Promise Me This; Never Let Go

Matt

We were spending the day in Central Park. The fact that she ditched her stupid husband for me, well that does say something; I feel loved.

We walked around with my arm protectively over her shoulder. Some other guys gave her looks of interest, but my angry expression made them look the other way. They had better not look at her. She isn't a piece of meat on display.

Yeah, I realized I would never stop being so protective of her. I've always been this way, but it's gotten worse as the years passed. Now, I felt the need to shield her from all negative things in this world. If she got a paper cut from a book, I would toss it across the room until it hit something solid and hit the floor. It was that serious.

But now that I think about it, if I'm safeguarding her from any potential harm, I'm included in the list of all negative things in this world. It's sad how I can't save her from me and I can't save me from myself.

"I'm in this eight step rehab program now," I mentioned as I helped her climb up a boulder. Not many people were in this area and it provided a nice amount of shade.

She took her shades off and pushed them so they created a hair band for her bangs. "You're in rehab?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yeah I am. I decided I have to be if I ever want to recover."

"That's great!"

I would die for that simple smile of hers. It was such a subconscious gesture, yet it brought up all the positive emotions I hadn't felt in so long.

Besides the positive emotions, I felt my heart figuratively beat again. It would always pound against my chest in a dull drumbeat. Now that I have my best friend back, it would always beat as fast as I could run. If anyone's seen the Afterlife video, then he or she knows I can run.

The second Franchesa laid her head down in my lap; I blushed. I don't think I've blushed in years. I groaned and closed my eyes. "Why would you do that?”

Those heart-stopper green eyes looked at me in wonder. "Why do I always do what?"

I shouldn't have opened my mouth. What's more embarrassing is that I'm going to have to tell her why I'm blushing. I don't like feeling this vulnerable. But that look in her eyes. She was innocently pleading with me. How could I resist that gorgeous face?

"I'm warning you, this will sound soft!" I started, hoping she would drop the subject. When her gaze on me intensified, I knew I was fucked. "Whenever you touch me, I blush."

Maybe it was what I said, but after I confessed this secret, all I could hear were the chirping of birds and the general family noises from people in the park section. I should have seen this wouldn't go over well.

"You know, a few nights ago, I had a dream about you. We were at the beach in Huntington and we were just hanging out. Then there were these photographers around. I don't know; you were going to kiss me but then I woke up."

"I think I'm dreaming, pinch me quick!" I demanded, putting my arm outward. Closing my eyes, I waited for that little sting of pain, but it never happened. I dared to open one eye only to meet Franchesa face to face. Her tanned legs were crossed and she was staring at me. "What?"

"What did you dream about?" she questioned.

"How do you know I had a dream?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I just do," she shrugged. "So, tell me, what did you dream about?"

"How about I tell you on our way back to your hotel?" I negotiated. She shrugged and accepted my offer.

I wasn't planning to tell her my dream. It isn't that it's extremely embarrassing, I just don't want to tell her. But as we were sitting in the taxicab, I wondered if I should say it. What's the worst that could happen? She could flip out, but that would be the worst of it. It isn't like she would tell me to go away. We both know she wants to keep this friendship no matter what happens.

I guess it was me that was so hesitant. After so many years, I still have trouble explaining my feelings and opening up to her, even though she is my best friend and I tell her almost everything. I have to learn to get over my fears. She isn't out to hurt me; she's one of the main people that wouldn't do that.

Franchesa was so tired; she was leaning on me for support when we finally reached her hotel. New York traffic is seriously horrible. I even had to take her room key from her to slide it through the locking mechanism so we could enter her place.

"Matt, don't go," I heard her whisper after I laid her down in her bed and began walking to the door.

My better judgment wasn't working with me today. I knew it was a bad idea for me to hang around in case Rafael came back to whatever he was doing with his stupid tennis. I knew this very well, but how could I reject someone like Franchesa?

Tentatively, I climbed into bed with her, lying down on top of the fluffy covers. I could've sworn I heard her sigh almost in relief. Did she expect me to leave? I could never. I hoped she knew that.

Franchesa yawned and turned to me with tired eyes. "Can you play with my hair?"

"Sure," I replied, moving closer so she rested her head on my left arm so I could lazily wrap my arm around her shoulder.

We laid there in silence while I was playing with her hair and she was breathing evenly. It was so clear to me that she wants me, yet nothing is happening. What am I supposed to think? This is too much to handle all at once.

"My dream," I whispered in a raspy tone, "was the same as yours."

There wasn't an answer coming from her. Of course, she was asleep. I sighed and kissed her forehead before releasing my hold of her shoulder. I did my best to slip out of bed without much movement and noise. I succeeded since she wasn't even close to stirring once I reached the door. Swallowing my want to kidnap her while she was asleep, I closed the door silently and headed for the elevator.