Only One Kiss (Only One 1)

The second I said Cassie, I knew I had fucked up beyond anything that I could ever do. I saw Candace’s face, and I wanted to take it all back. I wanted to erase it, but I couldn’t, so when I reached out and she shoved my hand off, I was in shock. It was all happening so fast, and then she said the words I was planning on saying that night.

I loved her; I loved everything about her. I loved her smile, I loved her laugh, and I loved the way she made everything okay. I loved the way she loved with her whole heart. I loved the way she hugged me and the way she held my hand. The way she would slide into bed with me at night and roll into me, kissing my neck. I fucking loved her, and I hurt her. Who does that?

When she drove away from me, I dropped to my knees. The pain in my chest shot through me, and I thought I was having a heart attack. I tried to call her back, but nothing and then the pain got worse. So much worse I couldn’t breathe, so I called 911.

Then I called the only other person I could. I called Becca and told her that I was waiting for the ambulance. She got there the same time that the ambulance did.

“Excuse me,” I say to the driver. “Can you make a pit stop?” I ask him, giving him Candace’s address. He stops, and I see that my car is not even there. I get out, running to the door and ringing the doorbell. “Baby,” I say softly, touching the door and then going to the garage and putting in her code. The door opens slowly, and I walk in, calling her name. “Candace?” I call her name, and I’m expecting her to be there. I walk in, and the house is eerily quiet. All the lights are off. I walk into her room, and the pain fills my chest again. Her dress is in the middle of the room, but her bed is still made. I smell her all around, and there in the middle of the bed lies Ari’s blanket. I pick it up and feel the wetness to it.

I get up and walk out of the garage, closing the door and getting back in the car, watching the outside while I’m driven back to my house. My car is parked in the driveway, and my heart speeds up. She came back; I don’t even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before I jump out of the car and run inside. “Candace,” I say, running to the living room and see Becca jump up from the couch. “Is she here?” I ask her, looking around, and she just shakes her head.

“No one is here. Someone dropped off your car keys an hour ago.” The stinging of tears fight to come out. “Oh my God.” She gasps. “You look like shit.”

“Good,” I say, taking off my jacket and tossing it aside. “I feel worse than I look.”

“What the fuck happened?” she asks, sitting down now.

I rub my face with my hand. My whole body hurts, and then when I say the words, my chest hurts again. “I fucked up.” I look over at her. “Like really fucked up.”

“Oh, dear, how did you really fuck up?” She waits for it.

“I called her Cassie,” I say, and her mouth opens hanging open. “Yeah, that’s about the extent of it.”

“There will be no turning back from that,” she says. “Like lying about an orgasm is one thing. Pretending to like her cooking is another.” She points at me. “But calling a woman by another woman’s name? A dead one who you have a child with is . . .” She puts her hand on top of her head. “Is all the way fucked up.” I rub my chest. “Wait a second,” she says. “When did this pain in your chest start?”

“It started the minute we started having the conversation about her having children,” I say, and she just listens. “Then I called her Cassie.” I don’t tell her about her admitting that she loved me and hated me all in one sentence. “I followed her out, and when she drove away is when my heart started to hurt.”

She gets up now and chuckles. “You weren’t having a heart attack, you jackass. It’s called a broken heart.”

I look at her. “What?”

“The pain in your chest.” She grabs her jacket and puts it on. “It’s your heart breaking.”

“Please.” I shake my head. “Thank you,” I say, and she bends and kisses my cheek.

“You’re welcome,” she says, and then she turns to walk out, stopping. “Do you love her?”

I nod my head. “Can you live without her?” I roll my eyes, the pain in my chest starting up again. “Think about it,” she says. “Don’t answer me, but think about it. Cassie isn’t here, and you moved on. If Candace wasn’t here, how would you be?” I don’t answer her. I also try not to think of it. I don’t want to ever think of that. I take my phone and dial her number again, and it goes straight to voice mail.