“What if there’s an incentive to stay?”
He kisses me softly, and I feel my heart shatter slightly. The hope he has in his gaze. I can’t give it to him. I can’t.
“We barely know each other, Caleb.”
“I know,” he replies, kissing me deeper, almost as if trying to convince me to stay with his tongue, with his body. And it almost works.
Almost.
When he finally pulls away, he places his forehead on mine. “But I feel like I’ve known you forever. It just works with us. So…if you insist on Harvard, I’m sure I could find work out there.”
I feel myself go rigid beneath him, my breath locking in my chest as I stare up at him. He’s waiting for something I know I can’t givehim. His eyes search mine, and I can’t make myself look away. I wish I could. That would be easier.
Silence hangs between us, and I see the moment it hits him.
“Of course, that’s only if you want me out there with you. I’d be crazy to follow you around. I’m not Sem.”
I relax slightly at those words, but the fragile, splintered hope he has in his eyes has me asking, “Can we table this conversation for another time, Caleb? I’d…I’d like to just have this evening with you without the future looming over us.”
He nods and presses his face to my chest again, but I hear the sniffle, can see his eyelashes fluttering.
My mind desperately tries to change the subject, and I ramble on about nothing important. He’s not responding or even following my conversation, too distracted by what I said. Because my words hurt him.
Or the lack thereof.
“I’ve ruined it, haven’t I?” I finally ask.
“Nah,” he mutters, pressing his face against my neck.
“You’re acting…sad.”
“I’m not sad, just coming to terms with some things.”
“I’m so sorry, Caleb,” I whisper, my voice cracking slightly.
“Don’t be. You were never anything but honest with me.”
Silence engulfs us, thick enough that I can feel every word we don’t say. He should pull away, end it. Tell me to go fuck myself. But instead of doing that, he falls into a restless sleep, curled around me.
Like he’s bracing for the inevitable end.
I can’t stay. Even though I want to.
Gently, I peel myself from his clinging grasp, his fingers tightening for a moment before they fall away. Everything feels colder now that I’m no longer against him, beneath him.
But even so, I still grab my bag and sneak out of the apartment, hoping to get some homework done. All my free time has been spent wrapped around Caleb, folded in his warmth.
I’ve fallen behind. My assignments are untouched, deadlines looming. But as soon as I’m in the coffee shop, my laptop out, my textbook beside me, I find my mind wandering back to Caleb, to the wounded look in his eyes when I didn’t answer him about our future.
The way he seemed to crack slightly as I tore his hope to shreds.
He thinks I don’t want him to come with me to Harvard. He thinks I’m pushing him away.
If he only knew.
Having him there would be a dream.
It’s a dream I can’t even really fathom because doing so hurts.