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Everything hurts. My sobs die down, as I am not capable of taking a single breath anymore. I am not even sure what’s the exact reason for this breakdown. Is it guilt of unknowingly fucking my brand new stepbrother? Is it guilt of knowing that I have just potentially ruined every family event in the future? Is it guilt of knowing I did something bad with someone who is important to my mother, again? Is it, maybe, just the pain of losing a guy who, even for a few hours, fully worshiped me and everything I am?
Maybe I could’ve pretended I didn’t see it…at least till the sunrise? No. I couldn’t do that. I am not that selfish. Though I wish I was.
As I unlock my phone, his name stares back at me. He put himself in asMy Noah, which brings another round of cries out of my chest. He is not my Noah, he can never be. Not in that way.
I somehow manage to move to Corey’s couch, where I can clearly see the sun coming up. The world is just about to wake up, yet I would love nothing more than to fall asleep, forever. How do I face my mother after this? How do I facehimafter this?
I tuck my hair under my neck, wrapping my fingers in it, searching for comfort. His hair was so silky. It fell so beautifully around his face, making his eyes pop. My fingers hurt with the need to run through it again. I wish I held him just a little bit longer, for a minute, or two. I wish I could keep him.
I hear keys jingle in the lock, and a few moments after Corey’s face pops behind the door.
“Babyyyyy! What a night, right?” he says, his back facing me whilst he’s locking up again. “Did you have fun? I couldn't stop dancing. The lights, the music. Woohoo! I guess being almost thirty one isn’t too old for clubbing!”
He faces me at last, and stops dead in his tracks. Probably taking my appearance in.
“I fucked up, Corey,” I croak, running to him, wrapping my heavy arms around him.
“Oh,Rory…What happened, love?” He holds me tightly as I sob into his shirt.
“I didn’t know. Oh God.. I swear I didn’t know who he was.” I manage to squeeze the words out in between violent sobs.
“Who? Ronan, did someone hurt you?” Corey’s voice is laced with worry.
“The man I came here with,” I say, lifting my eyes to his.
“What did he do to you?”
“He didn’t do anything. I did.” Corey caresses my hair, just the way he did when I was six, and he was babysitting for my mom. “I kicked him out.”
“Why? Ronan, start talking, love.” He connects his eyes with mine, holding my face up to him. “I’m starting to get really worried.”
“Because he is mystepbrother.” I whisper, barely audible.
“WHAT!?” His scream startles me. “He is Marko’s son?”
I shove my face back into his chest and continue sobbing. We stand like that, embracing each other for a little while. Corey keeps rocking me side to side, calming me down. I know his heart cracks a little every time he sees me cry, and I know he’s been through enough already, but I have no one else.
“Come on, sweet girl, let’s sit down for a bit, and you can tell me everything,” Corey whispers gently, as he steps away from me and pulls me to the couch.
Wrapping me in a soft blanket, he lets me rest and goes to make us some sweet tea. My mind is still a fuzzy mess, but with him around, it feels less chaotic. I’ve seen him in this state many times, with drugs, with breakups, with all of his cheating boyfriends, starting with the first one at fifteen. But all of the above doesn’t make this better. It makes it worse. He had a reason to cry about. I have a mismatched one night stand, with whom I have such a deep soul connection. I feel it in my blood cells. He approaches me again, carrying the tea and pats my head.
“Ready to talk about it, kiddo?” Corey says, slipping on the couch next to me.
“I guess…” I sniffle softly.
“Tell me everything. And then we can figure out what to do.”
And I do. I do tell him everything. Every single detail from Noah following me through the rain - to calling me that sweet sounding word Corey demands we google, but I refuse because I promised to hear it from him when we meet again. I tell him about Noah owning me right on this goddamn doorstep and everything that happened after we finally got in. I don’t dare keep a single detail to myself, including the piercings, which makes Corey’s eyes wide as saucers. And when I near the end of my story, I know his heart hurts with mine. I show him the tattoo, and a tear slips down his rosy cheek. The emotions I have are transferring to him, not for the stupidity of putting my one night on my wrist, but for the chance I had, for the man I will never be able to hold in my arms, not the way I did tonight.
As I finish my storytelling, a wave of silence washes over us. I sit curled up in his arms, and with direct sun rays that shine on me through the window, devastation and tiredness finally take me under. I fall asleep holding my, now inked, wrist, dreaming about black eyes, black hair and a mischievous smile.
***
Leaving Corey is never easy for me. Since he decided he wants to be a big boy now, I close the doors behind me as he still sleeps on the couch, and drive back to our big old house on the town border of Silver Lake. The bastard took all of our pictures with him, saying I got the place, so he gets to take the memories. Naked, woods-green walls stare back at me. The color matching faded ink on Noah’s skin. This will be a hard day to get through.
Thankfully, I don’t work on weekends so I can wallow in my own sadness. Somehow, I feel like playing with cats and dogs might have a good impact on my newly broken heart, but I don’t have the strength to get out of bed.
Sad movies and snacks it is.
