I don’t know how long we stand there, in the middle of the room, wrapped around one another while our friends probably don’t know where to look. Eventually, Dillon tips my head back, and I’m startled to see such raw emotion in his glassy eyes. He stares at me, chest heaving, and I see his love written across his face as plain as day.
Pain presses down on my chest, but I won’t give in to it. I can’t. I don’t want this last special weekend in Ireland to be marred by sadness. I’m not sorry I sang that song even if it has forced both of us to face our reality. Stretching up, I kiss him, and our lips rest against each others’ as we silently speak our truths.
Hours pass, and we sit around the living room, drinking, eating chips and cookies, talking, and laughing, and I never want the night to end. Dillon is cocooned around me, like he’s afraid to let go. I’m cuddled into his side on the reclining chair, unable to untangle my limbs.
Orangey-red streaks paint the sky outside, signaling the start of another day, and we finally depart to our bedrooms except for Ro and his girlfriend. They drew the short straw, so they’re sleeping on the couch.
Dillon stumbles as I lead him up the stairs, and I realize he’s far drunker than usual. Circling my arm around his back, I let him lean on me while I steer him to the room we’re staying in. Dropping him on the bed, I bend down to kiss his brow. “I’m going to grab us some water. Be back in a sec.”
“Stay,” he murmurs, reaching his arm out.
I smile, lifting his palm to my face and pressing a kiss to his skin. “I’ll be right back.”
When I return a few minutes later, he hasn’t moved a muscle. I prop pillows against the headboard and force him to sit up against it. “Drink.” I shove the water in his hand. Kneeling in front of him, I remove his sneakers. Grains of sand fall on the hardwood floor, so I grab a towel from our weekend bag and gently clean his feet.
“You care about me,” he says, but it’s more of a statement than a question.
“I do.” I toss the towel on the floor and pop the button on his jeans.
“I…I care about you too.” He slurs the words a little.
“I know you do, babe.” I brush his messy hair off his brow. “Drink,” I order, tugging at his jeans.
“I need to tell you something,” he croaks, and I stop pulling his jeans down his legs.
“Okay.” I peer into his face, instantly seeing the turmoil there.
“I’m afraid to tell you.”
I gulp over the ball of nerves in my throat, wondering what it is he has to say, instinctively knowing it’s not something I’ll want to hear. I pull his jeans off and tuck his legs under the covers.
“We promised each other honesty, Dillon. If it’s something I need to know, just tell me.” I whip my clothes off and crawl into bed beside him.
His eyes flutter closed before popping open again. “I never planned this. It wasn’t supposed to happen,” he slurs. “Now I’m going to be like the man in that song, driven mad by the loss of the woman he loves.” His head drops back against the headboard, and his eyes close again.
My heart stutters in my chest, and tears well in my eyes. I don’t know if they’re happy or sad ones.
The bottle slips between his fingers, and I grab it in the nick of time.
“Why did he tell me? Why couldn’t it have been like this.” He points a shaky finger between us, as I place his bottle down on my bedside table. “The way it’s meant to be.”
“I don’t understand.” He’s not making any sense.
Dillon slips down under the covers, and I lie on my side, gently wiping the quiet tears falling from his eyes with mounting concern.
“You’re mine, Vivien.” He pulls me into his warm naked chest. “You’re mine. Not his.Mine. Mine. Mine.”
Now it’s my turn to cry, and I’m working hard to hold my sobs inside. To keep shoving that pain back down inside. To not think about this because there is nothing I can do about it. It’s not like I can stay even if I want to. Dillon is right about one thing; it wasn’t supposed to be like this. My heart was not supposed to get involved. It was supposed to be fun, and I could walk away without looking back.
A loud snore rips through my desolate thoughts, and I look up at my boyfriend. He’s out cold. Head back. Mouth slightly open. Oblivious to the emotional torment twisting my insides into knots.
I guess I fall asleep because the next thing I’m aware of is the bed shaking as Dillon gets up. I have no clue what time it is, but my eyelids are too heavy, and they refuse to open. I’m just drifting back to sleep when the bed dips and Dillon wraps himself around me from behind. I smile in my semi-sleep state, loving how safe and warm I always feel in his arms. His lips brush my ear. “I love you, Vivien Grace. You are the one. The only one. For now and eternity.”