Hard to Hold On Page 4

  After we catch our breath, I place her on the shower floor and she smiles up at me beneath her eyelashes. I smile back at her but it’s not complete. Although the sex was amazing I still feel like something is missing. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I just be happy right now? She’s gotten my mind rid of the thoughts for a few minutes but now I feel worse than before.

  Taking notice of my worry, she wraps her arms around my neck. She kisses me twice before placing her head against my chest and listening to my rapid heartbeat. I wonder why she isn’t saying anything. Maybe she’s thinking like I am. Maybe she doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

  I don’t want to destroy her mood. I want her happy . . . even if I’m not completely happy with my life or myself. I honestly don’t know if I ever will be.

  After we’ve showered and cleaned ourselves while storming up some minor small talk and flirting, I finally figure out what has to be done.

  Chapter Seven

  Natalie

  During the past three days, Nolan has been busy with arranging the funeral and sending out invitations. Mills comes around us occasionally but he’s topsy-turvy and it makes me nervous to be around him. There are times when he’s cool and will speak casually and then there are times where it seems as if he wants to flip a table over. After Nolan told me Mills might have a minor bipolar disorder that he doesn’t want to get checked out for, I began to feel sorry for him. Why hadn’t he told me this before?

  Nolan hides so much that it kills me. I asked about his father last night but he brushed it off and told me it was to remain in the past. Now I’m beginning to think maybe he was right about our relationship in some ways. Ever since the argument, I’ve been thinking about us way too much. We hardly communicate and from what my mom and dad always tell me, communication is key. I know it’s only been a few months but I really want him to open up to me. I tell him more about me and my problems than he tells me.

  I pause on those thoughts, my mind snapping back into reality as we pull into the parking lot of a floral shop. Nolan and I decided that a few white and red roses for the funeral would be best. He mentioned how his mother smelled like roses a lot so I linked two and two together and decided it was best to gather some fresh ones.

  As soon as we step into the shop, an elderly woman is standing behind the counter bundling a cluster of assorted flowers with a rubber band. “Well, hello!” she chimes, placing the flowers down on the counter carefully.

  “Hi,” I smile. I look up at Nolan who has a tight, forced smile on his lips. For the past three days he’s been acting really off. I thought sex would relieve some of his stress but he still seems thrown. Our shower-sex was the last time we’d done it but right after, I was confused by his sullen mood. He was still forcing smiles and the conversations we were having afterwards were rather pointless.

  “What can I help you with?” the woman asks, still smiling broadly.

  “There’s a funeral,” I say when Nolan doesn’t answer. “We’re looking for the freshest red and white roses you might have.”

  She nods, pulling her glasses from the bridge of her nose to wipe them off with the hem of her grey shirt. “Well if you’re looking for extremely fresh I’d come by tomorrow morning. I have a truck that will be bringing a load of fresher roses in for me. The ones I have here are somewhat worthy but I don’t think they will last you until tomorrow.”

  I nod as I reach for Nolan’s hand. His fingers don’t bother to wrap around mine. He doesn’t seem to notice, but as he pulls away to look at the yellow tulips to our right, a part of me rips in half. The gesture reminds me of my ex. Right before I found out what Bryson had done behind my back, he pulled the same exact gesture. I’m sure Nolan doesn’t mean it that way but I can’t help but panic now.

  “In the morning is fine,” Nolan mumbles, digging into his back pocket to pull his wallet out. “We can stop by and pick them up before we get to the funeral. Do I pay over here?” He points at the counter and the woman nods as she scurries behind it. She asks him how many he would like and after he pays, we are out of the shop and back at the car again.

  I can’t believe how rude he’s being towards me. I can’t believe he’s brushing me off like I won’t notice. I know all of the signs that lead to a break up and I refuse to sit around and act like I don’t know what’s going on. I won’t let him become a Bryson Daniels so as soon as we’re in the car I turn in my seat to look at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask.

  He pauses on starting the car, giving me a brief glance. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Nolan. You think I don’t notice what’s going on with you? You’ve been brushing me off.” He looks at me again, his eyes telling me to state how he’s been brushing me off. That knocks against my frustration so I tell him. “You sleep on the sofa instead of in the bedroom with me. You try to blame it on getting some fresh air and “accidentally” falling sleep on the couch but . . .” I nearly choke as I actually face the facts. “Just tell me now, Nolan, what I’m doing wrong. I swear I’ll fix it. We can fix anything you just have to work with me. You have to open up to me. You haven’t said a word about how you feel about your mother’s death since I’ve been here. I’ve let you in before. It’s your turn now.”

  “Natalie, I don’t want to talk about it. It doesn’t feel right to talk about yet. I’m not ready for the funeral—I’m not ready for any of it.”

  His grip tightens around the wheel, causing his knuckles to turn pale. “I want to help you, Nolan. You’ve always complained about me not letting you in but you’re being a complete hypocrite! I want you to tell me how you feel.”

  “I don’t feel shit, Natalie! Damn it!” The tone of his voice catches me off guard as he bangs the palms of his hands against the wheel. I swallow the lump in my throat as his grey eyes glare holes through mine, the anger blazing. “You want to help me, then give me my space, Natalie. Give me time to actually cope with my loss. It’s only been a week and I feel like my world has crumbled to pieces. I hate that you’re going through it with me but I don’t want it for you. I want you happy but you won’t be while I’m like this. Not while I’m unhappy.” He shakes his head.

  “I’ve lost both of my parents and it hurts. I don’t want you to hurt just because I am. I don’t even know when I’ll be able to face the reality of it entirely but once I do, it’s going to feel like a million rocks have been thrown at me—like someone has just shot me a dozen times with a gun. It’s going to kill me all over again.”

  Silence seizes the car, the heaviness growing between us. My gaze drifts as I stare at my lap. So that’s what’s been on his mind? He doesn’t want me to be unhappy since he’s unhappy. He wants me smiling, but how can I smile when the one I love is going through heartache? I wish I could be the one to heal the pain and help him but he doesn’t want my help. I don’t think he wants anything to do with me right now.

  Nolan cranks the car with a sigh and pulls out of the parking lot, leaving me with no choice but to remain silent. Is this it? Is he not going to say anything else about it? Is he just going to leave it in the air? I’ve learned that leaving shit in the air makes matters worse. Take my parents for instance. Their lack of communication almost led them into a divorce.

  It takes us only ten minutes to get back to the house and as soon as he pulls into the driveway and turns the car off, he gets out quickly and shuts the door behind him. I push out, refusing to let him walk away from what’s just happened.

  “Nolan!” I yell after him as he opens the garage.

  He doesn’t look back and it pisses me off even more. The anger and frustration is boiling to surface with each step he takes away from me. He continues ahead, opening the door that leads to the kitchen and stepping in, leaving the door open behind him.

  “Nolan, talk to me please,” I beg.

  I shut the door behind me and in only a matter of seconds, he spins around to face me. I’ve never seen him so upset. Not since he fought my best frie
nd Mark at the beach. That was the angriest I had seen him but I think now is worse. Veins are popping out of his forehead. His eyes are glistening and his fists are clenched tightly. A heavy line draws between his eyebrows and creases form at his forehead as he steps towards me.

  “Natalie.” His face then softens as he cups my jawline. I feel the tears pricking at my eyes but I force myself to hold off on them. I don’t know whether I should be afraid or glad he’s calmed down that fast. He stares into my eyes briefly before finally tearing his gaze away to look down. “Natalie, I can’t do this,” he mumbles, shaking his head. His voice is faint, defeated.

  “Do what, Nolan?”

  “This. Us. I can’t right now.” His fingers stroke the flesh behind my ears and at the nape of my neck before he pulls away and runs his fingers through his hair. His gaze doesn’t drift from mine for one second. “I love you with all my heart—I swear I do—but I’ve never felt so low in my life. I’ve never hurt this bad over anything. This doesn’t even compare to my dad’s death. He was murdered and I lived through nightmares. As a child I envisioned every bullet that was shot in his direction, hitting him. I couldn’t get it out of my head that he had been shot to death—and it wasn’t even his fault. He was at the wrong place at the wrong time. They mistook him for someone else and they just . . . shot him. I felt so alone and even while I’m with you, I feel alone and it shouldn’t be like this. I know it’s not your fault for trying but . . .”

  Nolan’s eyes begin to glisten and my eyes water, too—not just from hearing about his dad’s murder but from him telling me that he can’t do us anymore.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Bunny. I don’t want to destroy this anymore than I have so I think it’s best if we take some time apart. I need space right now. I can’t deal with anyone’s emotions outside of my own.”

  My chest constricts and not long after, the tears fall. So we’re breaking up? After four months of happiness and wholeness, we’re done? It just doesn’t feel real. I’ve never wanted this to happen because, if anything, it could be permanent. Nolan picked me up after being hurt once before but this has just crushed me completely. My heart is bursting and the pieces are scattering throughout my entire body. It’s a painful feeling—almost like glass stabbing at every part of me on the inside and I know that no matter how hard I try to stop it, it’s impossible. I can’t escape it. I can’t run from it. It hurts to have this intense feeling repeated.

  Nolan pulls me into his arms and leads the way to his bedroom. The tears grow so heavy that I don’t even realize I’ve curled myself beneath the blankets and sheets of his bed. I feel so out of it. I remember him kissing my hair and stepping out of the room, but that’s it. He didn’t say a word. He just left me lying here.

  I hate being in his room because I can smell him everywhere. My chest tightens again and the tears splurge. It’s back to square one again. It hurts like hell—especially since I’ve experienced it before. It’s what I get for opening myself up to him. I should have known he was going to hurt me one way or another.

  Time passes and I don’t know when I fall asleep but I’m glad I do and I’m glad the sleep is dark and visionless. Most of my dreams are filled with Nolan’s eyes, lips, and even his body . . . but not tonight. Tonight there’s nothing but emptiness behind my swollen eyelids.

  ****

  The funeral was short, sullen, and to the point. Nolan and Mills have more family than I thought but of course I was introduced to none of them as Nolan’s girlfriend. I hated that Nolan left before I had even awake. I had to ride with Mills to the funeral but I didn’t mind it. I was kind of glad I didn’t have to look at him. I was also glad I’d packed my sexiest black dress and heels. I made sure my hair was pinned elegantly with a few tendrils hanging loose. I caught him staring at me from across the grave as I placed my rose on the coffin but I refused to even look in his direction.

  Although I can respect him for giving me the truth, I just can’t believe it. For the past four months we were more than happy with one another. Four months doesn’t seem like long but between Nolan and I it meant a lot. He called every night and when he did we would talk for hours. We knew better than to give up on one another but I guess all things happen for a reason, right? I’ll give him his space but I don’t want it to last for very long. I’m hoping this is just a phase and a test of our love.

  As soon as Mills pulls up to his house and I hop out, I stop him before he can put his car in drive. I’ve been thinking about it since this morning and now I feel like it’s the best thing to do.

  “Do you think you can drop me off at the airport now? My flight isn’t until five but I’d rather get there early to beat traffic and stuff, you know?”

  Mills sighs, putting the car in park. For a moment I think he’s going to figure out why I want to leave so early but when he says, “Yeah. Anything that will keep me away from the wake,” a rush of relief takes over me.

  I stare into Mills’s tired eyes before nodding. “I’ll be quick,” I tell him before shutting the door and dashing for the garage.

  I hurry and pack all of my things quickly, just in case Nolan happens to show up. I don’t want to leave without a proper goodbye but how can I say goodbye when it will feel like it’s meant to be that way forever? How can I go through with looking him in the eye and saying farewell? I know it’s going to kill me so I refuse to make it happen. I’ll just give him his space, like he asked.

  Sighing, I step out of Nolan’s room with my tote bag and my suitcase. I rest my tote on the table and look around, debating on how I’ll actually let him know that I’m gone. As soon as it clicks, I unzip my tote and pull out a scrap sheet of yellow paper and a pen.

  I write until my vision blurs and a few teardrops land on the paper and the table. Finally placing the cap on my pen, I lay the paper on the center of the table and take a deep breath. Before I can let the tears get to me, I grip the handles of my tote bag and suitcase and step out of the house, inhaling deeply and leaving nothing behind but the pain within my words.

  Chapter Eight

  Nolan

  “Where’s Mills?” my aunt Macy asks. I turn to my right, looking at her with a shrug.

  “Not sure, Aunt Macy.”

  She nods, placing a hand on the sleeve of my suit. I stare down at her, watching as she swallows heavily. “Leona was a great sister and mother, you know that right?” she asks. “She loved you boys but I know it was a mistake to let you go. I’m glad you forgave her and came back to take care of her. It makes me so proud. It lets me know she raised you two the right way.”

  My throat becomes scratchy but I take a sip of wine to block it. “Thanks.”

  She smiles, her stained red lips stretching against her pale skin. Aunt Macy looks just like my mom and it makes it worse. They’re practically twins with the same curly, dark-brown hair, bright grey eyes, and button nose. They’re the same height and everything and I think the only reason anyone can tell the difference between them is because of the wrinkles forming around Aunt Macy’s eyes. She’s six years older than my mother.

  “I have someone here I would like you to meet,” she says, circling her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “I just met her earlier. She’s an adorable young lady and she was one of Leona’s best students at the university.”

  I shrug. I’ve been introduced and bombarded by all of the other random people who think they knew my mother so well. Why not add another? “Where is she?”

  “She’s outside with a few classmates. Let me go and get her.”

  Aunt Macy walks off and trails her way outside. Deciding I need more wine, I turn for the kitchen of her house and grab the bottle. I fill it halfway but then Natalie comes to mind. I hate what I’d said to her but I felt like it was needed. She’s supposed to be here right now but I don’t know where she is. I wasn’t expecting Mills to arrive early. I knew he wasn’t going to be up for the crowd and the people paying their respects so however late he could get, he would ta
ke it.

  This morning I had to get myself ready early. Not only did I have to go and get the roses from the flower shop, but I also didn’t want to wake up to the awkwardness of seeing Natalie. If she would have rode with me to the funeral the tension in the air would have been awkward and heavy and I don’t think I would have handled it correctly.

  Seeing her at the funeral made me do a double take. She looked wonderful in her black dress that stopped just above the knees and revealed a smidget of cleavage. Her hair was pinned up and her lips were glossy but I noticed the sad look in her eyes as she arrived with Mills. She stood by his side the entire time and comforted him and a part of me wanted to blow up because it should have been me she was comforting. I should have had my arm around her shoulders, not my brother.

  But I guess I deserve it for now. I just need some time alone. I need time to actually gather my thoughts and cope with the idea that I’m not just fatherless, but motherless, too. I can’t continue to cause harm to her emotions so taking some space is best.

  “Nolan?”

  I spin around with my glass in hand to the sound of Aunt Macy’s voice but my gaze jerks over quickly to the familiar blonde with plump lips and a tight black blouse and black skirt on. Her green eyes pierce through mine and she smiles, clutching her glass of wine.

  “I’d like you to meet Sharon. Leona told me a lot about how she helped out with afterschool tutoring and even coordinated a Mathematician Group for the university.”

  My gaze lingers on Sharon and as I look her over, I partially cringe. Partially because she’s one of the many exes who broke my heart but looks hotter than hell.

  “I’ve met her before,” I mutter tightly.

  Aunt Macy looks at me, her head tilting. “Really? Where? Did Leona bring her around?”

  “No. I knew her before she’d even met my mother.”

  “Yeah,” Sharon butts in. “Nolan and I go way back. We were pretty tight in twelfth grade.” She flashes a wide, white smile beneath her glossed lips but I look away from her to my aunt.