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Chapter Four
Isabel
August 6th…
My room is cleared of my stuff, my items in my bags, and my heart is pounding as I wait for Parker to get here. It was bittersweet to realize we were leaving on the same day, though our planes were at different times. Mine departs first and he agreed to wait with me, letting us prolong the inevitable until the last second. He’d then head to his gate.
As much as I’m going to miss Sizzle Beach, miss Parker, part of me is excited for the adventure I’m about to embark on.
Since my new position is in a different state, and Mom agreed to move with me, that requires packing. Nearing thirty years of stuff for me, and double that for her, means there’s a lot to wade through. It’ll be hard to leave my hometown, the house where I grew up, but for as many good memories as it has, there’s an almost equal amount of bad.
Dad’s death. The police knocking on our door to regrettably inform us that he’d died during a robbery at the convenience store he’d run to for milk and bread. Mom’s illness and the fear that she’d join him. Working two, and sometimes three, part-time jobs while attending college to keep us financially afloat when she could barely get out of bed due to her treatments.
The exhaustion that followed me throughout the day. The anxiety we’d never get ahead. The terror of possibly losing her, too. She made it, thank God, but now I’m losing someone just as precious.
Parker.
I just need to get through this. The next few days should be so consumed with cleaning out and up the house that I barely have time to think, let alone feel. And when either breaks past my wall, I’ll shove it down so deep an archaeologist will be needed to retrieve it.
They won’t find my heart, though.
Parker has that.
**Parker**
“Give it to me,” I say through clenched teeth, needing Isabel to come before I’ll let myself do the same. When I knocked earlier, she’d pulled me inside and led me to the bed. It was already made, but neither of us cared. We were too eager to muss it up again.
We needed this connection, these precious moments, before reality intruded and separated us.
“Take it,” she dares me as she glances over her shoulder and pushes her ass against me. This is our second round, the first being with her riding me to completion, draining me so much I wondered if I’d ever recover.
I did, of course, every part of me refusing to waste our last day together.
Grabbing her wrists, I use the leverage they give me to pound into her, wishing for a miracle to happen so I didn’t have to let her go. But I do, and I will, because it seems to be what she wants.
Even if it’s ripping me apart inside.
Isabel screams my name and I shout hers, barely refraining from declaring my love for her. From asking her to marry me. Begging her to never leave me.
The very thought has me coming, spilling in her and wishing it would bust through the latex and create another life.
We’d be connected forever then.
But it doesn’t. It holds strong and contains my seed, which I remove and throw away. Taking my dreams of a happily ever after with it.
**Isabel**
While Parker is in the bathroom disposing of the condom, I grab the note I’d written, tugging on it because my purse doesn’t seem to want to let it go. Picking up his shorts from the carpet, I shove it in a front pocket and pretend to act natural when he returns.
Even though neither of us have spoken of continuing this, I want him to know I’d like to. I just can’t do it face to face. Hence, the letter. I told him how happy he’s made me, how the time I spent with him were the best of my life, and that I’ll cherish the memories forever.
That I want to see him again, to have a true relationship, in whatever capacity he can give me. If it’s only a weekend here and there or frequent phone calls as we wait for our schedules to mesh, that I’ll take it.
And then I confessed that I love him.
I ended it with my number, putting the ball in his court. If he feels the same, he’ll use it. If not, well, then at least I’ll know instead of always wondering what if.
**Parker**
