Page 88 of Relapse

The memory of that night, the one we never spoke of, was always there beneath the surface of our every interaction. It was like a secret current tugging at me. I wanted to feel that close to her again, but the words were stuck in my throat, and I had no idea how to ask her about it without fear of ruining our shared moments together. Our interactions had gone back to normal, like how we used to hang out at school, and I wasn’t prepared for that. I didn’t want normal. Fuck normal.

I wanted to be who she needed most. I wanted to pleasure her in every way my mind invented each time I saw her.

Just sitting next to her was exquisite torture: the scent of her hair, the warmth radiating from her skin, all of these simple things brought back our night on the terrace, the way her body felt against me, the soft sounds she made, the way her neck and breasts looked with her head thrown back in ecstasy. It was a constant, low hum of desire beneath every conversation, a question I was too afraid to ask—did she feel it too?

And was it more than just a one night fling?

The questions were still fresh on my mind when our afternoon together took a turn with the news she shared with me.

“I’ll be leaving town for a bit.”

My eyes searched hers hastily. The panic that I felt rise into my chest took me off guard. “What? Why?”

“Both sides of my mother’s and father’s family are getting together to have a ceremony for my parents.” She answered.

And then I felt stupid. “Oh.”

“We are going to celebrate their lives. It will be held in the fields near where they both grew up.”

I tried my best to smile as well. “That’s going to be beautiful, Delane.”

She nodded, a weak smile meeting my gaze.

My hand found hers. “I’ll miss you.” I had to tell her. My thumb brushed over her wrist, down to her palm, and I felt her pulse jump.

“Noah, it’s only a week.”

“That’s too long.” My gaze dropped to her lips, and for a split second, I forgot everything but the urge to kiss her. I could remember so vividly how those lips tasted…how her gasp let me in deeper…

She was quiet, her facial features instantly draining of their color. I regretted opening my mouth and tried to focus.

“Delane,” I whispered. “What is it?”

Her eyes shimmered with newfound tears that threatened to spill over.

“In my heart,” she murmured sadly. “I have no desire to go.”

I squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“I haven’t actually said goodbye,” she whispered softly. “It’s like I can’t believe they’re actually gone, but I don’t want to continue lying to myself.”

“Wait until you are ready.” I encouraged.

“That would be never.” She answered with a bite to her tone.

I bit my lip, realizing instantly just how inconsiderate that came across. “I-I’m sorry…”

What an idiot, I scolded myself.

“No, I’m sorry,” She replied quickly. “Forgive my attitude. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It’s not your fault, Delane,” I murmured.

She hesitated, like there was something else she wanted to say, but instead her eyes drifted from mine to my lips. For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she leaned in and kissed me—soft, fleeting, but enough to leave behind an urgency within me. For more of her.

Before my hand could reach her face to draw her closer, she pulled away completely.

Dammit.