Misconception (Coming Home)

I nod and watch as she walks away. I need to find a way to tell my sister the truth. First, I need to get through this workday, take the test, and write the hardest letter I’m ever going to write in my entire life. I place my hand over my belly and will the tears not to fall.

“I’m so sorry, Hudson,” I whisper before turning off the light and getting back to work.

CHAPTER 12

Hudson

Today was a long, hot, grueling day. I’m drained and exhausted. That’s why when Clayton and some of the others asked me to join them around the bonfire for a beer or two, I declined. Instead, I’m lying on my bed and staring up at the ceiling, thinking about Riley. It’s been three months today since we arrived, and although my anger is fading, my need for her is still as strong as ever.

I can’t count the number of times I’ve considered going to Peter or Rodney over the past three months and telling them that I need to go home. My need to see her, to fight for her, and for us is so fucking strong.

The only thing that’s stopping me is that I made a commitment. Well, that and the fact that each passing day my anger for her ghosting me disappears into the abyss, and the fact that I miss her so much my chest physically aches. Sure, I miss Raven too. She’s my best friend, and then the rest of our friend group, and my parents, but none of them cause this ache deep in the center of my soul like Riley does.

Reaching into my bag under my bed, I grab my journal and a pen, then get comfortable. My mother is a genius for sending this along with me. It’s helped so much. Putting pen to paper, I begin to write.

Riley,

It’s been three months since I’ve laid eyes on you. That’s ninety days, twelve weeks, and I won’t bore you with the hours or the minutes even though I know them too.

I miss you.

I miss your smile and the way your nose scrunches up just slightly when you laugh. I miss the sound of your voice. I can hear you in my head, but it’s not the same. It’s not the same as hearing you in person. I miss the feel of your skin beneath my fingertips and the taste of your lips. I just… I miss you, Riles.

There is a hole in my chest with your name on it. We work sunrise to sunset most days, and it’s long and hot and grueling at times, but even when I work myself to the bone, I can’t stop thinking about you. The ache never goes away.

I didn’t know it was possible to hurt like this. To love someone so deeply that your body aches when they’re not near. I want to hold you close and whisper how much I love you, but I’m here, and you’re at home, so this will have to do.

I love you, Riley. I want to be with you. I want a life with you, and I just fucking miss you. With each day, my need for you grows stronger. I can’t explain it. It’s intense and tangible. I wish I was there with you. I wish I wouldn’t have let your rejection of my kiss fuel me to sign up for this trip. I’ve committed to a year, and although with every day that passes I think about calling it quits and coming home to you, I stay. I’m a man of my word, and that’s important to me. Please understand that you are important to me too. This was all bad timing and a spur-of-the-moment decision for me.

I thought staying and watching you day in and day out when you didn’t want me would be too much, so I agreed to the program. Then the night we shared… You wanted me, Riles. I could feel it in the way your body responded to mine. Even though I’m a man of my word, I was going to bail. I had planned to call Clayton. I know I’ve written to you about that, but it’s worth mentioning again. I was choosing you. Chose us, but you were gone and wouldn’t answer your door.

I was angry with you for a long time, but I’m not angry anymore. That anger is now determination. Nine months, beautiful. I have nine months until I see you again, and when I do, I’m not holding back. I’m no longer going to hide what you mean to me or how I feel about you. I can’t do it anymore, Riley. I can’t hide the fact that you own me. All of me.

All my love,

Hudson

Clayton steps into our shack, as we like to call it, just as I’m shutting my journal. “Hey,” I greet.