One More Time

“Go. Just – go. Leave me alone,” she whimpered.

“You know I can't do that, Hannah,” I said softly.

I moved toward her, taking gentle steps as if trying not to scare her away. She didn't move or look up, so I took that as a good sign. I sat down beside her and rubbed her back through the towel. Her sobbing stopped, but her body was still tense. Slowly, she turned her face to me, her eyes narrowed and glaring at me.

“Just – leave me alone, Eli. We shouldn't have been together,” she said, closing her eyes as she spoke the words. “It was a mistake, and it can't happen again.”

“Hannah, you don't really mean that,” I said, laying down beside her. “I know you better than anyone in the world, and if you didn't want to be with me, you would have kicked my ass. If you didn't want to sleep with me, you wouldn't have. You wanted this as much as I did – you want this thing between us as much as I do – and I'm not going to let you go that easily. You can't run away to Seattle and hide from me this time.”

“Get out,” she said.

She sat up in the bed, holding her towel in place and pushed against my chest, hard enough that I felt it.

“Hannah, please –”

“Get the hell out of my room, Eli,” she said, her voice colder than an Arctic wind. “Now.”

Her eyes, rimmed red with tears, were filled with rage now, and there was no getting through to her. Not right now. I hated this shit. It was the same thing, every single time. As teenagers, she'd fuck me, we'd snuggle for hours and I'd fall for her – and the next day, she'd push me away. She'd always run back to her mother’s to hide from me, refuse to return my calls, refuse to speak to me until the next visit. Until the next time she wanted to fuck me.

Every time she left though, she took a bit of my soul with her. She might not be able to run far now, not with a job at the local hospital and a lease on her apartment, but she could easily cut me out of her life. I wasn't sure I could handle that happening again.

“Stop this,” I said, standing my ground.

I grabbed her hand before she could push me away and studied her face seriously. The rage on her face mingled with pain, her expression one of exquisite misery. I knew she didn't hate me – she hated how she felt about me. It was one of those things I could never understand. It was more than just the fact that we were stepbrother and stepsister – it went deeper. Yet instead of telling me what it was, she continued to push me further and further away.

Not this time.

“I'm going to leave the room and give you your space, Hannah, but sooner or later, you're going to have to talk to me,” I demanded. “I'm sick and tired of this fucking game. You play it every goddamn time. I love you more than anyone else in this world, you hear me? You can try like hell, but you'll never push me away, not completely, and let's face it – you really don't want that anyway. We both know it.”

I dropped her hand and stood up, pulling my pants on. I didn't dare look back at her because I knew what I'd see if I did. I'd see her crying and then I'd want to go to her, to comfort her. Just like I did every fucking time.

But, that's not what she wanted. She wanted me to leave. At least right now, that's what she wanted. Later on, who the fuck knew? Her mood and attitude changed like the goddamn weather in the Midwest.

But if Hannah wanted me to leave her alone, wanted me to let her wallow in her own little world of self-pity for a while, so be it. We'd talk later. It wasn't over. She was going to talk to me.

She wasn't going to run back to her momma this time.

Not if I had anything to say about it.

Chapter Ten

Hannah

I sighed as I looked at the clock. I only had an hour before I had to be at work. I'd laid in bed all morning and hadn't stepped out of my room. Not even for a bite to eat. I was starving, but I did not want to face Eli right now. That was the last thing I wanted or needed now.

I didn't want to deal with the questions, the feelings – everything that came with seeing him again. I thought the years apart would have dulled my desire for him. But, I'd been wrong. Dead wrong – and it was kicking my ass that I'd been so wrong.

I finally pulled myself out of bed, and slowly opened the door to the living room.

“Eli?” I said, speaking softly.

I almost didn't want him to answer me. Yet, when he didn't answer, my heart sunk. I opened the door wider and stared out into a dark, empty living room beyond. Walking down the hallway, I saw that the crib was gone – as were all of Aubree's belongings. I walked toward the couch and saw that there was a note on the coffee table addressed to me, from Eli.

It's clear you need your space. I'm giving it to you, hoping it'll help you clear your head. Thanks for all your help with Aubree, I think I can take it from here. I don't want to burden you anymore. If you want to talk, you know where to find me.

It felt like a punch to the gut, but I read it over a few times, as if there might be some secret message or something I was missing. But, there wasn't. No hidden message. No secret meaning. He was gone. He went home and took the baby with him. My stepbrother, the man who swore he was simply not cut out for babies or fatherhood, was going to be the sole provider for an infant.

So many different and powerful emotions rolled through me. Shock. Surprise. Hope for the future. While those were all mostly good, there was something else gnawing deep in my gut. A feeling I couldn't squash for anything in the world, even though I knew it was ridiculous.