by Logan Chance
I grab her face, my fingers digging into her soft skin and ravage her lips. I taste her sweetness and beg her to take the pain away with my tongue over her lips.
I need this.
All the tears I’ve shed over the past two years has broken me to a point I don’t know if I can ever be whole again. But, every time Marley holds me close, her moans escaping into my mouth, she pieces me back together. My heart beats. My blood pumps. My cock hardens.
I continue the kiss as I move her further down the hallway. I never let go of her as I lower her to my bed.
In this moment, she knows me. And I want her to know all of me. Everything. Every messy detail. And I want to know her.
“You’re the only thing that has helped me forget.”
I take her clothes off as slowly as I can, savoring every bit of her alluring body. The curves of her skin, the lines of her gorgeous face, even the way her hair flows like the ocean against the white of the sheets.
Everything about her is perfect.
I slide my hand up to her full breasts, pulling and tugging on her hardened nipples. She moans to let me know she loves my touch. I growl to let her know how turned on I am.
It’s a song and dance while I touch and she feels.
We move our bodies together, syncing perfectly. I fit myself inside her. She takes every inch of me as our eyes never lose contact.
I’m falling for her.
Hard.
And, there’s no stopping the descent. I wouldn’t even want to if I could.
I move in rhythm with her, our bodies colliding into each other. Her tits press against me, making me seek my release.
I grip my hand in her hair as her nails cling to me, never wanting to let go.
“Marley, I don’t ever want this to stop.”
Tears lay on the edge of her eyelids, threatening to fall at any moment. I pull her closer as I sink my length deeper inside her.
I sweep my lips along hers, demanding she open her mouth for me. She does, and I take a moment to hover myself against her, breathing into one another, giving life back to one another.
We come together, wrapped up in each other’s arms.
Ragged breaths. Beating hearts. I brush the tear that escaped down her cheek and plant my lips to hers. “Thank you,” I whisper.
She moves from the bed and smiles as she slips her clothes on.
Before she walks out, she turns to me, “Houston, maybe you shouldn’t try to forget. Maybe you need to remember.”
Chapter 21
Marley
Suadade-noun-a feeling of missing someone.
I open my puffy eyes the next morning, exhausted from all the crying.
What courage it must have taken for Houston to open up to me. I want to hold him, help him.
I left his apartment late last night, wanting to give him space after he bore his soul to me. The cheerful sunlight pouring into my room does nothing to lighten my mood. How could it? With the idea of being there for him fresh in my mind, I get dressed and call Houston to check on him. No answer. I go over to his place before school, but he isn’t there.
My phone pings with a text.
Professor Dale: I won’t be back.
Me: Where are you going? For how long?
Professor Dale: Forget me.
And, just like that the idea fades.
“Marley, I’m sure he’ll call eventually,” Lexi says, before taking a sip of wine. She arrived this morning for a quick weekend visit. It’s a “let me make sure you’re ok’ visit disguised as a ‘Surprise. I’m coming to visit because there are some things in New York I need to buy.’ Hanging with Lexi always cheers me up, so I’m glad she’s here. She’s the yin to my yang.
I spilled my guts to her as we dined over pizza and wine. A nice Pinot Grigio, King Estate, Houston’s favorite, which sours my mood as my mind drifts to him.
I scoot off the barstool, grabbing our plates. “Maybe,” I say. “I’m not sure.”
It’s been days since I found out the truth about Houston.
He found someone to take over his class, and we were informed he would not be returning this semester. I’ve literally stalked his apartment, wondering if he’d return. I’ve called him a few times with no answer. It’s as if he’s vanished, right out of thin air.
“The school didn’t say when he would be back, nothing?” Lexi asks while I rinse our plates and then place them in the dishwasher.
“No. I’m worried,” I tell her, moving to the couch.
She sits beside me. “Come here.” Her arms wrap around me, a cocoon of comfort.
“I just don’t know what to do,” I say, pulling away.
“Listen, he needs to deal with it on his own terms,” Lexi says, wiping a tear from my cheek. “You can’t fix this, Marley.”
I sigh, slumping back into the couch. “You might be right.” I look over at her. “But, I want to be there for him.”
“Aww, I know you do, sweetie.”
After I’m all talked out, we throw in some chick flicks and drown our sorrows in a tub of ice cream. Why does ice cream always make me feel better?
After a while, she drifts off to sleep and my mind won’t shut off from Houston. My days have turned into an onslaught of homework and me feeling sorry for myself. I feel guilty for feeling sorry for myself. There’s nothing I can do to make this better, except be there for him. But he won’t let me. And I get he needs to work through this, so how can I be mad at him for disappearing? What kind of selfish person would I be? I’m human though, and I want to know he’s ok. Is he sleeping? Is he crying? That hurts my heart the most. I care about him. Deeply. His loss explains so many things about him, his need for control and the way he’s closed himself off. His incessant hatred for tardiness. Now I can’t help but wonder if he used me as a tool to help him forget. And that’s when you know you’re in deep, I don’t even care if he did, because if it took away a little bit of his pain for the short time he was with me, then I’d do it over and over again.
The next day, Lexi and I hit the streets of New York, sightseeing. Empire State Building. Statue of Liberty. Times Square.
All of it. We end up in Chinatown, perusing all the handbags.
“Oh, my God, there’s so much of everything I want here,” Lexi says. She bounces from vendor to vendor, running her hand over the different fabrics and textures.
The crisp spring air chills my bones as I try to feign happiness. There’s still a sinking feeling in my gut. Why won’t he call?
When our arms are loaded with Lexi’s purchases, we head back. “Marley, I want to say how proud I am of you. Look at everything you’ve accomplished,” she gushes on the walk back to my apartment.
I roll my eyes, smiling at her praise. “Yeah, big accomplishment. I’ve slept with my professor.”
Lexi stops and people filter around us. “Marley, you can’t choose who your heart wants.”
I want the sidewalk to open up and swallow me whole. “I’m a real winner, huh?”
She hooks her arm through mine and starts walking. “Listen to your big sister. Don’t think like that,” she chastises me. “If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”
I laugh. “You didn’t just say that.”
She smiles. “Don’t make me sing it,” she says. “Seriously, you live in one of the greatest cities in the world. You’ve learned the subway system, and you haven’t been mugged. You’re in med school, and you’ve fallen in love. Yes, love sucks, but apparently, it’s supposed to be grand.”
“Grand? Are you high?” I laugh as she smiles.
She swats my arm. “Just high on that gorgeous purse I bought. No, I’m excited for you. Just think of all the free therapy I’ll get from you. And, don’t fret over Houston. When he’s ready he’ll come back. You’re an amazing girl,” she says, navigating through the crowd of people.
I narrow my eyes to hers. “Ok, what have you done with my sister?”
She bumps me with her hip. “I’
m serious.”
Her smile cheers me up, slightly. And only slightly. “Let’s not go back yet. I’ve got more shit to buy.”
We walk the streets of New York, shopping, laughing, and eating. I’ve missed my sister. We grab a hot dog from the stand, and Lexi makes jokes of its phallic resemblance.
“Want to see a show on Broadway or something fancy bitches do?” Lexi asks.
I laugh. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go walk around Central Park.”
Later in the evening, when Lexi is passed out from walking around the city and overstuffing her face with hot dogs, I glance to Houston’s apartment across the alley. No lights. No life. The window is etched in my mind as my last memory of him.
Chapter 22
Houston
April 29th
Maybe I don’t need to forget, maybe I need to remember. And, that’s what I strive to do.
Leaving Marley was hard.
Watching the teardrops race down the window of the path train as I head to my parent’s house in Princeton, I press my head against the glass closing my eyes to think about my life.
My so-called life. The life I stopped living once Nathan was taken from us.
I’d like to say Jennifer handled his death better than me, but she traveled along this same dark road of despair.
I wished for death. After Nathan died, I begged for it.
They say when you die that your life flashes before your eyes. But, what if all of this is the quick flash and I’m already dying?
And if it is, then this is the slowest crawl toward death.
For the longest time, I felt weak, a loser. I want to be better for Marley. She deserves that.
She’s smart, sweet, and cute as hell. It’s the way she kisses me softly and touches me gently which makes me feel more alive when I’m with her.
As the train pulls into the Princeton stop, I take a deep breath.
I called my sister to pick me up, and as I walk out of the station she waits, resting against her silver Mercedes.
“Hey, Katy, what’s up?” I say, striding over to her.
“I should be asking you that big brother. You don’t look so hot.” She smiles, her brown eyes sparkling. Her arms wrap around me.
“I’m actually doing better than I have in a really long time.”
She gives me another squeeze before releasing me.
We drive down US-1 to the home I grew up in. We don’t speak. There’s no need. She understands me more than most. A comfortable silence, and everything is spoken between us.
She knows I’m trying.
Damn, I want to live a normal life where I don’t think about Nathan every second of every day. I miss everything about him. And, I’ll never forget him. Yet, sometimes, I need a break from the memory of him.
She parks the car in the long, cobblestone driveway. Glancing to the colonial-style home in front of me, I wipe my palms on my jeans.
It’s now or never.
Katy opens the door, and my parent’s stand near the entrance. The smell of hydrangeas tickle my nose. The foyer is filled with fading flowers in memory of yesterday. The anniversary of Nathan’s death. They lost him too, and sometimes I’m so buried by my own suffering, I forget theirs.
My father steps forward, and I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven, son.” He wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me closer to him.
For two years, anytime anyone mentioned my son, I would snap. Pushing my family away became my specialty.
Once my father and I were closer than ever; we had a relationship I always wanted to have with Nathan. My father’s forgiveness means everything, and as he holds me tight against his chest, I weep.
My father weeps too, and next to me, mom and sister cry as well. I lift my head and spread my arms to encase them in the hug.
A good family cry. And, it’s exactly what we need.
After a while, my mother herds us into the kitchen. She makes dinner while playing soft music on the radio.
“Houston, will Jennifer be there?” my father asks, his eyes holding concern.
“I hope so.” And for the first time since Jennifer and I divorced, I want to see her.
We eat dinner, and it feels like old times.
After, my father pulls me aside.
“He’ll always be your son. You don’t need to forget him. There is no right way to grieve. And, I’m proud of you, son. You’ve been through more than I could ever handle.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, hugging him again.
“Nathan adored you. You were his shining star, but your light dimmed. I don’t think he’d want that for you.”
“Yeah.” I rub my hand along the back of my neck.
“You need to find your light again.”
“I want that too,” I tell him.
I stay the night at my parent’s house, and the next morning Katy takes me to the Newark Airport.
Boarding the plane to O’Hare, my chest burns with anticipation. Jennifer and I made a pact to visit Nathan’s grave every year on his birthday. Last year I never showed up.
When I make it to Chicago, spring is in the air, but you can’t tell by the chill in my bones. Leaves crumple under the harsh pounding of my footsteps, each one bringing me closer and closer to my destination.
With my hand, I push the wrought iron gate and step through the grass. The cloudy sky sheds its sadness over me as I wander the cemetery on this gloomy afternoon. My hands are deep within the pockets of my leather jacket as I head toward his grave.
Melancholy entrenches me. It consumes me because it knows it owns me.
I glance around, looking for the marble headstone I know is just a few feet away. When I see it, I drop to my knees.
It’s as if this cemetery knows me. Watches me cry. I glance to the headstone, the one with Nathan’s legacy.
A tear falls, I swipe it away as I say a quiet prayer. The reverence makes my breath catch. The serenity makes my eyes water. A light mist falls from the sky, threatening to open up into a downpour, but it doesn’t phase me.
“Happy Birthday, buddy.” A tear drops. “Nathan, I love you. I miss you every day. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry.” I crumble, my breath coming out in pants.
It never gets any easier. As time goes by the memory never fades. Maybe it never will.
“Hi,” I hear her voice say. She steps next to where I sit, and places a Hot Wheels toy car on his headstone.
“Hey, Jen.”
She kneels beside me, her familiar perfume wafting through the air. It brings back all the memories of what I once had.
“How are you? I wasn’t sure if you were going to show up.” It’s awkward between us, and I’m sure she feels it too.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. It was just too hard last year. Things are getting better, though.” I run my hand over his headstone, still unable to look at her.
“That’s good. Houston, I’m getting married.” Her words don’t shock me.
I turn to face her, laying my eyes on her for the first time in a long time. Her hair has grown longer, and she appears happier. Her eyes still hold a deep sadness which mirrors mine. One that I don’t think will ever fade.
“Is he a good guy?”
“Yes. His name’s Stuart. He’s helped me a lot.”
I smile. “That’s good.” I take a deep breath. “I should have taken him.”
“What?”
“That morning, I should have driven Nathan to school myself.” My shoulders slump as I gaze back to his tombstone.
Jennifer grabs my arm, directing my attention back on her. “No, you can’t do that. You can’t blame yourself.”
“It’s my fault.” Another tear falls.
“It’s no one’s fault. For a long time, I blamed myself. I blamed everyone. He was my baby boy, Houston. And there isn’t a moment that goes by that I don’t miss him.” She sobs into her hands, and then lifts her tear-stained cheeks. “I was his mommy.”
I wrap my arms around her
, pulling her close. “It sucks.”
She pulls out of my embrace and wipes her nose. “It really does,” she pauses a moment before continuing, “I called you because I have some things of Nathan’s I found and thought you might want.”
“Ok.”
We sit in silence a while longer, letting the afternoon clouds roll by as we both silently pray to our little boy.
As we walk back toward the parking lot, a red-haired man with a beard rests against a silver sedan.
He smiles when he sees Jennifer, and she rushes into his waiting arms. A cool breeze sweeps in as they both direct their attention on me.
“You must be Houston,” the man says. “I’m Stuart.” His smile is warm, friendly. He extends his hand as his eyes meet mine. He passes the handshake test. A solid hand shake while staring the person in the eyes is very admirable.
“Hey, nice meeting you.” I shake his hand.
Jennifer whispers to him to pop the trunk of the car. The way they gaze into each other’s eyes is heartfelt. It makes me want it. Want that happiness. I want it with Marley. I want to experience life with her. To remember what it’s like to be free from guilt and pain. My therapist said one day, when I’m ready, I would move on. It would be a slow process, but I would want to discover life again. I think I’m there.
Stuart kisses her cheek before reaching inside the car to release the trunk.
She calls me over and pulls out a box, placing it in my arms. I glance inside and tears well up.
We say our goodbyes against a vibrant orange and pink sunset in the distance. A soft breeze follows me as I slide into the cab to head back to the hotel. I hold the box tight, waiting until I get there to see all the treasures hidden within.
As I step through the doors, I place the box on the bed and pull out the baseball glove first. So, small. Memories of little league practices and me coaching him through his first game wash over me.
I grab his baseball cap out of the box next, a tiny red hat, and I cling it to my chest. I miss him, so much. So damn much. I drop to the bed, my shoulders slumping as I pull the box closer.
Noticing a blue piece of construction paper at the bottom of the box, my fingers grip the edge and I hold it up. It’s a letter from Nathan, something I never saw before. I read it. I laugh, then cry. Scribbled on the paper in black and purple crayons is the sentence: My daddy is the best dad in the whole world. My daddy loves me and I love him.