Page 61 of Until Summer Ends


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I hate the despair in his voice. Hate that I’m the one who put it there, and that his words echo the ones I told my sister only weeks ago.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go.” I move past him. If he can’t do the goodbye kiss, I can’t do the goodbye, period. However, midway across the room, I turn. If we’re leaving things like this, at least one more thing needs to be put to rest. “I hope you know it was never about you. You were always the best part of this place.”

He wears his heart on his face—the hurt, the longing, the fear. It’s all written on there.

He shakes his head as he rubs a hand over his mouth. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so perturbed. He’s raw, too; all the emotions he’s suppressed since I got here come back to the surface. I stand still as I watch him process it all. Then, his shoulders straighten as if he’s come to a conclusion.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, and in two steps, his hands are on me, his mouth presses to mine, and I take my first full breath in eleven years.

There’s nothing tentative about it. He kisses me like a starved man, like he might have been dreaming about it since the moments our lips parted last. One of his hands grips the back of my head, his other arm wrapped around my lower back so I’m pressed as close to him as can be. I grip his shirt as he angles my head back to access more of me.

Just like the rest of him, his kiss is familiar yet entirely different. Whereas eighteen-year-old Eli was cautious and exploring, twenty-nine-year-old Eli is confident in what he’s doing. The way his fingertips scratch my neck, how he’s taken control of me… I don’t think I’ll ever recover. Seeing him, being close to him, was one thing, but this? There’s no moving on from it.

The movement of his lips feels like an assault, nipping at my bottom lip when I grind against his hip, his tongue tangling with mine the moment I let him in. He’s hard against me, and the feel of it makes heat pool between my legs. I don’t think my body has ever felt this wired up.

His mouth tastes like mint and a hint of whiskey, but also like something that’s entirelyhim. I stand on my tiptoes so I can wrap my arms around his head, wanting him closer, deeper.

And as fast as it all happened, his hands are gone. My swollen lips sting as I watch him step back. He breathes loudly, eyes not meeting mine. He rubs a hand over his mouth, again and again as he stares at the bedroom floor. As heavenly as I’m feeling, he looks like I’ve dragged him to hell. Finally, he says, “Guess you got your goodbye kiss after all.”

“Eli…”

He walks out before I can say anything.

Chapter 24

Back when I moved into my first apartment in the city, I couldn’t sleep for weeks. The amount of noise surrounding me felt otherworldly. I couldn’t ignore the drunk people shouting in the street below at 3:00 a.m., or the honks and alarms going off at all times, or the neighbors having loud, intense sex all the time. It was like a zoo. My home might have sometimes been loud, but I’d never known anything except a quiet town, and here was constant stimulation at full intensity. It was unnerving, but also strangely exhilarating. I eventually got used to it and learned how to sleep through it all, even when my sixty-year-old roommate got diagnosed with sleep apnea and started using a machine that could rouse the dead throughout the night. It became the new normal. In fact, the first night I spent back in Cape Weston, I missed that noise. The utter stillness was destabilizing, kind of like the world had shut down around me. And now, I’m in a limbo where nowhere is comfortable. Not here, not there.

As the sun slowly rises above the ocean, I stand in the driveway, taking in Ruth’s house one last time. Yesterday morning, the realtor left me a message to confirm they’d received a nice offer for a move–in date in September. A “lovely young family of four,”she said. I should be happy nice people are going to get the house that was so good to me, but the only thing I feel right now is lost. I don’t know what I want, don’t know where I need to be, don’t know what the hell I’m doing with my life. I gaze at the flower beds I’ve slowly brought back to life, turquoise hydrangeas starting to bloom. It’s nothing close to how Ruth used to keep it, but I don’t have a green thumb, and that was the best I could do. The gnome is still there, smiling at me, waiting for new people to keep the key I left under it. My gaze slowly drifts left, and the pressure in my chest turns into complete inability to draw in a breath.

Last night shouldn’t have happened. When Eli left and didn’t come out of the guest bedroom, I let myself out and cursed myself all the way to Ruth’s house. This was not how the month was supposed to end. In fact, he was not supposed to come into play this summer. I was here to tie up some loose ends and collect myself before going back to my real life. I was not here to kiss the love of my teenage life and fall in love with his daughter. I was supposed to want to rush out of here once I was done.

So why can’t I get into my car?

I should already be on my way to stop by Keira’s and Mom’s to say goodbye if I want to avoid as much traffic as possible. It’s a perfect travel day, with clear skies and no chance of rain. The sunlight is warm on my skin even at the early hour, the sea breeze rustling softly through my hair. The car is all packed, filled to the brim with the stuff I kept from Ruth’s, and all the scrapbooking material I haven’t sifted through entirely yet. I’mready.

My phone buzzes in succession in my purse.

Em: Can’t wait to see you

Em: The whole unit is hyped that you’re back

Em: Viet takeout tonight? xx

Em: Also, Betty has a thing on Wednesday night and asked me to ask you if you could cover her and do a double? LMK!

A knot settles in my stomach, one I haven’t felt in weeks, and it only heightens my state of crisis. I thought I was doing better. These past weeks, I didn’t feel dread when waking up in the morning. I thought I was, if not happy, then at least ready to function again.

I look back at the neighboring house, stock still in the morning light. Zoe will be waking up soon, padding downstairs so she can pour herself a bowl of cereal—or more liketryto pour a bowl of cereal, drop most of the box next to the bowl, then ask for someone to come help her. That someone was me for a couple of days, when Eli was sleeping after having come back late from an event. He’ll be getting up, too, his hair mussed from sleep, and also from my hands having tugged at it yesterday. Will he be thinking about that kiss the way I am, the way I did all night? Will he be regretting that he ever saw me again? Or regretting that we stopped after only a kiss?

My eyes alternate between my phone, my car, and Eli’s house.

Phone, car, house. Phone, car, house.

The last time I felt this lost was when Ruth told me to go all those years ago. It was the same dilemma, too. A place I never wanted to stay in, but the man in it who made me rethink it all. Except last time, I did want to see what was on the other side of that choice. The city represented hope. Now, I know what’s waiting for me: shifts I will have to endure rather than enjoy, a lonely apartment, and an even lonelier heart.

Me: Free to talk?

Em: Always <3