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The space grows quiet again.
She shuffles over and grabs a seat on the edge of the bed, ripping open her snack bags. She nibbles away, alternating bites of chips and chocolate and ice cream like the adorable weirdo she is.
I lie down on the dusty floor, propped up on one elbow, and stare mindlessly into the fire I lit a few minutes ago. I rip open a bag of beef jerky, and we eat our snacks in silence. The only sounds come from the crunch of us chewing and the crackling of the wood burning fire across the room.
I’m reaching into my jerky bag, rustling around for the perfect sized bite when a small rueful laugh comes from Alana.
I turn around, shifting my weight, to look at her. She’s sitting there with her golden hair coming down around her shoulders in waves. She’s changed back into the T-shirt she slept in last night, leaving miles and miles of toned legs exposed.
“Why are you laughing?” I ask her.
She continues laughing softly for a moment, before wiping at the corner of her eye. I half-wonder if we’re both struggling with a bit of cabin fever already. “Meghan was joking just a couple days ago that she wanted to toss me and you onto a boat in the middle of the ocean and force us to talk.”
“Huh. Really?” I smile tiredly. “Jasper said he’d lock me and you in a broom closet to work out our issues, if he could.”
Alana bites down on her swollen bottom lip and I’m flooded with the memory of kissing her and touching her and fucking her. She glances around at the small cabin with a grimace. “Well, it looks like he got his wish.”
“Did he?” My voice comes out a little too serious for the light topic, but I can’t help it. Alana looks my way, squinting to read my face in the low light of the fire. “I mean, sure, we’re locked together here in this tiny ass cabin, but you still won’t talk to me.”
“I…Davis, I…” she stumbles over her words, looking anywhere but at me. “Look, it’s been four years. It’s all in the past. We don’t have to talk about it.”
I growl, struggling to rein in my frustration. “Every time I try to say anything meaningful to you, you cut me off and say we don’t have to talk about it.”
“Nothing good ever comes from dredging up the past like that,” she says lamely.
“It’s not dredging up anything, if it’s never been dredged up before,” I argue back.
She blows out a heavy breath that makes the hair curtaining her forehead flutter. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to respect your boundaries.”
I turn back toward the fire, shaking my head as I mumble, “Funny. ‘Boundaries’ are the last thing I ever wanted with you.”
“What?” she questions, pretending like she didn’t hear me.
I roll my eyes. Hard. “Never mind.”
Silence resumes. Only now, I can hear another round of rain and thunder move in. The windows rattle gently, as the wind picks up.
Great. More rain…
A clap of thunder sounds, and it jolts something inside me. I sit up straight, pivoting to face her. “Y’know what?” I explode. “Wedoneed to talk.”
“Davis, let’s not do this,” she begs.
Fuck that.
“You don’t think you owe me an explanation? Goddammit, Alana. I have loved you since I was sixteen years old, and you absolutely devastated me. You could barely even explain why.”
My love for Alana is ongoing and ever-fucking-lasting.
Present tense. Present perfect continuous. That’s what Mrs. Winters, our old English teacher, said it’s called, right?
I have loved this woman for half my life, and I’m probably cursed to keep loving her for the rest of my time on this planet.
Alana starts to talk, but stutters, unable to form a coherent thought. Tears form in her big, blue eyes.
My voice lowers. “We took a vow, Alana. I promised you until death do us part. And I meant it. Every fucking word.”
“I meant it, too,” she whimpers.
