Page 98 of Manhattan Secret

“Will my wife and kids be standing next to me?” He asks, toneless.

Shots fired. Girl down.

I have to keep reminding myself we’re in two different places in our lives.

If you love something, set it free.

“This isn’t right, Laney…” he’s so quiet, I can barely hear him.

But it’s the last words we speak that night.

Letting him go to his new life is proving harder than I thought.

It’s screaming inside me to say we’ll do long-distance, we can travel every semester, spend a few days together and then wait until the next one and the next. But my chicken heart won’t let me.

Won’t let me chance on a life I have no control over.

I don’t want to become an obligation to him.

While I fully trust Lachlan, there are new experiences in a new town, a new school. Metaphorically taking me with him will only hold him back.

Am I being magnanimous?

Am I being a chicken shit?

I can’t say, because I’m breaking inside. And it’s all my own fault.

This man with his arms folded around me and his warm skin touching me all over, has become the pinnacle of my everything and it’s tearing me up to let him go.

There’s no more to say.

We don’t kiss, we don’t make love. Wrapped in each other, not an inch between us, we might have fallen asleep in moments or in hours. All I know is, when we wake the next morning, we’re in those same positions, locked tight, reluctant to part.

I try so hard to smile when I pour coffee. Try to keep that smile going when the time grows closer for him to get home in time for his parents to take him to the airport. All his things, car included, are being transported to Boston tomorrow.

His plans are to get settled into his dorm room and do a few meet and greets with his professors.

I hated the first week of college, but that kind of social interaction is made for someone as outgoing and arrogantly confident as Lachlan.

“Are you seriously going to let me walk out that door and never see me again?” He asks, causing my heart to stutter and restart, heavier.

Our eyes lock across the kitchen.

“I explained, Lachie. You don’t need me holding you back, stopping you from…”

“From what? Banging anything that moves? You think so little of me and my feelings for you? The night I met you, I hadn’t slept with a girl in months. I don’t need sex, I need you.”

“God, no. I know if there happened to be someone you found yourself interested in, that you’d tell me.”

He doesn’t look impressed.

I don’t have the right words; none sound right, and I’m just as frustrated with myself as he is.

“Gee, thanks for that, at least.”

“Maybe after college…”

“No.” he interrupts tightly. A muscle in his jaw is so overworked I see it clear across the room jerking in his cheek. “This isn’t a fucking rom-com, Laney. We don’t make a cute date to meet up in the future. If you’re done with me now, then you’re done with me for good.”

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