The Long Way Home

Home > Other > The Long Way Home > Page 5
The Long Way Home Page 5

by K. Langston


  He remains silent for one heartbeat.

  Two.

  Three…

  “I love you. I love you so fucking much. You make my world better. You make me better.”

  The words roll off of his tongue in an avalanche of heat, slamming into my chest, ripping through my heart like a freight train.

  Tears well up in my eyes as my body floods with warmth. “I love you too, Dean. Always.”

  “You love me?” he asks, in awe of my confession.

  Biting my bottom lip, I nod. Mama says love doesn’t need a reason, it speaks from the irrational wisdom of the heart.

  What Dean and I have is irrational all right. Nothing about us makes sense. Our age difference. Our personalities. Our directions in life. We were headed down two completely different roads, yet somehow, my path has changed course, merging with his.

  His mouth is back, hungry.

  Hot.

  A cyclone of destruction meant to claim my heart and soul forever.

  Removing my shirt, he plants soft, reassuring kisses across my collarbone before he shifts, laying me down on the cool leather seats. Then he unbuttons my jeans, slowly peeling them from my shaky legs, dropping more kisses along the way.

  The sound of denim hitting the floorboard is just as thunderous as my pounding heart, letting me know we are that much closer to being connected as one.

  Which is what I want more than anything right now.

  His desire is palpable as well as my own and the need to answer it pulses wildly in my veins.

  I am naked sans my bra and panties and he’s still fully clothed. Heat rushes my cheeks but I stomp down my apprehension as my trembling fingers move to his sides, lifting his shirt up his torso and over his head, breaking our kiss.

  I’ve never seen a man naked before and the sight of Dean looking down at me right now is intimidating. His eyes are dark pools with glimpses of moonlight reflecting in their depths. I want to bathe in its pale light. But I also want to dance on the other side, where no one else has been.

  And I want to go there with him.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I nod, squirming beneath his intense gaze. Sitting back on his haunches, he pulls me with him then snakes his hands behind my back to unclasp my bra, releasing it in a quiet snip but the significance is deafening as the fabric whispers down my arms.

  I cross my arms over my chest as I lie back down. Dean pulls them away. “Don’t hide from me. I want to see all of you.” Snip

  Holding my eyes, he takes off my panties, dragging them down my legs slowly before unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans, situating his body over mine.

  A shiver races through me, realization of what is about to happen penetrating every nerve. He nudges my opening.

  I tense. “Wait…shouldn’t we use a condom?”

  His mouth touches mine. “I’ll pull out. I need to feel all of you, Sylvie.”

  I can feel him pressing against me, my heart pounding like a loud drum in my ears. I find it impossible to swallow and even harder to speak so I nod my consent.

  He begins to move, easing inside of me slowly. I cry out, the burning sensation almost too much to bear as he fills me one painful inch at a time.

  Oh God, it hurts so badly.

  I can’t catch my breath as I try to hold back the tears. Dean stops, stroking my hair with his hands as he lands kisses on my lips and cheeks.

  “It’s okay,” he whispers.

  I take in a few calming breaths, telling myself that if I can get past the worst part of it then I can enjoy the good parts.

  “Ready?” he asks.

  I nod again, words impossible right now.

  He drops his forehead to mine and pushes all the way inside of me in one hard thrust. Burning pain like I’ve never known invades my body. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as I attempt to breathe through it.

  This is awful and nothing like I expected it to be.

  “Dean, it hurts,” I grit.

  “I know, baby, I’m sorry. It won’t hurt next time, I promise.” I want to believe him but I’m not so sure. I’m not sure I ever want to do this again. Dean rocks back and forth, going deeper with every thrust. I almost tell him to stop, but the more he moves the less pain I feel. My fingers dig into his back as I pray for it to end but eventually, the pain ebbs into a dull ache.

  Then Dean tenses, a look of pleasure smothering his face as he quickly pulls out of me. A sense of loss washes over me, my innocence abandoned here on a dead-end road in the middle of the night. I feel like a different person, yet still the same. Either way, I know my life has changed forever.

  Though, I have no idea just how much truth those words would carry.

  Past

  My mother’s eyes are filled with unshed tears as she adjusts my veil. This is my mother’s veil. I’m also wearing her wedding gown, the same one she wore the day she married my father almost twenty years ago.

  Although, we had to have it taken out a little around the midsection so my tiny bump wouldn’t be quite so obvious.

  I guess you can say things moved pretty fast with Dean. His need for me only intensified and I fed off of it like a starved child. We got careless, and six weeks later, I took a test that changed our lives forever.

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror, I twist from side to side. It’s not too noticeable, but everyone knows, or at the very least suspects I’m pregnant. Why else would a seventeen-year-old girl get married, unless she’s absolutely crazy?

  “I can’t believe my baby is getting married and having a baby.” My mother dabs the corners of her eyes with a tissue, smiling weakly back at me. She’s been crying all day. And while I couldn’t really blame her, I didn’t want to cry on my wedding day.

  She wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me close as tears fill my own eyes. “You don’t have to do this. We’ll help you take care of the baby while you go to community college. You can live with us forever if you want.” I’m pretty sure those weren’t my father’s sentiments. He couldn’t even look at me without disappointment in his eyes.

  “Everything will be okay, Mama. I promise.”

  “But do you love him?” she asks, and my troubled heart aches.

  Answering quickly, I give her the reassurance she’s seeking. “Of course I do.”

  I do love Dean. Very much. But this is not how I imagined my life would be. I haven’t even graduated high school yet and here I am, pregnant and about to get married. Dean promises me he will take care of us and I believe him, but the truth is I’m scared to death.

  I have no idea how to be someone’s mother much less someone’s wife and the pull Dean has on me feels like it’s impossible to escape, his need for me too powerful to fight. The more time we spend together, the more I begin to realize that darkness inside of him runs deep.

  Much deeper than I thought.

  A week after I found out I was pregnant, he came to pick me up from school, arriving just as I was walking out with Linc. You would think I was making out with him the way Dean reacted. He was so angry. If I hadn’t gotten between them…there’s no telling what Dean would have done.

  Fortunately, I was able to calm him down. However, his possessiveness and jealousy has only grown stronger since. Anytime I even mention Linc’s name, I can expect a fight. To the point where I avoid mentioning him at all. I know it has a lot to do with Dean’s insecurities. The way his parents treated him and his sister growing up and how they pretty much abandoned them both before they died.

  So in an effort to reassure Dean, I distanced myself from Linc.

  I hate it.

  I hate not being able to talk to him whenever I want and share my life with him. It’s killing me inside, like a part of my heart is slowly dying.

  A knock sounds at the door, forcing me to step away, and I am relieved when I hear Linc’s voice. “Is it safe to come in?”

  “Sure, c’mon in, sweetie,” my mother says.

  A gasp tumble
s from my lips as he walks into the room, looking devastatingly handsome dressed in his tux. I wasn’t sure if he would show up today because he’s been so distant lately. I know he’s disappointed about me not going to Nashville with him. To be honest, I am, too.

  Linc kisses my mother’s cheek, never taking his eyes off of me. “Mind if I have a moment alone with my girl, Mrs. Dawson?”

  My chest tightens, knowing soon I won’t be his girl anymore. Soon, I will belong to someone else.

  Looking between the two of us, she smiles. “Sure. I’ll send your father back in about ten minutes, sweetheart.” My mother hugs me once more before leaving the room.

  The second the door closes, Linc clasps my hand in his, the warmth of his touch gifting me with a small measure of comfort. “How’re you feeling?” he asks, his voice a little shakier than usual.

  I shrug, unsure if he’s asking about my mental condition or physical one. “No nausea today, so that’s good.”

  He nods and takes a step closer, bringing an extreme amount of heat with him. My face flames and my body reacts the way it always has.

  Guilt smothers me.

  I’m about to marry another man. I’m pregnant with his child for heaven’s sake, but the feelings I have for Linc are still prevalent. Being with Dean hasn’t diminished that in the least. And I think that’s what terrifies me the most.

  That these feelings will never go away.

  “There’s…there’s something I need to tell you.” The hand holding mine squeezes before he closes his eyes and exhales a long breath. “You can’t marry Dean.”

  I jerk my hand from his and turn to face the mirror. I can’t look him in the eyes right now, because if I do he might see right through me. “Don’t be ridiculous, Linc. We’ve talked about this. This is the right thing to do.”

  His eyes hold mine in the mirror, looking into the deepest part of my soul; he speaks softly but with underlying conviction. “I’m in love with you.”

  My hand flies to my throat but it does nothing to stop my heart from trying to pound its way out of my chest. He reaches for my arm and spins me in place. His warm hands cradle my cheeks, desperate eyes locking with mine. “I’m in love with you, Sylvie. I’ve always been in love with you. I was just too damn scared to do anything about it. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, or worse, lose you. I can’t lose you. Please, don’t marry him. Please. Because someday, I want you to marry me.”

  I bathe in his words. The ones I have longed to hear from him for so long. But just as quick as they invade my heart, they destroy my soul completely. Anger gnaws at my gut as blood heats in my veins.

  Why is he doing this now?

  Now that it’s too late.

  Reaching for his wrists, I pull his hands away from my face, but his touch obliterates my resolve. He holds me steady, and before I can protest, his lips seize mine.

  In my head I scream no.

  I know I should not be kissing Linc just minutes before I am to marry Dean, but my heart selfishly takes everything it can from this kiss.

  Because, deep down, I know this can never happen again.

  Slipping my hands between his arms, I clutch his smooth face, pulling in a deep breath through my nose, inhaling every single breath of him. His tongue tangles with mine possessively as he wraps his arms around my waist, holding me close.

  I never want him to let me go.

  I want to lose myself in this moment forever.

  My mind finally catches up with the moment and what we’re doing. My hands shove at the wall of his chest but he doesn’t budge.

  “Sylvie,” he pleads against my lips, and my heart crumbles.

  Tears clog my throat as I push at his arms, twisting my head away from his seeking mouth. “Linc, please.”

  His forehead rests on my cheek, both of us searching for air.

  After a few moments, I take a step back, attempting to regain some shred of composure. Then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror once more. Taking in my bloodshot eyes and my swollen lips.

  Shame swallows me whole.

  Linc continues to hold my hand. “Please don’t do this. I can’t leave this room without you,” he says, pain embedded in his voice.

  “It’s too late, Linc.”

  He squeezes my hand tighter. “No, it’s not. It’s never too late.”

  I bring my free hand to my lower belly, knowing damn well it is. I will never regret this child. I plan on being the best mother and wife I can be, but I will always regret not telling Linc how I feel about him.

  I shake my head; unable to find the words I need to let him go.

  He takes a step closer. “Do you love me?”

  “Linc, don’t do this to me, please.”

  His hand shoots to the side of my neck, bringing my eyes to his. “Answer me, Sylvie. Do you love me?”

  He can see it. I know he can. My heart is screaming so loud inside my chest; my ears are ringing with the truth. But if I confess my true feelings for him, it will only make it worse.

  For him and for me.

  “No.”

  He stands silent, hope dying in his eyes right before me. It is too painful to watch so I close my eyes, tears flowing down my burning cheeks.

  “You’re a liar,” he says. “You’ll regret this. Just because you made a mistake doesn’t mean you have to marry the guy.”

  My blood heats as I grit my teeth and jerk his hand away from my face. I walk toward the door, determined to prove I am indeed making the right decision.

  I snatch my bouquet of white calla lilies from the vase, remembering my mother’s request to choose another flower.

  These always make me think of funerals, Sylvie, not weddings. You should go with roses instead.

  Well, I made the right choice about that, too. They couldn’t be more appropriate, considering my youth will die at the altar today, along with all the love I harbor inside for Linc. But hidden deep within the confines of my soul, I know only one of those is the truth.

  Present

  Besides photos, memories can be the only evidence the past ever existed. Some of my memories have faded with time, content to lose their color and shape because they were neither important nor significant enough to hold on to. But most of my memories are still so fresh and vivid, flashing through my mind constantly, spinning on loop like an old record. They feed from my grief and sadness, forcing me to remember.

  Seeing Linc again stirs up a lot of emotions, and I’m drowning in the memories of our past.

  This is why I haven’t seen or talked to Linc in over a year. Not since the day of Dean’s funeral. It hurts too much to remember, and I know now that he’s back he won’t allow me to keep them buried any longer.

  I ignored his proclamation that after all these years he still wants me and went straight back to work. There’s no way I would have been able to finish my shift otherwise. Because I know, as well as anyone, that once Linc sets his mind to something, he follows through with annoying determination.

  And I don’t want to take a walk down memory lane. The wreckage I’d left behind is just too devastating to witness. The wounds are too raw and fresh. Revisiting it is like peeling the scab off a wound that wouldn’t heal.

  It hurts like hell every time.

  I ask Eliza to take his table and finish cashing out the rest of my customers before starting my side work. After rolling up the last of the silverware, I grab my purse and walk out the back door into the employee parking lot, and there he is. Waiting for me.

  Just like he’s always done.

  Linc shoves off the driver’s side door; hands shoved in his front pockets, that confident grin smothering his face. “Did you think it would be that easy to get rid of me?”

  “I can’t talk right now. I need to go pick up Caroline,” I say, trying to sidestep him to get to my car, but he steps in front of me, his heavy gaze pinning me in place.

  “So this is how it’s gonna be?”

  I swallow thickly. “How what’s
gonna be?”

  “You can’t shut me out forever, Syl. We made a promise, remember?”

  “We were in the fifth grade.”

  “So, still counts.” His face softens further and he reminds me of that little boy who stole my heart all those years ago. Before it was hijacked by a thief in the wheat field.

  “How’s Caroline?” he asks. I relax my stance and lower my arms. He knows my weak spots.

  He knows everything.

  I take a moment to really look at him. It’s hard to see every line but I can clearly make out that his sharp jaw is set; sporting a five o’clock shadow and an intensity I’ve never seen before. I can see it in the way he looks at me, the way he’s standing, just out of arm’s reach but close enough to let me know he’s here. And he’s not going anywhere. Now that I really look at him, he looks tired. The crinkled skin fanning the corners of his eyes has grown deeper, worry buried within the lines. Pretty sure I’m the cause of some of that.

  That’s why it’s just best to steer clear of him and everyone else for that matter.

  “She’s okay. We’re fine,” I reassure him, trying to suppress the deep ache re-emerging in my chest.

  “I miss her, Syl.” He collects a step forward, cupping my elbow. “I miss you.”

  I sigh, dragging my eyes to the ground, because the selfish part of me wants to throw myself in his arms and fall apart. Let him figure out how to put the pieces back together, but I can’t do that. I’ve caused him enough pain. He deserves better than that. “Linc, please don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Don’t fuckin’ care? Stop asking me to do that. It’s pissin’ me off. It’s time to face this, Syl. You can’t keep hiding from everyone.”

  “I’m not hiding.”

  “You forget who you’re talkin’ to here. I know you. Better than anyone. I’ve given you time to work it out on your own, but you gotta let me back in, Syl. Let me help you through this.”

  I turned that longing into anger. It was the only way I could keep from giving in to my greedy heart. “I’m not doing this right now. I just pulled a double, my feet hurt like hell, and now you’re making my head hurt.”

  His jaw tics but his voice remains calm. “Then when?”

 

‹ Prev