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gretavanmoon · 7 months ago

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Caught in a Daze

Spinning Now: "Ex" by Aer (2014) (and a little bit of "Wonderin' Why")

Pairing: Sam x OC

Word Count: 12.2k

Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Manipulation, Cheating, Sadness, Bad Coping Mechanisms, Hella Angst

Smut including: Kissing, Touching, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Reluctant Dominance if you squint

+ So these songs aren't ones that were suggested by you guys, but Aer has always been one of my favorite groups, and these two songs have kind of always gone hand in hand for a little storyline playing out in my head. Not much thought went into this, but sad surfer boy Sam just felt too appealing to pass up lol. Give them a listen if you don't know them, they'll make you want to live in a little beach town with nothing better to do than skate & surf <33

◇ ◇ ◇

A glance to your watch lets you know it's nearing eleven, but the bloom of warmth in your chest from your scotch on the rocks is making you forget about your impending 9AM clock-in. The bartender, Marcus, raises an eyebrow at you as you slide the empty glass his way, silently asking for a refill.

“Same thing, Sammy? Since when did you start drinking scotch, anyway?” he asks, refilling your glass with a handful of ice before pouring the Johnny Walker overtop of it. You return his question with a menacing glare; he knows exactly when you switched from whatever draft IPA was on tap to… this. You watch the ice cubes swirl around in the glass as it fills, keeping silent as your bare foot taps on the wood-slat floor beneath your barstool. “Oh. Right, nevermind,” he responds with a bite of his tongue before being approached by another patron.

You sigh as you turn in your stool beside the ice machine, running a hand through your saltwater-damp strands, feeling the effects of forgetting to put sunscreen across your cheeks this morning. The icy liquor hits your teeth as you sip from the edge of the glass, letting the fire ignite inside your chest again. The feeling is one you’ve become fond of as of late, but you know the headache that will accompany it will have you kicking yourself in the ass tomorrow. The wind is blowing the palms Eastward, and the warmth of the humid air feels like a storm may be preparing to blow through, if you had to guess.

Sand is still gritting between your teeth every now and then as you people-watch at the crowded beachfront bar, Donovan’s, watching as locals and tourists alike dance and sing along with the house band. The multicolored spinning lights are bouncing off the faces of the strangers mixed in with your acquaintances, and you suddenly feel a little envious that you aren’t out there enjoying being alive with them.

A year ago, you would have been right in the middle of it all, stealing the microphone away from the front man, belting out the words to Sweet Caroline or Margaritaville, but now, things are different. Now, you stick to the sidelines in a way that you never have before. Your entire mind, body, and soul have been overtaken by a completely new human being, someone that you aren’t familiar with, drifting further and further away from your true self as the sun rises and sets over the ocean.

Are you happy with yourself?

No, not necessarily. But what the fuck is your other option? You can’t run away to a new place, and you can’t ignore the elephant in the room, so instead of taking control of your life, you let it have you. You bask in the fact that this degenerate side of your lifestyle has become more addictive than any drug you’ve ever done, and you have to admit, it’s more delicious than you could have ever imagined.

◇

A few years ago, now, you’d ridden into this tiny little beach town with your surfboard riding behind you on your baby pink Schwinn bike. You’d come here with nothing but an oversized backpack stuffed full of ratty t-shirts and a few pairs of board shorts, a straw hat, and your lucky koozie in your back pocket. You barely even had more than $300 in your wallet. You’d spent the first week sleeping on the beach and avoiding high-tides, riding around town looking for a job and a place to stay that had a decent roof.

Finally, after four or five days of searching, you’d landed a job as a surf instructor at the Ten Down surf shop, working Wednesday through Sunday for minimum wage plus tips. You were over the moon, of course, working in the field of what you knew and loved best, the ocean.

Growing up as the only child of a single dad was oftentimes more difficult than it was enjoyable, but your father took the hardships in stride. He’d raised you alone, working while you were at school and then teaching you how to surf in the evenings. Even if your father struggled, you never knew it. He was a wild character, always the life of the party and had more wisdom in his pinky finger than you had in your whole body. All your memories of him are fond, and he taught you more about life than you’d ever learned on your own.

He was street smart, intelligent in ways that didn’t make sense to other people. And damn, if he didn’t love the ocean. Loved it so much that he devoted his life to it. And in the end, it was the ocean that took him away from you. Why he thought venturing out during a storm by himself is beyond you still to this day, and you’ve only just now started to forgive him for it. Maybe it had something to do with your mom not being there to help raise you. Maybe he thought he was more powerful than the waves he rode. You’ll never know.

It was only a week after you got hired at Ten Toes that your co-worker Scotty figured out that your home was somewhere up underneath the pier, and asked if you’d like to crash on his couch with him and his housemates. You couldn’t turn down his offer, of course, knowing that if you had to sleep one more night with the sandflies you might actually move back to your shitty hometown. The house was small, but big enough to hold his three roommates and you on their sofa.

In hindsight, that might have been the absolute best year of your entire life, thus far. Everyone you lived with was on the same level as you… surfing to live, and living to surf. You shared meals, met their families, partied way too much, and spent every single night together watching the sun drift down below the waves from your seats on your boards. You were making money, you were having more fun than you ever imagined possible. You were in a constant state of bliss, that is until she came around and turned your entire world upside down.

The day your manager introduced her as the new hire at the shop was the first day of the rest of your life. Her sweet and timid hand taking yours into a handshake, taking your breath straight from your lungs as she introduced herself as ‘Cora’. You became enraptured by her, the way her green eyes poked through her lashes, the way her freckles sat perfectly across her tanned face, the way her long hair reached far past her waist…

She was the newest hire at the shop, just like you had been the summer previous, so you understood completely how it could be a little difficult to grasp how things went, there. So you took her under your wing a little, volunteering to show her the ropes and walk her through her probie-period of learning. She was shy at first, hardly giving you more than a few sentences a day. But you committed each of those sentences to your memory, hanging on her every word like they were the last ones you’d ever hear uttered from her perfectly pink lips.

Over the period of that summer, your shy coworker became your good friend, and as the blaze of the summer started to drift into the coolness of Fall, your good friend became the one you ended up falling asleep with under the pier, this time by choice.

You fell fast and hard for one another, freefalling blindly into what felt like a bottomless pit that the two of you would never tire of floating through. Everything was perfect, she was perfect. Every waking hour was spent with her, surfing, hiking, biking, socializing… and the sleeping hours were spent wrapped up in each other, tangling your limbs and intricately weaving your emotions into what you could only describe as pure and effortless love.

She came out of her shell once she became comfortable with you, spending more and more time away from her own roommates to crash out on the futon in your room you were able to acquire when one of Scotty’s buddies moved out. For the longest time, it felt like life couldn’t get any better, like you’d truly hit the peak, and there was no way you’d ever be able to be any happier than this, here, with her.

‘Love, Sammy… you love me?’

‘With everything I am, baby, I swear…’

And you did, you really and truly did love her. All the other failed relationships of your past dulled in comparison to what you had with Cora. You didn’t have to try with her, the ease of your lives came and went just as easily as the waves crashed onto the beach and drifted away again, always unfaltering and headstrong.

You weren’t even upset when she decided to get a second job at the only 24-hour restaurant in town waiting tables during the lunch and dinner shifts. In fact, you were happy, seeing as how the two of you had begun to save up a little money to rent a place of your own.

You weren’t upset when she began to pick up more shifts there at the restaurant than she did at Ten Down. And you weren’t even pissed when she started bringing home more money than you, even after you’d been employed at the shop for almost two years. You shrugged it all off, because you were a team, in this together, sharing everything under the sun as you survived the world with her.

You weren’t pissed. Not even in the least.

Until one night in early summer when you woke up on a Saturday morning ready to rush to the shop for your surf lesson, pulling yourself from the sheets only to realize she wasn’t asleep next to you. You checked the bathroom, the other guys’ bedrooms, outside on the porch… she was nowhere. And her bike wasn’t parked outside.

Her phone went straight to voicemail over and over and over, and her texts pulled up green as you began to realize her phone was off. Panic set in as your mind began to rush with possibilities of if she was hurt or harmed… thoughts back to last night reminded you that you’d crashed out early after a smoke session with Scotty, sending her a sweet goodnight text that assured her not to work too hard.

After telling Scotty to call you if he heard back from her, you took off on your bike down the sandy street toward the restaurant, hoping to talk to someone who may have closed with her last night.

“Nope, they cut a couple of us at 11:30 and sent us home, I haven’t seen her since…” one of her coworkers told you, only sending your panic into a deeper spiral. You called her roommates, her friends, hell, you ever texted her mom to see if anyone had spoken to her since yesterday. But all came up empty handed. It was like she had vanished.

You decided to ride to the shop to see if by some miraculous chance she’d be there, ready to work her shift. Your feet pedaled hard as you zipped through alleyway shortcuts and across parking lots to get there faster, your heart pounding in your ears as you continually checked your phone for any updates. Your tires slid sideways across the pebble gravel as you let your bike fall against the tin building, and you rushed inside in a huffed mess of nerves and sweaty exhaustion.

You yelled through the building at your coworkers, announcing your arrival. Your voice was chopped and strained as your hands shook with anticipation.

“Damon, Marie! Have you guys heard from–”

You were stopped in your tracks as you met eyes with her, seated at the check-in desk sipping coffee from a bright orange mug.

“What the FUCK! Cora, where– why…where have you been?” you squealed as you approached her, your hand reaching out to touch her to see if you were imagining things. “Why weren’t you at home?” Your last sentence came out as a hushed whisper only meant for her, as your other two coworkers walked away from the scene.

Her normally chipper and honest demeanor was replaced by something you weren’t familiar with as her eyes fell from yours, her words skipped and uncertain as she tried to explain herself.

“It’s nothing, Sammy, baby… I– I went over to Cameron’s for drinks with some of the restaurant crew after work last night… I had too many drinks and decided I shouldn’t ride home, shouldn’t walk, it’s nothing, I just…stayed there.” Her story would make sense if she had ever fucking done something like that before.

“Cameron’s? Baby, you hardly know him, and where is your phone? I’ve been calling all morning…” you pestered, still out of breath.

“It’s dead, it’s in my bag…” she said, leaving her sentence with no more explanation as she nonchalantly sipped at her coffee.

“And you didn’t think to charge it? To text me from someone else’s phone to let me know where you were? Fuck, Cora, I almost sent out a search party out for you…” your voice began to raise. “You never–why did you…?” You were at a loss for words as you tried to understand her reasoning. You knew she would have been just as worried if it were you… well, you think. Your blood was boiling for a whole other reason now, as you knew she deliberately chose to keep you in the dark for the entire night, and well into the morning.

She stood from her stool as she glanced to the double glass doors behind you, meeting eyes with her family of three for their early morning surf lessons. She placed her hand gently on the center of your chest as she still avoided eye contact. “Sam, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Please, don’t be mad…” She left you standing there in the middle of the shop like a dumbfounded idiot, her explanation offering you quite literally nothing. Your hands dropped to your sides as you fought with admitting defeat. That was really fucked up of her…

Things only got progressively worse after that. What once was a loving and beautiful sex-fueled relationship turned into one of secrecy and absence, the action of her not returning to your bed each night becoming something you got quite used to.

Drag-out fights left her crying in your arms, pulling her back into your shanty of a home you’d finally found for $400 a month. Both of you soaked from tears and the rain outside after you told her to just go… only to have her tumbling back into your bed, ravishing each other like it was the first time you’d ever laid your hands on her.

‘Don’t make me go, Sammy… this is our home… it’s ours…” she’d beg as you fucked into her, sprawled out across the mattress.

‘I’m not making you go… you keep choosing to leave…”

But yet, the vicious cycle continued. The best thing in your world, the most joy you had ever felt, continuously choosing to stay away for days on end like some type of terrifying nightmare. After so long, you stopped following her location on your phone. You stopped making sure she was okay, wherever she was. You stopped letting her into your house when she’d come back begging for another chance.

Fuck it, you’d decided, losing all the fight you had left in you when you heard through the grapevine that it wasn’t her partying that kept her at Cameron’s, it was Cameron himself.

That was the fight to end all fights. The worst one yet, when she did everything but admit that she’d been cheating all along. God damnit, you should have known. All the red flags were whipping across your face, your gut screaming at you day in and day out to listen to it. But you didn’t, because you loved her. Until that fight.

That was a long, long time ago. And after that, she never came back home.

◇

Tonight, as you work on your third scotch and deliberate on going and scooping up a girl on the dancefloor and sneaking her away for a night of revelry, your mind feels more jostled than normal.

For the past five weeks or so, Cora had inched her way back into your life after a year of separation, friendly at first, and seemingly more mature than when she had left. But, like the addictive drug that she was, she cast her spell across you, hypnotizing you into falling back into bed with her on multiple drunken occasions.

‘I’m still trying to fucking heal from you Cora, none of this feels right…’

‘I know it doesn’t baby… I’m so sorry… but nobody can love me as good as you… nobody can get me right like you can…do you know what I mean? I still crave you, baby… Don’t tell me you don’t miss me…”

After five backslides, you’d begun to fall into a routine with her again, not giving one single fuck if she was with Cameron or not. She’s still beyond addictive, a substance so disturbingly pure that you swear she isn’t as tainted and devious as she seems. Her entire being is laced with some kind of other material that you swear could end up being your demise.

The sex is even better than it was before, rounds upon rounds of the most beautiful love you’ve ever made, but you know deep down that it is far from such. There is no love in that home. No laughs shared, no blissful reconnections that end with breakfast in bed. No early morning dates out riding the waves together… No, all you do is indulge in each other’s bodies after nights of too much weed and too much alcohol, using each other to get exactly what you want and nothing else.

You can’t seem to pull yourself away from her spell, sneaking her into bar bathrooms and out onto the beach to hide her in the dunes, spilling yourself into her without a care of any repercussions. You’re drunk on her. A slave to your impulses, a traitor to your own devices. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. You know your heart still lives within her, but hers is so far gone that you don’t think it has a home at all. And you know for a fact that it doesn’t belong to you, anymore.

You think you’ve successfully managed to slip through the cracks on her list tonight, not having seen her for a few days, now. You don’t frequent this bar in search of her, like many of your friends think you do. You were here first, this is your spot. But apparently it’s hers again, too, much to your simultaneous dismay, and deep-seeded pull to fulfill your dependency on her. It’s a double edged sword any way you toss it.

“Haven’t seen her tonight, Sammy, maybe you’ve escaped her wrath yet again,” Scotty jokes as he slides into the barstool beside you. Scotty knows everything about you, and you him. You’d never admitted it to one another, but you’d probably call him your best friend. After living and working side by side with him for the past three years, you’ve been forced to like each other no matter how opposite you may be. You both share a love for surfing and it’s a language you both can understand, so when it comes to your fateful relationship with Cora, he gets it.

“Yeah, maybe so,” you agree with a sigh. “Kinda weird for a Saturday though. She’s usually got her fingers in my belt loops by now.”

Scotty scoffs a laugh, running a hand through his waves. “God damn, you’re still tied up in her eh? You ever gonna let yourself be happy?”

You sigh a deep breath of disappointment in yourself. “Tied up’s not the words, Scott. I’m fully aware that I’m a sick individual who can’t seem to stay the fuck away from her. Why am I like this?” You ask your friend over the loud music. “Should I seek help?”

“No helping you, little brother!” Scotty teases as he rustles the hair on your head. “She must squeeze that thing right,” he jokes.

“Yeah, she fuckin’ does,” you agree, avoiding eye contact with him. “That’s all it is now, man. Swear.”

“Don’t lie to me, Sammy boy. I know you better than that shit. You telling me you have no emotions when you sleep with her? No feelings anymore?”

You grit your teeth, holding back the truth. “I dunno, I mean… we were serious, man. I loved her. Now that we’re doing this shit again…” Your inner monologue with yourself fights to the death once again, your head and your heart fighting an endless battle with one another. “It just is what it is right now.”

“She still with ol’ boy?” He asks.

You shrug. “Don’t know. Don’t care,” you say blankly as you take another sip from your glass.

“So you’re just fucking, now. No strings attached?”

“That’s it, my friend,” the admission feels lifeless, as you know you still hold a candle for her.

“You know she’s using you right? This can’t be healthy for you…I know she broke your fucking heart, man,” Scotty goes on, adding a little empathy to his tone.

You simmer on his words for a second, knowing they came from a place of complete honesty. He’s entirely right.

“I’m guilty, I’ll admit to that,” you say. “My heart’s losing but. My body’s winning,” you cheese a smile at him, feeling transparent as you admit to letting a woman use you for just your body.

“Livin’ the fucking dream, my guy,” Scotty laughs hard as he places a hand on your shoulder, finishing off his beer. “You want another?” He asks as you turn back to lean on the bar, finally feeling the effects of your intoxication hitting you hard. Numbing the pain you so often succumb to.

“Ah, maybe one more. Gotta open tomorrow,” you say, winking to the bartender to add one more to your tab.

“You still uh, you still think the deal’s gonna go down?” Scotty asks as he leans his head in closely to yours.

“Hope so, everything is on track for it to be official by beginning of next season,” you explain. You hadn’t told many people yet, but the original owners of Ten Toes had decided to take an early retirement, and since you and Scotty had become their most trusted and knowledgeable employees, they offered you the business as a partnership. “You think we can do this?”

It’s a large endeavor, and you are terrified beyond belief, but you try your best to see it as the opportunity of a lifetime, taking the reigns of an already successful business and making it into your own. All the pieces are already there, all you need to do is sign your name, and your dream career of being an entrepreneur is yours for the taking.

Scotty takes his new beer in his hand, leaning it in to cheers against your glass. “I think we can do this.”

You nod at him as the two of you share a moment, letting the realization fall on you once again. “We growing up, finally, Sammy boy?”

Just as his question rings through your ears, you catch sight of her. The pretty blonde who holds every single key to all the chambers of your heart. The one you’d settled down with, the one who could truly care less about anything besides stringing you along for no more benefit than her own agenda.

She catches your gaze from across the bar, pulling her hair behind her ear as she begins to saunter your way through the crowd.

“I hope so, Scott. Maybe tomorrow, though. Looks like I’m staying an immature asshole for tonight.” You tilt your chin her way, causing Scotty to follow your gaze her way.

“Fuck. She showed. Thought you might actually get a night of freedom,” Scott complains with the slightest bit of clip to his tone. You know Scotty is worried about you, wants the best for you. And you do, too, but for tonight you’re going to allow yourself to think with the wrong head yet again. And with that tight dress she has on, you’re going to fucking enjoy it, too.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, man,” Scott says with defeat as he slides his half-drank beer mug across the bartop.

“Night Scott.”

Her eyes haven’t left yours since you caught sight of her, the breeze blowing up the ruffles at the bottom of her stark white dress. She’s making her way closer, her perfectly tanned legs sauntering across the floor as you finally break your gaze, turning to the bartender to order her a drink.

You feel her presence behind you, the smell of her perfume already wafting across your nose. She pulls the stool that Scott had just inhabited a few inches closer to you, leaning her chin down into the crook of her folded arms.

“Where’s Cameron?” you ask lowly as the bartender slides her glass in front of her.

“Hello to you too, Sam,” she barks from behind her arm, sitting up to squeeze the lime into the vodka.

You cut your eyes her way, knowing that sometimes it wasn’t unlike her to show up at this bar and flirt her way into your embrace, only for Cameron to show up an hour later and whisk all of her attention right away. It’d only happened a couple of times, but still yet, it stung.

“I said where is Cameron?” you bite, really not feeling like pursuing this if he was going to show up.

She sighs a quick breath of aggravation. “Not here. Not coming.”

You sip at the scotch that’s discontinued burning your lips, now numbing not only your mouth but your ability to make decisions, too. “You came all the way over here by yourself, again?”

Cora flips her brown leather bag up onto the bar, her multiple keychains hanging off of it clanking against the wooden bar. “Yeah, Sam, I did. I’m actually… back in town, kind of…” she trails off, smoothing her waist-long locks against her hip.

All the blood rushes from your head, straight into your extremities. Fuck. Back in town?!

“What do you mean kind of?” you ask, beginning to tap your toes against the bottom rung of your stool again.

“I mean I’m working on getting back over this way… looking for a.. place…” She speaks almost as if she’s embarrassed to be admitting this to you.

“What, things not working out in la la land?” you scoff.

“Can you cut the shit, Sam?” she slams her glass down. “God, everything has to turn into some bullshit argument with you. Every single time.”

You can feel the resentment billowing up in your chest. You know that she has regret, and she lets it show every time you’re together. But you revel in the fact that she made her bed, now she has to lie in it. And everytime she ends up back in your bedroom, you press the dagger a little further, knowing that hurting her just as much as she hurt you is enough to get you through. Until the next time, of course.

“I’m not arguing, Cor. Just asking.” You make a point to keep your words short. If an argument is going to happen, again, it won’t be by your hand.

She huffs. “I just… want to be on my own right now. Figure my shit out. Plus the surf sucks down there, anyway.” You can tell she’s lying.

You smile behind your glass. “Cameron only lives fifteen minutes away, doll. Can’t imagine it’s that much different.”

“Why are you pushing the Cameron agenda? We’re not even–”

“Not together? Do you think I’m stupid, Cora? People talk, and I talk back. It’s not a fucking mystery,” you run your tongue behind your teeth as you feel the rage boiling up in you again, knowing that this fourth scotch isn’t doing much to help. “Everyone knows what happened, what you did to me. So just admit it, you’re unhappy because the grass wasn’t greener. Now you want your old life back, that what it is?”

You know this isn’t a discussion that needs to be held at this bar. You know that your words are flying a lot faster than you’d intended. But you deserve to bitch.

“Sam, you really don’t want to do this,” Cora hums as you hear the band move from one song to the next, the crowd finally riling up at the late hour.

Your skin is burning with rage at the realization that she’s seriously thinking about moving back here again, after everything that had happened. After knowing what she did to you. Cheated, lied… then allowed herself to play you like a marionette, a puppet she could call on whenever she needed a quick fuck.

No. No. This is your home, now.

“No, I kinda do, Cora,” you raise your voice a little, turning your body toward her to face her completely in your stool. You could feel the intoxication slurring your words and blurring your vision. “Admit it. You left me because I obviously wasn’t what you wanted, so you ran away without even having the decency to tell me why… to even break things off before you hopped into bed with Cameron. Admit it! You came here looking for me tonight, didn’t you? Looking for the same goddamned thing you always are.” You were borderline yelling at her, now. But it felt good. It felt good to finally get it all out, the alcohol doing away with all your inhibitions.

She cowered away a little, sitting back in her seat as her face got more red with each passing second. But you’re smarter than that, this is all part of her act.

“You think I came here just so you’d take me home again, Sam?”

“Yeah, Cora! What the fuck else would you be here for?! This happens way more than it should. Honestly, it’s slutty behavior, and it’s not a good look on you, it never has been.”

Just as your last word leaves your mouth, you feel the icy stickiness of vodka splashing you across the neck and chest, the lime slice thudding against your stomach as the cold liquid drips down into your lap, followed by a hundred slivers of ice.

You throw your hands up into the air as you scoot your stool back, catching the attention of a few people seated nearby. “What the fuck, Cora?! Are you fucking crazy??” you scream, brushing off the vodka that dripped down your chin.

“Fuck you, Sam!” she yells as she grabs her bag and jumps from her seat, rushing down the steps back out onto the beach. You glance to Marcus, wordlessly telling him that you’ll pay your tab tomorrow.

You follow her down the steps out onto the beach that is nearly empty, now. You can feel your feet tripping over themselves as you chase her to the pier, the tide already coming up well above the beams. The wind is whipping furiously, now, and the storm you predicted earlier is most definitely on its way.

“Cora! Stop!” you shout, ordering her to slow down.

“NO!” she yells over the howl of the wind that was now blowing tiny specks of sand against your legs. “Leave me be, Sam!”

Finally she makes it to another set of stairs that lead up to the road, not far away from what used to be your home with her. “Cor! Please!” you beg. You don’t know why you’re chasing her, your chest still dripping with the vodka soda she decided to douse you with. Why? Why follow her at all? Fuck her, fuck this… but your legs carry you, yet.

She stomps up the stairs, finally turning and crossing her arms across her chest when she reaches the top. Her eyes were red, but no tears wet her cheeks. “What? What, Sam? What do you want me to say?” she barks.

Your body is like a magnet to hers, pulling you instantly into her bubble. You reach up and brush away the invisible tear that you know is bound to fall at any second, willing yourself to catch it before it decides to escape. “I want you to fucking admit it to me, Cora! Be fucking real with me for once! Tell me everything, not just the parts of the story that benefit you!”

She rips herself away from your hand, turning and walking through the parking lot. “I fucking can’t Sam! I won’t! I know I’ve screwed everything up, and it’s all my fault!”

You chase after her again. “Why, Cora?! Be a fucking adult and tell me! I deserve at least that much, don’t you think?” Your breath is heaving again as you practically beg her to just speak to you.

She continues running through the lot and down the street as the clouds continue to push across the dark sky, threatening rain. You can smell it in the air as a few flashes of lightning flash over the sea again.

She finally stops at her car, standing beside it as she furiously tries to dig her keys from the bottom of the bag. You finally catch up, maneuvering your body to stand between her and the door. She’s in full-on sobs, now, choking back the cry that you’ve seen her put herself through time and time again. “Let me go, Sam,” she begs through clipped chokes.

“No. You’re going to talk to me. I’m–I’m sorry I called you… that. I shouldn’t have said that, and I deserve to wear this fucking vodka,” you say reluctantly as you brush it off you again. “I’m not letting you into this car until you talk to me. Tell me the truth. Once and for all, Cora.” You could feel the sadness sticking in your throat, all the old emotion you had for her bubbling up again. Old love is a strange thing, the way it intertwines itself in your bones, strong and stoic until the person that shared it with you comes back and makes it fragile again. Like cracked glass, you begin to shatter for her.

“Tell me you cheated on me. Just say it. Tell me you love him more than you ever loved me, and I’ll let you go,” you say with defeat, hot tears filling your eyes. “I just need to hear it, please… I can’t do this anymore, Cor…”

Her hands come up to cover her eyes as she turns and paces, your final request hitting her as hard as it hit you. You can’t do this any more, you can’t chase her for months on end, only for her to race back into the arms of someone else. It’s time to end it, if it’s going to end at all. Still, even after all this, you’d do anything for her.

Finally she gets herself together again, standing tall and sturdy before you. You watch as her hands slowly make their way to wrap around your waist, her chest still heaving, too. Just the feeling of her skin on yours is enough to make every muscle in your body relax. Her hands gripping into your back, her cheek pressed to your still-soaked chest. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry…” she cries.

“Sorry for what, Cora? Please…”

Her arms tighten around you as her mouth finds your neck. “Please don’t make me say it… I can’t stay away from you…”

You slump with defeat, but the wet kisses she’s started to lay onto your throat begin to cloud your judgment. “Please say it, baby. Just be honest with me for fucking once…”

Her teeth bite into your ear lobe making you hiss, and she leans into you, pressing her core right against you. God damn her. It isn’t fair, all the times you’ve let her get the best of you, using you and manipulating your feelings. She knows all your weaknesses, and your most prominent one is her. Your eyes peep open through the tears, seeing the palms still blowing sideways in the wind. It’s going to pour at any second.

Her hand snakes its way between you as she takes your already hardening dick in her palm, not caring if anyone is even around to see. Fuck her and her ability to melt you into putty every single fucking time. “Cora…” you grit as she squeezes you in her hand. “Tell me you still want me…”

“I think it’s pretty fucking obvious, isn’t it baby?” she laughs through a sob. “I want you, I’ve always wanted you.”

You can’t stop yourself from grabbing her face forcefully in your hands, pressing her tear-soaked lips to yours in a fiery and wanting kiss. Her nails grip into your back, raking across it and back over your stomach as she continues to squeeze your still-covered cock. Your mind is racing with thoughts, but what’s fucking new? Here we go again…

Raindrops begin to patter on your head and on the hood of her car as loud thunder rumbles in the distance. You kiss her hard, just like you always do after some time apart. She’s delicious in every sense of the word, her skin still glowing from the sunscreen oil she applied to her shoulders earlier in the day. The sand still caked on her long blonde strands, the taste of the lime still sour on her tongue. Everything about her, delectable and addictive, and once again, you can feel yourself dancing with the devil.

“This is such a fucking grey area, Cora. I hate when you do this to me…” you mumble as you break away, the rain falling harder, now.

“Let me make you happy, Sammy, please. That’s all I ever want,” she pleads, kneading you in her hand.

You grip her shoulder, turning her to put her back against her car door, switching places completely. You push her back, pinning her against the door. You can feel the sexual tension rising with each passing second as you grit your jaw, wanting nothing more than to devour her right here where you stand. “What would make me happy is if you tell me the truth. But that’s not going to fucking happen, is it?” you ask, raking your eyes over her face.

“The truth is that I’m a fucking fool for you, Sam. And I always will be,” she admits, her teeth biting at your lip as the two of you pant into one another, the need growing heavier by the minute. You thrust your hips into her touch, your body begging you do something.

“I don’t think you’re the fool here, Cora.” The rain begins to fall in giant beads, bouncing off the metal car hood as the thunder rips through the sky. “Park across the street and come meet me up in the shower,” you order her as your hand grips her ass, pulling her even closer into you.

“Are you su–”

“Don’t make me think about it,” you say as the rain begins to soak through your shirt. “Just get in the car.”

◇

You know the hot water is going to sober you, and the last thing you need right now is a clear head. You strip the soaked shirt from your limbs before you even make it inside your house, flicking the kitchen light on as you search the cabinet for a glass. You pull the scotch down from the top of the refrigerator, pouring a few fingers as you take a long drink, letting the liquor get you back where you needed to be. This is all so fucked... You feel so fucking weak.

You reach into the freezer and grab the ice tray, popping a few cubes free and dropping them into your drink. You roll your neck on your shoulders as you take a deep breath, making your way upstairs to the bathroom.

You eye yourself in the mirror as you push your hair back from your shoulders, and your reflection meets you with a disapproving look. As the years go on, you notice yourself looking more and more like your father, his pointed features becoming more apparent as you mature toward the age he was when he passed. Your eyes are red, your skin is blotchy, and your expression is way past defeated, knowing that here you are again, about to drunkenly make the same mistake you’ve made time and time again.

You can still feel the scratches she left behind on your skin as you step into the steamy shower, the hot water stinging where her fingernails tore at your skin. The feeling of her hand on you over your shorts, the remnant taste of the lime on her tongue. You’re still so attached and devoted to her, when all she’s ever done is give you quite literally, nothing. You’re the fool.

After a few minutes of standing motionless in the water, you hear your bathroom door creak open, and her footsteps enter the small room.

“S’me,” she mutters, and you kick yourself into gear.

“Get in here,” you demand, your attitude on one hundred as you surprise even yourself. You hear her begin to undress.

The curtain pulls back, revealing her completely nude self as she steps in to join you in the shower. “Hey…” she says meekly as you fill your hand with shampoo.

“Hey.”

You step to the side, letting her get under the water. You watch as chill bumps cover her body as her temperature adjusts, her head falling back to soak her hair as she shudders a little. You watch her perfect tits bob a little as her arms reach back to wet her hair, her nipples hardening as the water rushes over them. Your eyes drift down to her chest, her stomach… her tan lines more apparent now in the dim lighting of the bathroom. Perfect. Always so perfect.

She finally wipes the water from her eyes as she steps out from the streams, and you motion for her to turn around as you put the shampoo from your hand into her hair, beginning to massage it softly into her scalp.

After a few seconds, she finally speaks. “Why’re you so good to me, Sammy? After everything…after me treating you the way that I do…?”

Her words take the breath from your lungs, making you second guess this whole thing. “I think you know why, baby.”

“But I don’t deserve your attention, much less for you to be washing my hair for me.”

You bite back what you want to say, instead channeling your dad and his wisdom. “Sometimes showing your love selflessly to someone who doesn’t even want it means more to them than telling them that you do. You might not remember all the times I told you how much I loved you, but you’ll probably remember me showing it.”

It’s silent for a beat as your fingertips rub into her scalp.

“Loved,” she murmurs.

“What?”

“You said loved. Do you not…”

Ah, fuck.

You swallow hard, unsure how to even answer that question. “I don’t know what you even want to call it anymore, Cora. It’s… a mess, you know?” You level with her. You feel her nod as you turn her to rinse her hair.

As you meet her face again, she avoids your gaze as her eyes jump to the ceiling, blinking away guilty tears. Maybe she’s finally beginning to understand…

“Of course I still feel something for you, I probably always will. We spent years together. Things like that don’t go away in the blink of an eye. But, you mistreated me, Cora. And now you won’t even admit to it. You don’t even want to be civil enough to give me the benefit of knowing the truth. And that tells me… maybe you never even loved me back in the first place.” Your words of admission make her bite both of her lips in, her chin beginning to shake as she fights back the tears again. Her eyes stay trained on the ceiling above you.

“I did, Sammy. I swear I did. I do…” she whispers.

You shake your head as the last of the bubbles fall from her strands. “No. See, no. You can’t love me anymore. You can’t love me and then sneak back into the sheets with someone else. It doesn’t work that way. Don’t you understand that?”

She wipes the water from her face again, her eyes red with disappointment in herself, but you hold steady. “What we had, it was good. It was perfect. I wanted it all with you, Cora. I wanted the flower pots on the porch, the planning dinner while we make breakfast, the surfing from the time the sun comes up until it goes down again. Sharing a home with you, sharing a closet, sharing my deepest fears and all my memories… you were it. It was going to be you from then on out. But you tarnished it. All my trust in you is gone, especially now since you still won’t even give me what I need. I need reciprocation. You don’t bring me happiness anymore. You bring me doubt, and suffering, and bad decisions… So no. You can’t love me. I…I can’t let you.”

She stays silent as your words sink in, the water now steaming up the air between you.

“...Yet here I am in your shower with you. In our old home. That you invited me back to, knowing and going along with the exact reason I came here in the first place…” she shakes her head. “You’re just as helpless as I am, Sammy…”

She steps closer, gently craning her neck to meet your lips again. What started as a peck, a barely-there tap that spoke more words than you needed it to, quickly turns into a rushed and fervent kiss, your tongues dancing and fighting against one another as her hands grip into your damp hair. She’s so completely overwhelming to you. You’re unable to even form thoughts as you feel her lips on yours, so velvety and sweet. Four hands, already gripping and pulling at each other again, her breasts pressed against your chest as they slide over you.

“Tell me, Sammy…” she pulls away. “Do you still crave me? Do you still think about me when you lay down at night?”

Her hand grasps at your hair, pulling it back as she starts in on your throat again. The feeling of her, so addictive and so blinding. Her mouth and tongue gliding against your skin as the hot shower continues to pour over you making you dizzy as that last shot of scotch begins to soak into your bloodstream, giving you just the right amount of confidence to get through this again.

You swallow and bite back a moan at the feeling of her mouth on you. “Of course I do,” you admit, as much as you don’t want to.

“Have you ever had someone fuck you the way I did? The way I do?” she goes on, her lips making their way down your shoulder.

You refuse to answer, knowing that all she’s doing is using her siren song to lure you back to right where she wants you. But the funny part about it all is that you’ve already succumbed to it.

Instead of speaking, you slip your hand between her folds, making her entire body quiver as your finger finds her clit within seconds. She steps her feet apart a little as you pull her wetness up, coating her all over. “God, Sam…” she purrs as her head falls back. You move your hand to let your thumb go to work, wasting no time in letting your fingers enter her completely. Everything happens fast, your sexual pull to her undeniable and unable to be ignored. She cries out, her sounds bouncing off the plexiglass walls of your small shower.

Her hand finds your dick again, stroking it right in time with the circles of your thumb against her. You grit your teeth, sending your middle two fingers even deeper inside of her, flicking your fingers against her most sensitive spot. “Oh my god…” she cries again, her hand gripping hard on your shoulder to hold herself up.

You know how her body works, and you know that she is liable to get off at any second, so you drop to your knees, knowing that you’d do anything in the world to taste her release on your tongue right now. You’re blinded by desire for her, her words from earlier falling completely to the wayside.

You pull her leg over your shoulder while she leans with her back against the wall, her hands ruffling hard into the roots of your hair again. “Baby, fuckkkk…” she wails as you let your tongue dip into her, pressing it as deeply as it will go. The water is falling directly onto your face, and you feel like you might be drowning, but you don’t need air right now. If you’re going to suffocate, you’re going to suffocate just like this.

Her hips jut forward onto your face, rolling slowly as she begins to corner your tongue right where she wants it. If she’s going to try to say she still loves you, you’re going to make her eat her words. You reach one hand behind her, gripping at her ass as you feel her body begin to shake. You knead your fingers into the muscle, pulling her further onto your mouth, flicking your tongue against her clit as you add just the right amount of suction. You pull your hand away, signaling with the two fingers that were just buried inside her to come on, let you have it.

“That what you want baby? Want me to come on your face?” she asks, panting through her words as she pulls your hair incredibly tight.

“Mhmm…” you reply, making sure to vibrate the word directly on her clit.

Her hands hold your head in place as you feel her stomach muscles tighten, and you do all that you can to hold her upright. Finally you feel her letting go, coating your face and tongue as she mutters obscenities into the thick air. Her hips tremble in your hold, but the taste of her is immaculate, the sight of her letting go for you forever being burned into your brain.

You hate it. You hate this.

With one final pull of your tongue across her, you stand back up, taking her tits in your hands as you delve your face onto her collarbone, sucking hard at the skin purposefully leaving behind a bright pink cherry hickey. “There. See if Cameron notices that tomorrow,” you jerk, knowing that it will piss her off.

“Fuck off, Sam. Are you fucking serious?” she bites as her words come through a little more heated than the blissful expression her face gives.

“Yeah, I’m fucking serious. Now, do you want me to fuck you in here, or on the bed?” you ask, pressing a hand to her stomach to push her against the wall again.

“I–I…”

“No, none of that. Tell me what you want,” you reply with a little bit of a slur, watching as her eyes glint with surprise.

“Fine,” she breathes. “Both.”

“Both? Fuck, baby. You’d think after how the night has gone you’d ask for the bare minimum, but. God, pulling more out of me than I even bargained for. Just like always, huh?”

You know you’re being a jackass, but you really don’t care. If you’re only fucking her for the sake of it, and she isn’t going to give you the truth you’ve been searching for, might as well do it up, right?

“Spoiled. Always so fucking spoiled,” you bite again.

“Sam…”

“Shh. Stop talking. Turn around. The only word I want to hear is my name leaving your mouth,” you demand.

She does what you ask as she turns around and faces the wall, pressing her cheek up against it as you pat between her thighs, having her step apart a bit as you take yourself in your hand, pumping a few times before lining up with her. You take a second to pull her hair to the side, sucking her skin into your mouth again as you finally push yourself into her. The angle isn’t the best, but you make it work, bending your knees a little to press into her as far as you can.

“Motherfuck, baby…” she coos as you thrust further inside, savoring the feeling of her wetness coating you once again.

“Hmm-mm. My name, baby,” you say as she begins to arch her back a little, leaning away from the wall to give you deeper access. Her right hand comes back to pull at her own asscheek, stretching the skin as she cuts her eyes at you.

“S-Sam…mmy…” she utters as you begin to furiously pound into her, the muscles of her ass like shockwaves across water.

“There it is, baby, that’s all I wanna hear…” you grunt as you gather up the hair that’s splayed down her back, picking it up into your hand and wrapping it around your fist.

You use it as leverage to arch her back further as you let your other hand slap across her ass, the sound of the smack startling her into a fit of needing moans. “Fuck, Cor… you feel so fucking good...just like always…” you say as your hips continue into her, messy and slick as the water continues to make everything a soaked mess.

You swear you could do this for the rest of forever, but even through the thickness of the air around you, and through the clouds clogging up your inebriated mind, something about sex with her suddenly feels different. Even in the heat of teetering on the edge of an orgasm, you feel like the earth has shifted, a giant crevice metaphorically forming in the ground between the two of you, separating you by what felt like miles.

Something is off. No, not off. Gone.

Completely just… gone. Just like that.

You look down at the gorgeous body of the only one who has ever made your heart beat fast, and suddenly you see her just as she is– a woman.

A woman who has lied to you, cheated on you, tested your patience and made you question your every move. Manipulated you, used you in every sense of the word. And though she told you tonight that she still loves you, could you even trust her enough for it to be the truth?

This isn’t what you want. This isn’t even close to the happiness you know you deserve. Scotty is right. He’s always been right.

But as your body and human instinct begin to defeat the thoughts rushing your mind, you shift gears, pulling her hair up to meet her ear with your mouth.

“You said both, right?”

You pull yourself out of her, hearing her cry out at the loss of contact. You reach behind you and turn the water off, reaching outside of the curtain to grab two towels. You toss one to her and dry yourself off a little with the other, quickly running it through your hair as you rip the curtain open. “Hurry up, go get on the bed.”

She gives you a side glance as she squeezes the water from her hair, stepping out and into the bedroom. You follow her, your bodies still dripping wet and red from the heat of the water. If you’re going to do this for what you’re deciding is going to be the last time, you’re going to do it right.

“I said on the bed,” you bite as you watch her hesitate. “This used to be your house, why are you being shy?”

“I… I don’t know, you’ve never really acted like this before, just… I picked out this comforter, and you still have it…”

You stand for a second as the flashes of lightning fill the room, the sound of the rain absolutely pounding on your metal roof. You shrug, unknowing of what else to really say. “I mean, why would I get another comforter?”

She shrugs again as she sits down on the bed, slowly inching herself backwards as you watch her hair drip onto the sage green material she once was in love with.

“Look, Cora, you came here to hook up, right? Are we gonna finish up, or what?” your tone surprises you, you don’t even really know who you are right now. And she’s right, you’ve never really acted like this before. But in all honesty, this is the very first time ever that you feel like getting yours, so she can leave. And never come back. You’re washing your hands of this bullshit. The rose-colored glasses are being thrown into the fire, and you don’t even care to stick around and watch them melt.

“Yeah, Sammy. Come here… show me what I’ve been missing,” she says with a pull of her pointer finger.

You damn near roll her eyes at her. What she’s been missing? Is she fucking serious?

You shake your head and scoff, kneeling down to crawl across the messy bed covers when an idea pops into your head.

Love, huh?

You can make love…

You lean down, pressing slow, sweet kisses to the insides of her thighs as you move from there to her still-dripping cunt again. You let your tongue ghost over it again, making her shiver at the contact that you’d so graciously blessed her with earlier. “You cold, babe? Want to get under the covers?”

She nods her head, and you pull the puffy green cover over the two of you, instantly warming the chilled air around you. “That better?” you ask, trying to throw on the charm.

You kiss all over her body, gently running your tongue over the places you know will make her shiver and squirm, paying special attention to take your time. Your hands rub into her as your tongue drifts, making your way up her body slowly as the thunder rolls in the background. You make your way up to kiss her, letting your lips dance passionately across hers as you feel her body beginning to want more from you. She cranes up, her hips jutting as you can tell she’s getting antsy. Her hands finally wrap around your waist, pulling you roughly into her.

“Want you, Sammy…please…” she begs as she breaks away from the kiss.

“Patience, baby… you want me to show you?” you ask, leaving the question open-ended on purpose, the sentiment of love suddenly feeling like poison in your mouth.

She nods hard, wrapping one hand around your neck, and the other around your dick, massaging her hand up and down the shaft as she tickles her fingertips around the head. It makes you shudder, and you feel yourself become impossibly hard in her hand.

You reach down and roll your fingers through her folds again, making sure she’s still where she needs to be. “So wet for me, baby… always so soaked. You think about me sometimes, huh? Think about me and get all excited…make yourself get like this…” you breathe into her ear, your voice just a whisper as you taunt her.

“Yes, baby. Always, all the time… miss you so bad…” she says, but you hear no ounce of honesty in her tone. None.

Finally, her hand guides you to her opening, and you press forward again, filling her slowly at this new angle as her head shoots backward into the pillow, her mouth gaping open as you enter her, inch by delicious inch. You grit your teeth as you watch her face in awe, her doe eyes finally coming down to meet yours as you hit the hilt.

“Baby, god, please…” she groans, pulling hard at your hips. Watching her already falling apart like this is exactly what you want. You begin to slowly fuck into her, rolling your hips deviously slow as you rock into her, paying special attention to take this slowly again.

You back up, pulling her knees up to her chest and holding them there as you roll your hips into her again, hitting her at another impossibly deep angle, low and slow. “Jesus Sam… you’re so fucking good, baby… please keep going…” her moans are pleading and her eyes flit open and closed; you can tell she’s absolutely enjoying every single second of this.

You’re enjoying it, too, but that crevice in the ground is only becoming wider, sending you further and further away from feeling any type of connection with her. Suddenly you’re on another planet completely.

You let her legs fall to the sides again as you go back to missionary, resting either elbow on the sides of her head, putting you face to face again. You take her in a kiss again, licking your tongue into her mouth as you let it quiet her whimpers.

“Like this baby? This how you like it?” you ask, rolling your hips with even more passionate force.

“Mhmm.. yeah… just like this… just me and you…” she pleads, taking her tits into her hands as her breath picks up.

You lean back again and cross one of her legs diagonally between you, hitting her from the side now. Her hands grip into the sheets as you hear the wetness between your skin smacking together, her breathing picking up significantly. “Oh my godddd, what the fuck…” she cries, her body absolutely falling apart for you. But still, you hold strong, not letting any emotion at all come through. And to your continued surprise, it's fairly easy.

“Roll to your belly,” you demand, and you pull out just long enough for her to do so. You enter her again, and she stays flattened against the mattress. You maneuver her legs so that they’re closed together, making her feel ten times tighter than she did before. You fall against her back, letting your body weight do most of the work as you continue quick thrusts, now.

After a few minutes, you watch as her hands grip into the comforter again, holding on for dear life as she whines, turning her head sideways to look at you. For the first time in your life with her, you see love in her eyes, but not the kind that you yearned for so heavily. Not the kind that was going to give you everlong happiness.

“Sammy… I’m close baby…” she says, and you feel her walls fluttering around you. You reach a hand under her, finding her clit again and rolling it under your middle finger, giving her double stimulation as you continue from the back. “Oh my god please, yes…” she cries, and within seconds, her body is silent and shaking as she hits her peak, her breath hitching in her throat as she does so.

You aren’t far behind, the sound of her getting off striking a chord deep within you to carnally follow after her. But you are careful.

You deliver a few especially forced and quick thrusts before pulling all the way out, letting yourself go across her back. You pump yourself with your hand as you make sure you finish all the way, still yet feeling nothing at all for the woman beneath you. Had you finally broken her spell?

You collapse beside her, lying on your back so as not to get the bed too messy. You’re panting and tired, fanning yourself with your hands as you feel the humidity from the storm rolling in through the open windows. After a few seconds of catching your breath, you sit up and go into the bathroom to get her a warm washcloth, returning within seconds to get her cleaned up.

“Thanks, Sammy,” she mutters, her tone very different than it was just a few minutes ago. She rolls over to face you, pulling the thick blankets over her body. You both lie there in silence for a few minutes as you contemplate what to do, now feeling a little clarity from the alcohol leaving your system.

“Why did you… ya know…” she asks shyly.

“What?”

“Why did you pull out?” she asks, taking you by surprise.

“Well, you’re not my girlfriend anymore, so. Think that’s a good reason.” You’re glad you’re able to keep up the careless demeanor that so graciously fell upon you earlier.

She’s stunned silent for a second. “I’m not anybody’s girlfriend, Sam.”

You laugh through your nose, the notion of her answering part of your request only just now coming from her. “Hah, good to know. Fucking two hours late.”

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry before you’ll believe me?” she asks, rolling up to lean on her elbows.

“I guess as many times as you want to say it, I don’t know,” you quip, not really feeling like entertaining this same goddamned conversation for the thousandth time.

“Well,” she says lowly, “I am. And I’ll keep saying it. For as long as it takes.” You bite your tongue before looking into her eyes, her bright green irises staring back at you with absolutely zero emotion. She’s still not telling the truth. She’ll never fucking tell you the truth.

“Yeah, here’s the thing, Cora.” You roll over to lean up on your elbows, too. “You can say you’re sorry a million times, but it doesn’t mean shit when you don’t have the intention of changing your behavior. I’ve begged you to be real with me, and I’ve never gotten it. I haven’t gotten your true self in ages, Cor. I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’ve given you a hundred chances. And the fact that you want to move back here is a little unsettling for me, to be honest. Scotty and I are about to inherit the business, and I swear to god, I can’t have a distraction like you around if I’m going to run this business the way it deserves. I know you’re not being honest with me. I know you, and I feel like I know you even less now. I deserve happiness. I deserve to get what I give, and I know you’re not the person to give it to me. I’m not perfect by any means, but at least I’m willing to listen, and change my ways if I need to. I’m frankly tired of the back and forth, Cor. I’m exhausted. Showing you how much I care for you and then you rushing back to Cameron, it’s not what I want. It’s never gonna be what I want.”

“Why do you always have to bring up Cameron, Sam?!”

You smile, her actions proving exactly what you intended them to.

“Because you becoming defensive when I mentioned him just now instead of becoming defensive of literally all the other shit I just said… really put it into perspective. That’s all I needed to hear.”

“What the fuck do you mean?!” she cries, her voice strangled.

“I mean, you’re practically numb to all the other shit I said until I bring him up. Only then do you try to defend yourself. Only then do you even hint at being truthful with me. I’m fuckin’ done, Cora.”

You begin to stand from the bed, grabbing a t-shirt from the closet and throwing it her way before pulling on a pair of shorts.

“That’s not what I mean, Sam! You know this! Where are you going, are you leaving?” she says in succession.

You run your fingers through your hair, turning back to look at the one who was once the love of your life still naked in your bed, begging you to come back, but all you can feel is the couch downstairs calling your name.

“You can sleep here, I work early tomorrow. Just make sure you lock the door behind you when you leave,” you say as you open your bedroom door, listening as she calls your name from behind you over and over until the sound of the rain drowns her out.

It fucking hurts, it really does. But the rush of relief you get as you make your way down the steps and into your living room is almost enough to knock you over. Finally. Finally… your pull to her no longer feels like a rope wrapped tightly around your hands. Having sex with her just now brought you a disconnect that you’ve never experienced before. No longer did it feel like she was woven into the deepest depths of your soul, but instead she was just a section of your life that you experienced. And now, you’re ready to move past it.

Did that really just fucking happen? Did you finally do it?

You curl up on your cozy couch as you listen to the heavy rain now turn into a drizzle, the orange glow from your salt lamp in the corner making you feel more at home in your house than you ever have. You know you’re about to get the best sleep you’ve ever gotten, dreaming about something other than her haunting your mind. You feel like the whole world is now at your fingertips, ready to be taken advantage of, and lived.

◇

As your bare feet struggle to stand on the wooden bartop, you balance yourself in the center, leaning back to check with Scotty and Marcus.

��How’s that? Is it dead-center?” you ask as you bite a nail between your teeth, a hammer in one hand while you hold on to the ceiling with the other.

“Little to the left! There…there! Perfect!” Marcus yells out as you position the nail in the saltwater-worn wood of the bar. You pound the nail in, and grip the string that’s fastened securely on the back of the old photo frame. You hang it over the nail, making sure the picture is hanging balanced and straight.

You hop backwards down off of the bar, standing back with the other two as you place your hands on your hips. “Damn, that does look good, doesn’t it?” you agree as you look at the photo of you and your dad hanging perfectly over the bar, you about 9 or 10, his hand on your shoulder as you pose with your very first surf board.

“He would have loved it, my man,” Scotty says with a pat to your back. “I never even met him, but I know he would have.”

You nod. “Yeah, thanks for letting me put that up, Marcus. I’ll see it more here than I will at home…” you tease as you join Scotty in your respective bar stools.

“That’s an understatement,” Marcus agrees with a laugh. “You two are here more than I am.”

Cora never came back downstairs that night, nor did you go up to tell her goodbye when you left for work that next morning. She didn’t leave any notes, send you any texts… and when the day came for you and Scotty to sign the paperwork setting you up for the rest of your lives, she was the absolute last person on your mind.

She never came back into town, either. If you had to guess, she probably moved the complete opposite way, much to your delight.

Now, you don’t think of her when you’re out on the water, you don’t think of her when you smell her favorite sunscreen. She’s still a memory, of course, and if she called you today saying she needed you to fix her bike or sell her a new board, you would. But that would be the end of it.

You’ve taught yourself what it means to be loved by yourself, and yourself alone… knowing that at the end of the day, you’re the one that has to comfort yourself to sleep, and no one is going to love you more than you. It’s fucking corny, you know, thinking of life in that way. But it makes sense, and fuck, if it isn’t liberating.

Life’s peaceful air feels different now. Even surfing feels more fulfilling than it ever has. You’re headstrong, you’re confident. You feel like you’ve gained more knowledge and wisdom from owning this business than you ever thought you would, all in part to the memory of your dad, and what would have made him proud.

Even Scotty is proud of you, your best friend on earth. The two of you together are a force, bringing in more money to the company than it had ever seen before. You’d never tell anyone that, though. And you’ll never flaunt it.

You’ll just sit at Donovan’s every night in your bar stool beside the ice machine, laughing with Scotty as you scream Sweet Caroline, and drink anything but scotch.

◇ ◇ ◇

xoxoxo J

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