To Hell With Your New Shit

”I love you, John O’Callaghan.”

Her words ran through my thoughts like music. I bent my head down and leaned my forehead against hers, smiling to myself as I felt her nervous, shaky breaths tickle everything from my nose to my neck.

“Lindsay,” I breathed slowly, my heart feeling like it would leap right out of my chest. She nodded in response, just a simple acknowledgement that I had said her name. The dry clothes that I had been clutching in my hands dropped to the floor beneath us and I moved my hands to rest on her shoulders.

I felt like a teenager on his first date. I didn’t know what to do with my hands or what to say. I could feel my palms turning clammy and my nerves stood on end. But then I blinked, took a deep breath, and heard her voice echo through my head again, and I realized that the girl I had been madly in love with for practically my entire life was standing in front of me, telling me she felt the same way.

“I love you, Lindsay Thompson,” I whispered, looking intently into her wide, blue eyes. She let out a tiny gasp before I brought my lips to hers, kissing her like I wish I had been able to every day for the past three years.

She kissed me back in the same exact manner, moving her small, trembling hands to the back of my neck as I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer. I smiled against her lips as her hands tangled themselves in my hair. Sheer heat bubbled on my skin and every thought, save for the ones about the girl standing in front of me, on her toes, lips pressed against mine, dissolved from my mind.

After a few moments, she shifted backwards, peering up at me. I looked at her quizzically and pushed damp strands of her hair away from the edges of her face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, leaning closer to look at her. A glint of sadness flashed through her eyes and my stomach dropped, panicking. “Lindsay?”

She frowned, ever so slightly, at me, and wrapper her hands carefully around my wrists, pulling our hands together in the small space between us.

“I can’t,” she started, choking over her words. “Not again.”

“Wh – what do you mean?” I asked, eyes wide and frightened. She couldn’t ruin everything just as soon as we had fixed it. She just couldn’t.

“Tomorrow,” she stated quietly, looking down at our now interlaced hands. I wanted so badly just to stand there, smiling at our hands and how perfectly they fit together, reveling in how warm she made me feel. “I have to go back to New York tomorrow.”

I felt as if I was crumbling to the floor in a heap of distraught pieces. My heart sank, my stomach twisted, and my mind reeled. All I could think to do was wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest, feeling her breath against my neck.

“We can work this out, though,” I began hopefully. “I mean, we can figure it all out, right?”

She looked up at me, a sad smile placed delicately on her perfect lips.

“Of course,” she told me, clasping her hands behind my neck. “I just… I just wanted you to know. I don’t want to leave you again, not like I did last time. And I promise I’ll come back more often, and you can visit me and it’ll – “

I raised my index finger to her lips to quiet her and I smiled at her.

“We’ll be fine,” I told her confidently, pressing my lips to her forehead, then between her eyebrows, the bridge, then the tip, of her nose. A weak smile spread across her own lips as she looked up at me.

“I meant it, John,” she spoke clearly, but breathily. “I love you.”

Her words shot once more through my mind like magic. My hands rested on either side of her face, my thumbs by her nose and the tips of my fingers just barely poised by her hair. My lips touched her nose again as I pushed a few more loose strands of hair behind her ears.

“I’ve always loved you,” I told her honestly before my lips caught hers in a kiss that made my heart pound like a freight train. Lindsay’s hands shook, but slid over my shoulders and behind my neck, into my messy hair. I smiled and pulled her closer before her lips moved to my jaw, my chin, and my throat, as if she was trying to kiss away the pain of the past three years.
“I’m so sorry, John,” she whispered, pulling away to look at me. “I don’t think I could leave you again if I tried.”

“Perfect,” I whispered back, kissing her collarbone where the straps of her dress left her skin exposed. She giggled when my breath tickled her shoulder and she brought my lips back to hers, letting her hands roam to my chest and fiddle with one of the buttons on my shirt.

As soon as she had the first button undone, I simply stopped thinking and picked her up to carry her down the hallway to my bedroom, shedding articles of clothing all the way.

Before I really woke up, I remembered seeing her face and hearing her voice. I was so exhausted that it mostly felt like a dream, but the image of her in my head was as real as could be.

“Hey,” she whispered softly, her lips brushing against my ear. I could feel her hand resting gently on my shoulder, the one that wasn’t crushed into the mattress under the weight of my body. I mumbled something in response that even I knew wasn’t coherent, before slowly opening my eyes.

She was sitting next to me, on the edge of my bed, biting her lower lip while she smiled at me.
“Come here,” I whispered, tugging gently on her hand, wanting nothing more than to pull her back into my bed and spend the day there with her. She shook her head at me and her smile took on an air of sadness as she rubbed her thumb gently against mine.

“I can’t,” she reminded me. “Plane.”

“Stay,” I pleaded with her, though I knew I wouldn’t get very far with my hoarse, groggy voice and astronomical lack of energy. “Please?”

“Just go back to sleep; it’s fine,” she whispered after a silent few moments, struggling to fight the tears that I could now see in her eyes, before leaning down to kiss me.

“No,” I refused, although I could easily feel the exhaustion clouding over me. It was still dim in my room and I realized it couldn’t have been later than five in the morning.

“I love you,” she told me, her face still inches from mine, emblazoned with its sad smile. I smiled lazily back at her, and started to let the sleepy haze cloud over me. It was just a dream, after all… Right?

Hours later, with the sun streaming brightly through my open windows, I groaned and rolled over, shoving my face into my pillow. I didn’t bother reaching out for Lindsay or to call her name.

I could already feel it. I was alone.

Everything inside was silent, although outside, the nearby sound of a garbage truck interrupted my thoughts. I sat up, running a hand through my hair, and swung my legs over the edge of my bed.

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself, before leaning over to grab my boxers and standing up to pull them on.

As I passed one of the open windows, I smiled at the thought of knowing Lindsay must have opened them, because my room generally resembled a cave, especially in the morning.

“How could you let her leave again, you dumb shit?” I thought to myself silently, although I let out a groan as I dwelled on my mistake. This time I had no one to blame but myself.

I padded into the hallway, glaring angrily at the articles of clothing – the reminders of everything that had disappeared just as soon as I had it back – strewn haphazardly across the floor. I stopped suddenly though, and turned around to stare at the yellow sundress that still lay on the floor of my hallway, before picking up my pace and striding towards the kitchen with my heart pounding frantically. As soon as I stood in the doorway, my heart leaped into my throat and I froze.

She stood at the counter with her back to me, barefoot and dressed only in the black plaid shirt I had been wearing the night before. Her brown hair tumbled messily down her back and I watched, wide-eyed, as she fumbled around with the coffee maker.

She seemed to notice my silent presence and turned around, offering me a smile.

“I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your shirt,” she stated simply, taking a few steps across the cold, tiled floor towards me. I still couldn’t bring myself to form words and speak. “My dress smelled bad from being soaked in the rain and – “

“You’re still here,” I finally spoke, somehow finding my voice and not caring nearly as much about the fact that she had borrowed my shirt as the fact that she was still here, standing in my kitchen, making coffee, with my coffee maker. Here. In my apartment. Right in front of me. In nothing but my shirt.

She only responded with a smile before stepping forward to close the gap between us and wrap her arms around my bare torso.

“You asked me to stay,” she said quietly against my chest.

“But you – “ I began to sputter, pulling back and looking down at her. “New York!” I could barely form whole words, let alone complete sentences. Lindsay simply laughed at me and gave me a look that coaxed me to continue.

“You’re supposed to be on your way to New York,” I pointed out, my breathing becoming pronounced as I tried to keep my voice steady.

“I know,” she responded, still smiling at me.

“You’re supposed to be on a plane!” I kept on.

“I know,” she repeated.

“You missed your flight?” I finally asked, staring down at her, dumbfounded and with the goofiest grin I ever imagined possible plastered across my face.

“You asked me to stay,” she said once more with a small shrug.

“But what about your job?” I asked, feeling like my heart might actually jump straight through my chest. “I mean you can’t just – “

“John,” she interrupted, her tone turning serious although she still smiled softly at me. “My job has been waiting for me for a week. You’ve been waiting for three years.”

I pulled her back towards me and she laughed as I picked her up and spun her around.

“God, I love you,” I whispered, burying my face against her neck as I let her land back on the kitchen floor.

“I love you, too,” she told me, lacing our fingers together and balancing on the tips of her toes to peer up at me with her bright, blue eyes. “I’ll always love you.”