Dear Heart, I Hate You

I glanced around, unsure what he meant. “Like what?”

“This many people?”

I glanced around, trying to see it through his eyes. I was used to the crowd of people shopping and milling about on Third Street. I’d rarely seen it empty.

“Pretty much, yeah.” It was one of the reasons why I had preferred living in Malibu. Santa Monica always seemed crowded, no matter the time of day or night, but Malibu wasn’t that way at all. “You like it or not?”

“It’s interesting. I prefer where you live, though,” he said before kissing my cheek.

I smiled at him. “Me too.”

“I need to run in there,” Cal said, pointing toward a shop with souvenirs in the window.

&nb

sp; “Lucas?” I guessed.

“Yep.” Cal shook his head. “He’s like a child. I can’t come back without a present for him, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I was kidding. But you know, you did see Ryson last night, and you didn’t get a picture of him for Lucas,” I reminded him.

“I couldn’t take a picture of Ryson last night, but I really wanted to,” he admitted with a smirk.

Cal searched the whole store for the perfect California gift for Lucas. He settled on a Santa Monica Pier snow globe that featured sand instead of snow, a key chain in the shape of California with Lucas’s name on it, and a mug for the office.

“I think he’ll love them all,” I said.

“He’d better.”

Cal’s impending departure dampened the mood, both of us growing more silent as our remaining time ticked away. I didn’t want him to go, but knew that he had to.

Knowing the reality of our situation didn’t lessen the hurt. I wished he could stay, even though I’d never admit it, especially not now. I didn’t want to do anything else that might push him away. We’d had such a great weekend up until that phone call this morning. It had been damned near perfect.

The airport was close and traffic was light, meaning our time was ending even quicker than I’d anticipated. The dread in my chest grew heavier, weighing me down as I neared the exit for LAX. It seemed silly of me to feel this way, but I liked Cal, probably more than even I realized.

As I pulled the car up to the curb at the departures, I schooled my features, not wanting my face to reflect my sadness.

“Don’t be sad,” Cal said, telling me I’d done a shitty job of hiding it. He pulled my hand to his lips and pressed a kiss on top.

“Wait,” I said before he opened the door. I pulled out my phone and opened the camera app. “It’s like tradition now,” I said.

I smiled as he pressed his head against mine. When I’d taken a few pics, he reached for my chin, holding my face in place as he kissed me, his tongue gently sweeping inside my mouth.

I’m going to miss those damn lips and that tongue, I thought as he pulled away and opened the door. I popped the trunk before following him outside.

“I don’t want you to go,” I said, pouting as he pulled his duffel bag from the trunk.

“I don’t want to go either, babe. This sucks.” He pulled me into his arms tightly, as if he didn’t know when he’d get the chance to do it again. Hell, neither of us did.

“I hate this.” My voice was muffled against his chest as he patted my hair.

He pressed his lips against the top of my head. “I’ll call you when I land.”

My eyes started to fill as I silently berated myself. I refused to cry simply because Cal was going home. After all, that’s where he lived, and I needed to accept that.

Giving him a trembling smile, I said, “Have a safe flight.”

He kissed me again, but this kiss was rougher, more desperate, filled with want, desire, and unspoken promises. “I had a really great time this weekend. Thank you for everything.”