You & I Collide

Rachel

Finally, Paul’s voice shattered the silence. “If that…happens, then…there’s honestly nothing I can do about it, Rachel, and I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry. So sorry that…I could kill myself to escape the hurt I feel…that one day, I might have no choice but to leave you.” His eyes filled with tears, and so did mine. This was a hard conversation to have, and it stung, but we had to have it. “But of course I wouldn’t do that, because that would hurt you, too.” He took a deep breath again, deliberating on whether or not to say something. He decided to go with it. “Maybe…” hesitation got the best of him again.

“Maybe what?” I prodded, nervous and anxious. My voice was quiet.

“Maybe I should just go, just end this now. That way, if I do end up imprinting, I won’t have to hurt you. And that way, if I do try to kill myself so as not to hurt you, I won’t have to hurt you. I’ve realized this before, but never thought about it too much, and now…maybe that’s the best thing to do for us.”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Paul…my Paul was going to leave me, just after I had got him back? He was going to end this…and maybe even die? But he was going to end things before he died or before he imprinted so that neither thing would matter to me when it happened? How could something like that not matter to me, even if he did leave me? I loved him too much to handle that. Even finding a weak reflection of the immense love I felt for Paul in Emmett, I had never stopped loving Paul. My subconscious mind had delivered that message to me only moments ago. Therefore, everything would matter.

“No, Paul! No! Please…don’t do this,” I sobbed, the tears flowing, now.

He bit down on his lip as his tears spilled over. They glistened on his cheeks like rain. “Rachel…” he whispered, before we were holding each other close and embracing as if it was our last moment together. Pain ripped through me and burned as we cried and held each other. I couldn’t see the world anymore—my tears blurred my vision. He couldn’t leave me, not like this.

“Leaving me,” I choked out through the tears, “will…hurt me…too.”

“I can’t be with you without hurting you, Rachel,” Paul sobbed in a rough growl. “I don’t know how to be with you without hurting you. And…I hate it! I love you and I want to be with you, but I can’t do that without hurting you. I’ve known that for a while, but it kills to think about. And, now that I am…now that I’m telling you about it…” he couldn’t finish his sentence.

I wasn’t sure how long we stood there, hanging on to what we couldn’t lose. The agony was torturous and traumatizing, and the tears just kept coming. Occasionally, we would pull away from our embrace a little to look into each others eyes, but the silence of tears did not last for long. We just kept drowning in our sadness, sadness that had taken over that moment of happiness when I had realized that Paul would take me back after I left him, that he still loved me. And now that was only a distant memory as we cried and held each other close, never wanting to let go, in fear that letting go might have to come later, whether either of us wanted to or not.