among other things, I wonder if I’ve ever really dealt with it because even now, seven years later, I haven’t gotten over it, or at least it still haunts me. Losing Dan is the reason I’ve stayed single for seven years, the reason I’ve kept my legs closed and the reason I’ve devoted myself to my job. I love my job and I loved Dan.
I keep trying to tell myself that my fear is stupid, that my fear is completely irrational, but when you’ve lost two men in your life that you’ve loved dearly, it’s hard to put your heart out there for another one. First my dad to illness, followed by Dan’s death. I was never able to apologize for the fight, say good-bye or tell him I loved him one more time. I’ve lived with that guilt for far too long.
Until now, being here on this bus. It was easy to live with it, deal with and some days even forget about it entirely. But coming on this bus, figuring out that Kyle is Dan’s brother, on top of the fact that for the first time in a long time, someone is actually capturing my attention has the guilt meter rising much higher and I don’t know how to handle it. But I’ve got to find a way to deal with it and dealing with it means no longer feeding the animals. Throwing myself into work and doing what I do best, what I know to be my best outlet. If I throw myself into work, then I can’t get hurt because I won’t have time to fall in love.
There’s a knock on the wood surrounding the curtain. “Addison, are you awake?”
“No,” I groan.
“Liar.” The light pours into the room when Kyle comes in. “We’re about thirty minutes from Vegas.”
“Holy shit. What time is it?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
“Fuck. I can’t believe…” I rub my face, “God, I’ve never slept that long in my life.” He laughs and I sit up.
Kyle takes a deep, sharp breath and I can’t understand…Oh shit. I quickly pull up my tank top and cover my almost fully exposed tits. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
He takes a couple steps toward me with lust filled eyes. “Don’t be. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” I blush like a virgin and try to cover myself. “Please don’t do that. You’re beautiful, Addison.” I shiver at the tone of his voice. Like Talon it has dropped to a soft sultry tone that makes my nipples harden beneath my tank top.
His hand wraps around my arm, he tugs on it to free it from the trap of my chest, trying to pull it away. I pull it back. “I can’t,” I breathe.
He freezes, removes his hand and takes a step back. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice is soft and apologetic.
“It’s not your fault, I wasn’t…”
“It’s alright. I should go. Let you get ready.”
“Kyle, I…”
“Shh, it’s alright, Addison.”
For some unexplained reason, I want to cry. I have no idea why I said I can’t, no clue why I can’t let this happen, why I can’t let him touch me, or…
He slides out between the curtains and disappears. I let the tears consume me. I know why I couldn’t. I woke up thinking about Dan this morning and the guilt is back. Radiating from every pore in my body and I hate it. I hate that I have to feel this way. I hate that after all this time, Dan still has this effect on me.
He and I had a great relationship, but it wasn’t effortless, it wasn’t like breathing and it certainly wasn’t love at first sight with him. I remember thinking early on in our relationship that we were good for each other because we let each other live our dreams. But at what cost?
There was a point, after he died, that I felt relief. That relief quickly turned to guilt because I shouldn’t feel relieved that my fiancé had died, right? Well, that was what I told myself at the time. I felt guilty for the realization that I wasn’t a widow, that I didn’t lose a husband, just someone that I was comfortable with. Someone who was familiar. Maybe that’s all it was. Maybe all the love I think I felt for him was superficial and I’m
I keep trying to tell myself that my fear is stupid, that my fear is completely irrational, but when you’ve lost two men in your life that you’ve loved dearly, it’s hard to put your heart out there for another one. First my dad to illness, followed by Dan’s death. I was never able to apologize for the fight, say good-bye or tell him I loved him one more time. I’ve lived with that guilt for far too long.
Until now, being here on this bus. It was easy to live with it, deal with and some days even forget about it entirely. But coming on this bus, figuring out that Kyle is Dan’s brother, on top of the fact that for the first time in a long time, someone is actually capturing my attention has the guilt meter rising much higher and I don’t know how to handle it. But I’ve got to find a way to deal with it and dealing with it means no longer feeding the animals. Throwing myself into work and doing what I do best, what I know to be my best outlet. If I throw myself into work, then I can’t get hurt because I won’t have time to fall in love.
There’s a knock on the wood surrounding the curtain. “Addison, are you awake?”
“No,” I groan.
“Liar.” The light pours into the room when Kyle comes in. “We’re about thirty minutes from Vegas.”
“Holy shit. What time is it?”
“Twelve-thirty.”
“Fuck. I can’t believe…” I rub my face, “God, I’ve never slept that long in my life.” He laughs and I sit up.
Kyle takes a deep, sharp breath and I can’t understand…Oh shit. I quickly pull up my tank top and cover my almost fully exposed tits. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”
He takes a couple steps toward me with lust filled eyes. “Don’t be. You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?” I blush like a virgin and try to cover myself. “Please don’t do that. You’re beautiful, Addison.” I shiver at the tone of his voice. Like Talon it has dropped to a soft sultry tone that makes my nipples harden beneath my tank top.
His hand wraps around my arm, he tugs on it to free it from the trap of my chest, trying to pull it away. I pull it back. “I can’t,” I breathe.
He freezes, removes his hand and takes a step back. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice is soft and apologetic.
“It’s not your fault, I wasn’t…”
“It’s alright. I should go. Let you get ready.”
“Kyle, I…”
“Shh, it’s alright, Addison.”
For some unexplained reason, I want to cry. I have no idea why I said I can’t, no clue why I can’t let this happen, why I can’t let him touch me, or…
He slides out between the curtains and disappears. I let the tears consume me. I know why I couldn’t. I woke up thinking about Dan this morning and the guilt is back. Radiating from every pore in my body and I hate it. I hate that I have to feel this way. I hate that after all this time, Dan still has this effect on me.
He and I had a great relationship, but it wasn’t effortless, it wasn’t like breathing and it certainly wasn’t love at first sight with him. I remember thinking early on in our relationship that we were good for each other because we let each other live our dreams. But at what cost?
There was a point, after he died, that I felt relief. That relief quickly turned to guilt because I shouldn’t feel relieved that my fiancé had died, right? Well, that was what I told myself at the time. I felt guilty for the realization that I wasn’t a widow, that I didn’t lose a husband, just someone that I was comfortable with. Someone who was familiar. Maybe that’s all it was. Maybe all the love I think I felt for him was superficial and I’m
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