AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It wasn’t Miguel I wanted, it was closeness and he had provided it.
If that were true, what the hell just happened in there?
For the three weeks we’d been back in each other’s lives, Miguel and I had grown closer. We’d gone out for dinner, hung out with the rest of our friends, had late night talks on the phone, and spent the occasional evening at my place wearing our most casual clothes and playing video games. He’d brought laughter back into my life with his chilled out ways and he’d started to creep into my thoughts when he wasn’t around.
“You can tell me to go away if you want to.”
Miguel’s voice made my breath catch again. I knew he’d follow me, but I wasn’t ready yet. Hadn’t figured out what to do or say. I raised my head. He stood close to the doorway, barefoot just like me, hands in his pockets and his head tilted slightly to one side.
“I can’t do this, Miguel.”
“I didn’t ask you for anything.”
“I know, I know. But this… I don’t know, our friendship, it’s all messed up and-”
Miguel stepped towards me and wrapped his fingers around the tops of my arms. Calm spread through me from his touch. Light. Gentle.
“I don’t know what just happened in there but I do know that being around you has been the best thing for me, and I think you feel the same way. I think we need each other, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”
I shook my head. “There’s something very wrong about us almost kissing.”
“We slept together, Freya. We’ve done the kissing thing.”
“That was different.” I shrugged out of his hold and turned my back on him, pacing. “That night was weird, and we were mad at each other and we-” I gave up, not knowing what else to say. We’d done this. Had this conversation over and over, and we’d both accepted the reasons. Both knew they weren’t good enough. Both knew we wanted to cling to each other and heal each other’s pain. But that didn’t make it okay. Far from it.
“I don’t know what to do here.” Miguel sighed. “I feel like I can’t win no matter what. I’m not gonna tell you I didn’t want to kiss you in there, because I did, and it kills me. It kills me because I shouldn’t want this, and I don’t know why I want it now when all we ever were was friends. Something’s changed and I hate it because I know it’s wrong.”
I tilted my head back, casting my eyes skyward as if an answer might come to me from above. Hell, if anyone could have used a miracle, it was me.
The truth was, the answers had to be come from me. I’d relied on so many people for so many things but nobody could solve this for me. Nobody knew my feelings, and how would I have begun to explain them? Couldn’t I just slip back into the land of denial and pretend none of this mattered? That sleeping with Miguel was a perfectly acceptable part of grieving and that we’d move on from it without any emotional scars?
“Maybe we should stay away from each other for a while,” I whispered, my gaze still on the dark sky above.
Silence. The longest silence I could remember.
“Miguel.”
“If that’s what you want, we’ll do it. We’ll see each other less. We’ll just be colleagues.”
Except we won’t because we have this enormous thing between us! I let out a growl, and spun to face him again.
“What other choice is there?” I asked, my eyes filling with tears as I stared at him. “Tell me what other choice we have.”
Miguel’s deep brown eyes glistened, forcing my own tears to spill. “Well, the other choice is that we don’t change anything. We keep seeing each other whenever we want to and just let this play out.”
I shook my head again. “We have to fight it.”
“Why?”
“You know why!”
Miguel ate up the distance between us in a couple of long strides and cupped my face in his hands, his fingers firm but gentle on my cheeks. “And you know it doesn’t work that way. You try to fight something, it gets stronger. You fight harder, and it starts to take over every part of your life until you’re hiding from something that might not be as scary as you made it. This scares me, Freya. The way I’ve been feeling about you scares me. It makes me hate myself. I know every reason this is wrong, but I can’t stop it. I’m tired of trying.”
The pain in his eyes told me he was every bit as confused and scared and conflicted as I was and I leaned my forehead against his. His hands slid from my cheeks down to my shoulders and his thumbs linked behind my neck.
“I can’t date you,” I whispered. “I can’t.”
“I’m not asking for that. I’m just asking you to be honest. I’m asking you to let this be whatever it is.”
