Theresa Paolo - (Never) Again

Applause erupted around me. Sadie jumped up and whistled. I flashed her a smile and a nod and made my exit.

I was through being a doormat. I was through being in a relationship where I kept a part of me closed off because I was too scared to be hurt again.

I thought about going straight to Zach’s, but I was still processing everything. I needed time to myself. Time to figure out what exactly it was I wanted. Did I really want to jump from one relationship to another?

Back at the apartment I eased the door open and tossed my bag on the couch. Since all my friends (and ex-friends) were at Trax, I had nowhere to go. It was another pajama night.

I walked into my bedroom and froze.

Bent over my desk, pen in hand, scribbling on a piece of paper was the one person I wasn’t ready to talk to.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, and the muscles in his back tensed. His shoulders rose, and I could tell he was taking a deep breath. Slowly, he turned to me.

The Easy Bake Oven sat behind him on my desk, a white piece of paper dangling from his hand.

“Sadie gave me a spare key.” He shoved his hand into his pocket, trying to push the paper with it, but the edges stuck out.

I pointed to the paper. “What is that?”

“Uh. Nothing.” He attempted to push the paper down further, but for once in my life I was quicker than him. I grabbed the edge and pulled.

He didn’t try to stop me. Maybe he wanted me to see it.

I unfolded it and read the words.

Lizzie,

It’s been a long time since I last saw your smile. Not just any smile—the smile that lights up your entire face, the one that’s so contagious everyone around can’t help but smile with you. I got to see that smile again when we spent that night in a crappy hotel room baking cookies in an Easy Bake Oven. So it only seemed right for you to keep it. I hope it will keep you smiling because you not smiling is the second thing I hate most in this world.

-Zach

Tears filled my eyes, but I was sick of crying. I forced them back, but not before one slipped down my cheek.

We both moved at the same time. My arms circled around his neck, his spicy, warm scent surrounding me. His hands rested on my cheeks, his thumb wiping away the fallen tear. Goose bumps sprinkled my neck as his hand ran along my jaw line, before he pulled away. “What about Joe?”

“It’s over.” As the words rolled off my tongue, his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me into him. In one quick motion, his lips captured mine.

It was everything I remembered and more. A year of loss and regret flowed through us. Desperation to make up for the time wasted surged through my fingers as I rediscovered the feel of his skin on mine.

We moved together until the back of my knees hit my bed, and with a yank I pulled him down beside me. I took his face in my hands and kissed him harder, trying to express all of my emotions at once.

My legs tangled with his, and then he rolled me under him. Dark eyes that I’d lost myself in so many times stared down at me. Passion burned hot and he brushed my hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. I closed my eyes and reveled in the warmth that spread through me.

The warmth turned into a raging fire as he kissed a trail down my neck. His hand eased under my shirt and sprawled out on my stomach, rising over my ribs until it cupped my breast. I arched into him, a low moan escaping my lips when his mouth claimed them again.

Cupping my jaw in one hand, he ran the other down my side, resting on the hem of my shirt. I held my arms up and inch by torturous inch he pushed the material of my shirt up my stomach, leaving kisses in its place.

My hands plunged into his silky dark hair, squeezing tight, afraid if I didn’t hold on to something I would float away.

I finally understood what people meant when they said “heaven on earth.” I was there. Nothing could ruin this perfect moment. Nothing.

The shirt came off, landing in a pile of cotton on the floor. Familiar hands spread across my sides, and there were more kisses, until his eyes met mine, lips hovering centimeters away, his breath hot and minty against my skin.

But then the passion turned to something more. Something I knew too well. And I should have welcomed it with open arms, but the pain that came with it prevented me from doing so.

His lips parted and before he could utter the words that would throw my world off its axis, I slid out from under him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, confusion tugging at his features.

It would be easy to stay. To let him love me as I knew he could. But then what? He broke my heart so badly once before—I didn’t think I could go through that again. Allowing this to continue would be putting me on the edge of the fire and the idea of being scorched again scared the shit out of me.

“I . . . uh . . . I forgot I have somewhere I have to be.” I grabbed my shirt, and when his hand reached for mine, I jumped back, knocking into my desk chair.

“Are you okay?” he asked, standing, and I could see the bulge in his pants. Oh God. It wasn’t morning wood either.

I held my shirt in front of me trying to wrap it around my 34B’s.

“I’m fine. I just have somewhere I have to be.”

“Where?”

I wasn’t prepared for him to question me. I didn’t have an answer. All I knew was if I didn’t get out of there I would make a huge mistake. Repeating history—especially a horrible, depressing history—was not on my agenda today.

His eyes narrowed in on me, pinning me with his gaze until I couldn’t take it anymore. Finally I caved, and gave him the truth.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I just can’t do this again. I just can’t.” I ran out of my room.

“Lizzie, I love you.” The words followed me like a bullet. As soon as I let them hit me, I’d be done for.

I spent so many nights waiting to hear those exact words. But now? Now it was too late. There was too much time in between.

I rushed out of my apartment, one arm in my sleeve, pants unbuttoned, hair a rumpled mess, tears streaming down my face. A crackhead jonesing for her next fix looked better than me.

I didn’t care. All I cared about was putting as much distance as I could between me and those eyes.

Zach loved me. I knew it. But what would happen when his love faded, and he stopped calling? I couldn’t do it again. Wouldn’t.

Loving him was the best thing that ever happened to me. Losing him was the worst.

A year of my life spent crying, spent going over every single detail of our last conversation and trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

Where did it go wrong? I still didn’t completely know. And how could we move forward when the past was still very much a part of us? Standing in our path, reminding me of the misery I endured?

For months I’d denied it, but as I pulled my shirt over my head and wiped the tears from my cheeks, I no longer could.

I’d never stopped loving him.

I didn’t know where to go or what to do. I couldn’t go back to my place. I was lucky enough Zach didn’t chase after me. Sadie was out with Matt, and the last place I wanted to go was Trax. So I went back to the only place where I never felt alone.

I went home.

Living on my own with my best friend was amazing, but it lacked the comfort of the familiar. I needed to be surrounded by the walls and the things that were always there for me—silent, inanimate objects, witnesses to my life.

When I arrived home that evening, I found Josh in the living room watching TV, his leg propped up on a pillow, a half-eaten bowl of cereal on the table.