on by what is clearly now my side of the bed, and Kenneth is facing away, his back to me. He’s not moving, but I highly doubt that he’s sleeping. His body is stiff, and even though I can’t hear his heart beating, I wonder if it sounds like thunder in his ears the way mine does right now. I wonder if he feels like someone tore his heart out, too.

Once I put my boxer briefs on, I sit on the edge of the bed and stare into nothing for a while. I hear him move, rustling the sheets, but don’t look at him. Instead, I reach for the lamp and turn off the light. It takes me another minute to lie down, and I make sure to stay as far away as possible from him, so I’m basically on the edge of the mattress. My mind won’t stop spinning, and it’s louder than ever. I think about apologizing for a stupid fucking second, then decide against it. What would I even say? I’m sorry for falling in love with you?

“Are you scared?” I finally whisper, and I feel him stiffen even more, even though I’m on the opposite side of the bed. “Or just done?”

Kenneth breathes in sharply, but doesn’t say anything at all.

No fucking reply.

Just an endless silence I can’t take anymore.

The tears fall hot and quick down my face, trailing over the bridge of my nose and soaking into the pillow. I can’t breathe worth a shit, so I’m sure he knows I’m crying, but I can’t really bring myself to care anymore. I hope he hears me. How pathetic I am. Because now that we’re done—

The bed dips with his shifting weight, and suddenly, a strong arm wraps around my waist and tugs me back. His warm chest presses against my back, and my heart begins to pound.

“I’m sorry, Conrad. I-I freaked out. I’m so fucking scared. I wasn’t ready yet…” Kenneth whispers, and my chest burns from the lack of oxygen in my lungs. “You surprised me, and it scared me. I didn’t know what to do. I—please forgive me.”

I nod.

But still, I can’t help but notice he didn’t say the only thing I really wanted to hear.

He didn’t tell me he loved me back.

Just said he’s sorry.

I close my eyes tightly and try to calm my breathing, trying my best to relax my body. Trying my damn hardest to stop being so fucking weak. After a while, Kenneth falls asleep with his nose buried in the hair at the back of my head. But I’m not that lucky.

No.