One Week Girlfriend

“Yeah.” He squeezes my butt with his other hand. “I need to get up for a minute. Where’s your bathroom?”

I tell him and watch as he climbs off the bed, his na**d body so beautiful, my chest aches. He goes to the bathroom, disposes the condom and is slipping back into my bed within seconds. I pull the covers over us and rest my head on his shoulder, my arm slung across his stomach. “You’re staying?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything else and neither do I. I can’t. I’m so tired, and it feels so good to fall asleep in Drew’s arms. So right. I sleep like the dead, like I did last night when I was also in his arms.

Drew Callahan is as addicting as any sleeping pill.

When I wake up in the morning…

He’s gone.

~* Chapter Fifteen *~

A new week, a new life

Fable

Dear Fable,

My worst enemy is behind me because of you.

And there’s still a lot left for me to explain.

Right now, all I can think about is you.

So many things in my life confuse me and…

Hurt me—except you.

Maybe we can be together again someday.

All I really want is you, but I can’t do this now.

Losing you will be the hardest thing I’ve dealt with yet.

Loving you might be a mistake. Drawing you into my world will

Only hurt you. And I refuse to do that.

Will you ever forgive me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I love you.

Drew

* * * *

My tears fall like raindrops on the letter Drew wrote me, smudging his hastily written words, and I swipe angrily at my cheeks, wiping the tears away. I study the note, trying to make sense of it all. Why would he leave me? Why would he…

And then I slowly read the letter again. My heart’s racing as I skim the slightly jumbled sentences he wrote just for me, the first letter of each one jumping out at me. I trace every first letter with the tip of my index finger, saying them out loud.

“M-A-R-S-H-M-A-L-L-O-W.”

My heart threatens to burst and I clutch the note to my chest. His secret message fills me with so much hope and love, I start to cry all over again. But these tears, they aren’t sad. Drew’s pushing me away, yet he wants me to rescue him. His letter proves that. But how can I if he won’t really let me?

Determination fills me as I carefully fold the piece of paper I found on my bedside table earlier. I open my top dresser drawer, sticking the letter beneath a folded pile of underwear before I slowly hide it away.

Wiping at the corners of my eyes, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look different. Older, more mature. Less defiant, less…unhappy. Despite the fact that the man I’ve fallen desperately in love with has left me with a stupid, beautifully heartbreaking note and I’ve already cried enough tears to fill the kitchen sink, I am happy.

Because I know Andrew D. Callahan loves me.