A Lover's Lament

“Great!” I toss my hands up in exasperation. “You’ve already looked it up, which means you’ve known for a while.”

“No,” he states firmly. “She sprung this on me yesterday morning. I tried to tell you earlier, but we were—”

“You know what, never mind.” I’m confused. So confused. I just gave myself to Dev and I wouldn’t change that for the world, but somehow it seems so insignificant in light of all of this. He’s leaving. Leaving. My stomach dips and then rolls as I fight back a wave of nausea.

Devin has been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember, and just the thought of him not being here every day—not being able to drive over to his house and see him anytime I want, or kiss him anytime I want—makes my chest physically hurt. I’ve never been shot before, and I hope like hell I never do, but this sharp pain in my stomach must be what it feels like.

Slipping my feet in my sandals, I haul ass toward the door. Devin rushes up behind me, slamming his hand against the solid wood, shutting it before I can slip out. His body is hot against mine, his breathing ragged, and guilt ripples through me. He’s the one that’s leaving … he’s the one that has to start over, and here I am acting like this.

“Katie, please hear me when I tell you that this doesn’t change anything.”

“You’re wrong,” I say with a sigh. “This changes everything.” And by everything, I mean that nothing will be the same. I don’t mean it won’t work, because I do believe that if we want it badly enough and try hard enough, we can make it work. But it won’t be easy. It’s something that we’ll need to sit down and hash out, but right now I just need to collect my thoughts.

“Please don’t do this.” His pleading voice is almost my undoing—almost. But I know that I need to step away and calm down before I ruin the very best thing in my life.

“I just need to process this. It’s a lot to take in.”

“We can make it work,

Katie. I promise you, I’ll come back.”

“I believe you that we can make it work if we both try hard enough.”

Devin’s body stiffens behind me. “What’s that supposed to mean? You make it sound like I wouldn’t work at it.”

Whirling around, I plant my hands on my hips. “Your mom hasn’t had a landline in years, Devin. If I want to see you or talk to you, I have to drive to your house. So explain to me what I’m supposed to do when you’re eight hundred miles away.”

His shoulders drop, and I can tell that he didn’t think of that. “Now, will you please take me home?”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

“I want to spend every second I can with you, because we’re leaving on Sunday.”

“What?” I squeal, my eyes nearly popping out of my head. Great. This just keeps getting worse. “I—wh—ho—FUCK!” This isn’t happening. How do I fight this? How in the hell are we supposed to make it work with such little time to even talk about it or prepare? Threading my fingers in my hair, I grip it tightly. “Sunday? You’re leaving on Sunday?” My voice rises with each word, along with my blood pressure. “I can’t believe this.” My pulse is hammering so hard in my ears that it’s giving me a headache, and my chin hurts from the uncontrollable trembling.

“Katie!” A loud knock sounds on the bedroom door, and I wonder who in the world managed to get into Devin’s house. “Katie, are you okay in there?” My body sags in relief at the sound of Wyatt’s voice. Several other voices filter through the air, and I roll my eyes because the last thing I need right now is an audience.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” Devin growls. Stepping around me, he flings the door open. “What?” he barks, the tone of voice causing Wyatt to take a step back.

“He’s my friend and I invited him.” Wyatt watches the two of us hesitantly, but when I walk straight up to him, he opens his arms without thinking twice. Burying my face in his chest, my emotions get the best of me. They boil low in my belly, slowly working their way up until a strangled cry rips from my throat. Wyatt’s arm wraps around my shoulder, but I notice that he leaves the other one hanging loose at his side. Probably a smart idea if he doesn’t want it ripped off.

“Enough.” A strong hand wraps around my arm and I’m yanked away from Wyatt. “Move,” Devin seethes. Wyatt steps out of the way when Devin takes off down the hall, pulling me behind him.

“Let her go.”

“Fuck off, cowboy.” Devin laughs when Wyatt doesn’t come back with more, but I’m not really surprised. These two men, my very first two friends, haven’t liked each other since day one. Devin has always been a little jealous and Wyatt a little intimidated, but they’ve managed to keep the peace for my sake … well, mostly.

“Where are you taking me?” I try to pull from his grasp, but he holds on with ease. I finally decide that it’ll be easier to just follow behind. We garner several strange looks when Devin drags me through the living room and right out the front door without a word to anyone. Tossing his car door open, he pours me inside then stalks around his car and slides into the driver’s seat. It’s a short drive to my house, but long enough for my anger to drain and be replaced with a mixture of guilt, sadness and regret.

If there is one thing I do know, it’s that Devin is and always will be my best friend, and I love him more than I will ever love any other man. Gravel crunches under the weight of his car as we pull down my lane, and I shift in my seat to face him.

“I’m sorry.” Dropping my head to the seat, I wait for him to look over at me but he doesn’t, not even after he throws the car in park.

“I can’t believe you.”

Closing my eyes, I rub a hand down my face. “I know,” I concede. “I shouldn’t have told you I needed time … that wasn’t fair of me. But in my defense, I was overwhelmed. I just wanted a second to process this and put it all in perspective.”