And I Love You the Most (This Love Hurts 3)

The very thought makes my heart ache with longing. Maybe I should confess to him that I don’t know what I’ll become, but a part of me longs to be with him. That a small voice whispers wherever he would take me, I’d feel at home. Whatever I’d be beside him, I’d feel is right.

He clears his throat and my attention is brought back to him. To his handsome face and the obvious tension between us. It blisters as if we’re surrounded by fire, when in reality it’s the chill of winter that batters us.

“I don’t know how to start,” he admits and takes a heavy inhale.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I clear my throat too and stare down at my feet. I’ve worn my best pair of heels even though I knew we were meeting at the old farm by my family house. I’d be lying to myself if I said the dress beneath my double-breasted trench coat wasn’t picked out just for him, along with the lacy lingerie.

I even chose the dark red shade because I know the color complements and suits my caramel skin. I wear it on every first date, and yet I chose to wear it this evening. As the sun sets, leaving us little light, and the cold surrounds us, daring me to expose the deep-V of my bra. As if I would.

Embarrassment rises inside of me. “Whatever you have to say,” I tell him, “just say it.”

There’s a pain that flashes across his face, and I have to admit, I feel it deep in the marrow of my bones as well.

It must mean something, I tell myself, when you can’t stand to say that final goodbye. He takes another step forward, and before I can deny him or even think twice, he leans forward, closing his eyes and I close mine too, my entire being relaxing from the gentle kiss. My coat rustles as I reach out to him, letting the cold hit my hands as I splay them against his chest, wishing we were anywhere else.

The kiss surprises me, as does my reaction to it. These last few nights I’ve dreamed of him, but it’s only this side I can accept. The other things … what he’s done and why he’s done them, they still scare me. They terrify me. The version of him now, lures me to sleep. The other half of him is what wakes me in the middle of the night with violent screams chasing my breath.

“This is for you.” Christopher’s words are whispered, his lips pressing against mine just slightly until he pulls back, making me lean forward and subconsciously I rise onto my tiptoes, needing more and unable to break the kiss.

He does end it, though, leaving me longing and my heart pounding in my chest. A fear slips into my blood, raging as my pulse quickens. There’s something here between us, some sense of pain that threatens to drown me if ever I didn’t have this man.

Before I can bear to speak the thought in my mind, that this moment isn’t a goodbye, that the kiss he just placed on my lips wasn’t the last we’ll share, Christopher pulls out a small box.

It’s simple by design and plastic. He doesn’t hesitate to pull back the lid and apart from a silver hinge, the only thing in the box is a small red button.

“What is it?”

“It breaks me every time I come here and I didn’t know why … I didn’t know why I couldn’t stand to be here and how I questioned everything when I thought about this barn.”

“This barn?” A deep crease settles between my brow as my mind races for an explanation as if I should already know what Christopher means.

“I learned from your father. I came here, lived here and I watched everything he did.” The confession wreaks havoc on my consciousness, on the memories I have of my father. No. I’m quick to deny it all. He’s lying.

“Christopher,” I say and his name is a warning, one that pulls me from the shock of his confession. “I know my father … he … I don’t know what he did but …” My head shakes on its own, the small child inside of me screaming that whatever the man in front of me is about to say, it’s not true.

It doesn’t take more than a second to pass, before I know that it is true, though. He wouldn’t lie to me. Christopher wouldn’t fill my head with a tale that could destroy me. Not if he could help it.

He’s silent and it’s then I notice the small box trembles in his hand. Tears gloss over and the vision of him, the man in the shadows, the man who’s done so much wrong in this world, it blurs.