Pause

by CJ Adler

  Grey pushes my hand off of him only for my hand to end up straight back on his shoulder. He sucks in a deep breath as if summoning patience. He averts his dark eyes to the sky, frustrated. When he finally brings his gaze back to me, I don't fail to miss his noticeable scowling.

  “Don't weep for me, Ferrot.”

  Grey scoffs at this and rolls his eyes.

  “I know you will miss me most from everyone. We've always had this

  special, unbreakable bond—”

  “No special bond,” he chips in, repulsed by the thought.

  I brush his grumpy attitude off and carry on. “We're like jello and peanut butter if you will—”

  “I won’t, and peanut butter and jelly are disgusting together,” he cuts me off, his tone clipped and harsh.

  I give him a feigned, pitied smile before hugging him again. Much to everyone's shock, including that of my own, Grey, on his own accord, actually hugs me back with one arm. However, it's only when he has me close enough that his agenda dawns on me.

  “I don't know what or who you're running from, Lawson, but I do know that it will catch up with you. For your own sake, I hope that you're not making a mistake,” he whispers into my ear so that only I hear him.

  His words slowly resonate within me. For someone who hates me, he always seems to know exactly what I'm thinking. To him, I'm readable, transparent. To everyone else, I'm an endless enigma.

  Grey knows perfectly well that this goes beyond just my father. He knows that this is my way out. He knows that I'm not running to my father, but, rather, running away from the life I have here.

  Chapter 63

  You Can't Handle This Chapter ;)

  Jay

  “You've been really quiet, Jay. What's the matter with you?” she asks softly, cautious.

  I keep my eyes trained on the road instead of listening to her drone on.

  The airport is close by, meaning that the time for me to come to terms with her leaving is nearing.

  “You were fine before…” she continues in spite of me not responding. “What happened? What's wrong?” she asks, refusing to let this go.

  “I'm fine,” I reply harshly, choosing to be vague. The situation is just messed up and there's nothing I can do to stop any of it. It's beyond my control.

  “You're not!” she snaps at me, frustrated.

  I clench my jaw in surprise. I wasn't anticipating that. She's mad and I know better than anyone else to stand down when she's mad. She tends to get fierce and I tend to always lose.

  I'm about to reply but choose not to when a car swerves drunkenly into my lane without any warning or indication. Fortunately, driving is one of the only things I haven't managed to not screw up for myself. If there's one thing that I'm confident about, it's my driving.

  I easily dodge the car, smoothly avoiding what could have been an accident.

  Judging by the driver's driving abilities, the guy is obviously wasted. He could have caused a collision. Had it been anyone else in the car but Aqueela, I probably would have caused more of a scene. I'd rather not disappoint her by losing my temper again.

  For a second, I spare a glance at my girlfriend to see if she's alright. I silently let out a breath of relief when I find her staring up at me in shock with her widened hazel eyes. She's okay. However, my fury is only fueled at the sight of her. Had he caused an accident, no doubt Aqueela would have gotten hurt.

  “Useless idiot,” I mutter as I hit my fist against the steering wheel in aggravation. If things played out differently, he could have hurt her.

  Not thinking twice about it, I rely on instincts and apply full speed as I race after him. He'll think twice, next time, before taking on the roads when wasted. The car jerks forward in full throttle. I pass the other cars in order to reach the guy, who, just now, had the potential to destroy everything important to me.

  “Jay!” Aqueela raises her tone in fear at my recklessness. “Slow the hell down!” she commands, her scared voice pulling me out of my dark reverie.

  I immediately do what she asks when I see her cowering behind her seat belt in fright. She lets out a strained breath, visibly relaxing when she feels the car slowing down.

  “I'm sorry,” I quickly apologize, already knowing what's coming my way— maybe an apology can soften the blow

  She chooses not to yell at me this time but, instead, takes down a different route. “Are you okay?” she asks me, concerned.

  I merely nod. I have to be.

  Her hazel eyes flash up in skepticism. “You've never had road rage before.”

  I've never had a reason before her to have road rage. When it's just me in the car, I don't care if people take chances. When Aqueela's in the car, it's a whole different ball game—my life isn't the only life at stake anymore.

  Feeling guilty, I redirect my attention back to the highway.

  “You're usually a relaxed driver,” she reminds me. “You never lash out.”

  I can detect the disappointment in her voice and it upsets me more than it should. I can't stand her being disappointed, especially when it's with me. The urge to apologize, yet again, resurfaces. “I don't know what happened back there. I lost it for a second,” I try to explain.

  I always feel like a hopeless case when I allow her to see the darker side to me. The inner anger is a part of me I don't take pride in. I don't want Aqueela to know that part of me.

  She sighs to herself before her eyes dart back to the window. “It's understandable,” she whispers, seeing things from my perspective.

  I furrow my eyebrows in question as I begin to wonder why she let it slide so easily.

  “You know, I worry about you, Jay,” she admits aloud. “I get that racing is your escape from reality, but…” She trails off, faltering mid-sentence as she thinks it over. “My mother died in a car accident.”

  Her words hit me hard. I forgot. I never forget.

  My gaze flickers over to her as I mentally groan at messing up once again. When it comes to her, I'm incapable of doing anything right.

  She hardly ever speaks of her mother. It's how I know that I've just unintentionally hurt her. “Aqueela…” I pause, contemplating what to say as I make sense of her reaction. “I've had years of practice,” I reply, a lame attempt to reassure her.

  “All it takes is one slip-up,” she insists, not convinced or persuaded to believe otherwise. “I'm just saying, to drive safe. Take care of yourself.”

  Becoming doubtful by the way she's speaking, I take the risk in asking one of the never-ending questions roaming my mind. “Why are you really doing this?” I question. I want the real answer. As her boyfriend, and more importantly, her friend, I deserve the real answer.

  Knowing exactly what I'm referring to, she falls silent. “Let's not get into that right now,” is her answer. “You wouldn't understand.”

  “That's inconsiderate and unfair. I've always tried to figure out where it is that you're at. Everything I've done since meeting you, I've done for you,” I confess with unease, now offended. “If I don't understand…” I pause before speaking through clenched teeth, “then make me.”

  From my peripheral vision, I notice her shift to face me, breaking her locked gaze off of the scenery. “What is this really about, Jay? Where is all of this coming from?” She diverts, turning the question onto me, pinning the blame on me. “I don't want to argue with you before I leave.”

  I drop the subject for now as I pull up at the airport, pulling into a parking area. She, without a word, makes a move to get out. I use the centralized locking system to lock all the doors. A trace of a frown appears on her lips as she turns to me for an explanation.

  This is my last shot at getting her to change her mind.

  “Stay,” I resort to pitiful begging.

  Her eyes soften immeasurably so as she begins to hesitate. “Jay…” she drawls.

  “Don't go,” I repeat, refusing to meet her gaze. I know it's selfish of me to ask her to stay, but I've been selfless
for long enough.

  “Hey,” she whispers gently. “Look at me,” she says as she takes myface into her hands, forcing me to meet her gaze. “I'm coming back.”

  I doubt that.

  “I'm not saying goodbye, I'm coming back,” she reminds me. I try to turn away but she merely brings my face back to her. “You'll see me again,” she assures me, barely confident. It sounds as if she's trying to convince herself more than she's trying to convince me.

  “Are you?” I ask, point-blank. When I see that she isn't following, I clarify.

  “Are you coming back?” If she leaves, she leaves with a part of me too, the better part.

  Aqueela scoffs, taking offense, while shaking her head at me in disbelief.

  “Why would you ask that? Have you been speaking to Grey?” I don't bother denying it. “Is he wrong?”

  She narrows her eyes at me before making an attempt to open her door. I grab her wrist and carefully draw her back to me. “I hold back on what I feel for you because I know that you leaving is set in stone,” I tell her.

  It's become clear that Aqueela might not be planning on ever returning.

  “I'm sorry, Jay, but he's my father. I need to know him,” she reasons, willing me to drop it. “If I don't do this, I'll always be left wondering about the 'what if'.”

  She using her father as an excuse to justify her means to leave. I know that her leaving has more to do with the fact that her mother died here, her stepmother abused her here, and her father left her here. This place only harbors her tragic moments of life. She's trying to outrun her past, but it will catch up to her. Mine did. You can't escape the past until you live for the present.

  “So, what you're saying is that if you leave, you won't be wondering about us? About the 'what if' revolving around what we could have been?” I ask, trying to understand.

  She runs a free hand through her golden strands and releases a deep breath of anxiety. “What do you want from me, Jay?” she questions, exasperated with me, her patience wearing thin.

  “You know perfectly well what I want.” I've just made it crystal clear that I want her to stay. I want a future with her. The answer is in black and white. There is no in between. There are no gray areas. I've been blunt this far. I haven't been indecisive. “As I recall, the question is, what do you want? What are you expecting to gain from this?”

  “A dad,” she answers truthfully.

  Aqueela has this crazy notion in her head that finding her dad is going to solve all her ongoing, internal struggles. “Well, you're not going to find one in him,” I mutter, the harsher side to me replacing the level-head I've been trying to maintain. “Why are you saying this now? Why are you trying to stop me now?”

  She huffs, narrowing her eyes at me as she folds her arms across her chest in defiance.

  “It's just temporary,” she informs me of the facts that we both know are nothing but lies.

  “Yeah and are we?” I query impassively.

  “Are we what?” She blinks up at me through her long eyelashes, a blank expression crossing her face as a frown of confusion sets in.

  If she leaves, it's more than likely that I won't see her again. “Are we temporary too?” I press, referring to our strained relationship.

  She flinches as if caught off guard, a silence lapsing over us. The tension between us is frustrating. It's as if she's built a wall that I can't get through.

  “Because it sure feels like it,” I add as an afterthought.

  I shouldn't have the audacity to question her motives, but I find myself acting impulsively and doing it anyway. I've never been more desperate.

  Her entire expression falls at my words. Before I can take it back, she manages to pull her wrist out of my grasp, shooting me a scowl as she reaches for the door again. She's more than prepared to leave me behind, but I'm not prepared to let her go.

  “Aqueela, wait!” I break away when I find myself at a loss for words.

  Turning to my anger is my defense mechanism. There's a lot I have to say but I've never been great at expressing myself. It's why I leave that bit in our relationship all to Aqueela.

  “Don't bother!” She hisses, her eyes portraying hurt that she would never admit to.

  In spite of what she'd asked, I bother, I bother a lot. “I care about you. I'm sure you know that by now.” I take in a breath of determination before speaking in surety, “But if you walk away from me now, then that's it. We're done, we're over. I won't be held liable for a relationship that isn't going to work out in the end.”

  Sometimes, you need to be cruel to be kind. She's making a mistake, she just doesn't know it yet. If being hard on her is what it takes for her to see that, then I'll be the one to take up the role of being a monster.

  “I can't have you influence my decision. This isn't just about you anymore,” she protests, still not hearing me. I don't know what more I can do or say. She won't be swayed or moved by anything.

  It was never about me.

  “He's all I have left, Jay,” she concludes, vulnerable, her usual warm expression turning to a cool, detached stare. There's a faraway look in her eyes. It's as if I've lost her before she's even left.

  “You still have me,” I remind her. “That should be enough for you.”

  “You've always been more than enough for me, Jay,” she replies quietly, the corner of her lips lifting up into a small smile as she spares me one last glance before opening the door and getting out.

  The car door shuts after her. I'm left alone with my thoughts and an unsettling ache inside of me. I stare ahead, trying to restrain myself from going after her. I curl my hands into fists and try to divert my attention elsewhere. All I have to do is start the car yet I can't find it within me to do it. Furious and agitated, I end up punching the steering wheel for the second time today, circumstances getting the better of me.

  I close my eyes, trying to clear my mind of her. I fail hopelessly. Staring up at the ceiling in contemplation, I come to terms with what I know I'm going to end up doing.

  “Screw it.” I breathe out to myself before opening my door and heading out after her, the door slamming shut after me.

  I have no restraint when it comes to her.

  Aqueela

  There's a flash of silver and white that streaks across the gray, bleak sky. The ear-splitting rumble of thunder signifies that a storm is underway.

  Unexpectedly, I hear him trailing behind me, his footsteps matching mine as he catches up to me.

  “I've got a plane waiting for me,” I say to him quietly, not bothering to look his way. “I can't miss my flight.”

  I can sense the desperation coursing through him.

  “If you leave, I won't chase after you,” he says coldly. He's indirectly letting me know that if I leave, I lose him. I can hear the raw honesty in his voice. He means what he says.

  He pulls me to a halt, effectively stopping me from going any further. I meet his torn stare as he observes me closely, trying to detect what it is that is currently going through my mind.

  “I refuse to be that guy waiting around for you. I'm not going to run after you. I'm not going to stop you from boarding that plane. I'm not going to wait for you to return. I won't be there. This is your choice; I won't make it for you.”

  “That's fair,” I answer in a small voice, feeling fragile in the fact that I just made it final.

  “Still so stubborn and headstrong.” He shakes his head at me as he forces a smile. “I guess I can't say 'same time, same place tomorrow' then,” he jokes, trying to lift my spirits. He's using the same line he used on me when we first met.

  If he is to be there tomorrow, he'll be there alone.

  “Goodbye, Aqueela.” He salutes me playfully in the way he'd done when we'd first bumped into each other. Before I can utter anything, in turn, he's already walking back to his car.

  “I'm coming back!” I call after him, reassuring him of the fact, whether he believes me or not. Grey's words have gotten to h
im. He's given up.

  He turns back to face me, continuing to walk backward while still talking to me. “I know that,” he insists. “I just don't know when.”

  I hesitate and swallow, a guilty feeling entering my veins. “In a month's time,” I answer as I slowly walk over to him. “Why can't you believe that? Why can't you believe me?”

  He stops and purses his lips, a thoughtful expression on his face. “You might have done it unintentionally but you packed as if you’re leaving for more than just a month, hence why you felt the need to throw in my jacket and all those pictures of us.”

  I unintentionally tense.

  “You did it subconsciously,” he says quietly, his cool demeanor wavering.

  A sigh of hopelessness escapes me. “Jay—”

  “I'm not going to stand here and pull a 'Mason Montry' to get you to stay. I'm not going to tell you that I love you. I know that's not what you wanted to hear.” A searing pain courses through my chest upon hearing his words, my decision to leave now sealed. “I'm in a place where, right now, love isn't for me. I've accepted that. It's improbable for me to love and impossible for me to be loved.”

  He's always had such a negative outlook on life. He's a pessimist at heart. All his life, he's only known the worst. It's only expected that he'd eventually adopt a dark view on the future.

  That's when I feel it—a single drop. I glance up at the heavens to find more drops of rain free-falling above us, completely dampening my mood. Taking it as a sign, I get it off my chest and say what I need to say. “You stupid idiot,” I shake my head at him before I breathe it out, giving voice to what I feel, “it isn't impossible.”

  When I find the courage to glance up at him, I find him frozen in place. He's rooted stiff beneath the cool rain, the water from above flattening his dark hair messily against his forehead. He opens his mouth to say something but ends up doubting himself and his response. Nonetheless, there's a crack in his surface, his electric blue eyes gleaming with an undetectable, hidden message. His expression is a clear indication of what he feels—he wasn't ready to hear that, but I said it anyway.