I wanted to shout at him that he’s a damn stalker, a loser who needs to get a life, or hurl the most derogatory insult I could think of at him. But that’s the catch; I couldn’t bring myself to insult him in any way. I laugh and step a bit closer to him. His confession seems to baffle him, as he gives me a wary look.
“What are you doing here?” I ask again.
Donovan groans and runs his hands over his face, then speaks through them, clearly frustrated. “I like to stroll by the houses of girls from our class. It’s a hobby. Don’t judge.”
I take another step closer. “Do you take this nighttime stroll every night?”
“No,” he responds quickly. “I mean, sometimes I drive.”
“Ah.”
Reacting with all these mixed feelings would reveal that I wasn’t bothered by his desire to be close to me. It could mess up the new boundaries we had, based on our current relationship. Did we even set boundaries? Well, I made it clear I didn’t want him near me ever again, yet here we are, trying not to throw ourselves at each other, once more.
“I swear I’ve never done this before; I’m not a stalker. God, I sound like one…” There’s weariness in his voice; he looks defeated, unaccustomed to explaining himself. “Sooner or later, I’ll stop doing this, Celina. You’ll stop seeing me, I promise.” He starts to back away slowly, and suddenly the fear of him turning and running from me takes over every ounce of my self-control. He notices my unease at his movement and halts. “Not because it’ll hurt any less not having you in my life, but because it would pain me more to let you live with the tormenting memory of everything I put you through.”
Even if he vanished, the memory of him would be impossible to erase. He’s etched in my mind and, even worse, in my heart. “Not all memories are bad.”
I still don’t quite know what I’m trying to achieve by saying this, but I can’t bear to see his glazed eyes and trembling hands. What he did to me was wrong, deeply reprehensible, but he isn’t a monster.
The idea of falling in love with a monster is inconceivable to me.
Donovan gifts me a bitter smile, saying, “No, definitely not.” A few seconds of silence envelop us until he nods down the street behind me. “I think I should keep going; it’s getting late.”
While logically, that might mean he really should continue his walk because the night deepens, cloaking us in silence and darkness, I know he means more. He’s suggesting he’ll move forward because it’s too late for us. I can infer it from the tightening of every feature on his face as he strides past me, walking briskly, as if something might chase him.
I feel he’s still not answering my question, and I’m not about to chase him in my pajamas for nothing. “I asked you what you’re doing here!”
He halts abruptly but doesn’t turn to face me. Instead, he keeps his gaze fixated on the street’s end. “I already told you.”
“Fine, if you won’t come to me, I’ll come to you. He’s not in a position to do this without looking at me.”
“No, you haven’t said anything. What are you doing here? What do you want to change? What can you offer me? What’s the damned reason you won’t let me move on? What drives you?” The questions pierce through both of us. I know I want him in my life, but I don’t know what he’s willing to do to keep me in his. “And I need a straightforward answer, today. I’m looking for something to cling to, because everything you’ve given me so far has been false, and when it wasn’t, it was so fleeting that I couldn’t hold onto it tightly enough to keep it with me, Donovan.”
I felt like I had thrown out everything I could say to him without breaking down in the process. I watched as his back tensed up, his breathing stilled, and his hands clenched at his sides. In a swift motion, he turned, seizing me in a powerful embrace, wrapping himself around me.
I tried to resist for a few moments, but then I leaned into him, releasing a deep sigh I had been holding in for so long, far away from his touch, his presence, his love. I felt Donovan inhale the scent of my hair deeply, then his mouth moved close to my ear, his breath warm against it.
“I’ve been trying to sleep since yesterday and can’t find rest. Every time I close my eyes, the first thing I see is your eyes, Celina. I see the whole world in them. It’s crushing to see what I lost and to surrender to that idea.”
“You don’t have to surrender; just answer my question.”
“I shouldn’t. I’m not good for you. I can protect you from anything and everything, except from myself,” his voice cracked, and he clutched me tighter.
I couldn’t muster the skill to swallow or hold back the rush of words about to spill from my mouth – not because of what it might reveal about our relationship, but because I was being utterly irrational. “As long as you love me, I can live with that.”
“I do, with every piece of me, Celina.”
I breathed in the scent of his shirt, holding onto this moment, knowing full well it might be fleeting. “So what now?”
My heartache grew with each silent second that he didn’t respond. I could feel tears pooling in my eyes and a feverish warmth spread across my skin, as though my body was battling an infection.
“It’s not fair for me to ask, but if you can, just wait a little longer…”
My chest tightened and I began to pull away, but he held me close. “Don’t do this to me.”
“It’s for the best. Right now, I can’t be entirely truthful with you, and I couldn’t bear to hurt you again…”
Without hesitation, I pushed him away and ran back towards the house. Hearing his justification for not being able to love me the way I needed was more than I could bear.
“Darling, please don’t go!” His voice cracked with desperation.
“You keep letting me go, Donovan, time and time again!” I yelled back, before slamming the front door shut and feeling utterly small amidst the silence of the living room.
Cold. Diminished. Shattered.
And still in love.
What else could make me feel this wretched?
Why do I keep feeling this pull back into Donovan’s arms, regardless of everything?