When August Ends

I couldn’t let him go back to Pennsylvania without having him one more time. Even if I had to beg for it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

* * *

NOAH

My insides twisted as we drove home from the restaurant.

I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to this place, to say goodbye to Heather.

Earlier when that psychic had put me on the spot about my feelings, I’d wanted to tell her the truth: that she’d guessed correctly—that I was in love with Heather. In my heart, I knew she was right. It wasn’t something I wanted to admit now, not with Heather’s future on the line. But that woman was fucking good.

I drove past the exit we normally took to get to the new house. Heather didn’t question where we were going. A few minutes later, we pulled into a desolate parking area that overlooked Lake Winnipesaukee.

I turned the car off and leaned my head back against the headrest before turning to her. “I wanted to look at the stars with you one last time.”

Her voice was breathy. “Is that all you want?”

Fuck no, it isn’t. I rubbed my hand over her thigh, feeling my erection growing by the second.

“I need you one more time before you go, Noah. Please.”

No way could I stop this; I was feeling too weak. I’d been a Boy Scout these past several weeks, but I’d run out of whatever had kept me in control. I knew damn well why I’d taken her here. It wasn’t only to look at the stars. I had to have her, too.

She reached over and placed her hand on my crotch, and I knew I was done. Her eyes brimmed with desire. I drew in a ragged breath as I leaned over to devour her lips, letting out weeks of pent-up frustration. She moaned into my mouth as our kiss grew frantic.

She climbed over to the driver’s seat to straddle me.

Desperate to be inside of her, I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans.

There was one major problem, though. I didn’t have a condom.

I stopped the kiss long enough to say, “I don’t have anything with me…no condoms.”

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill. I have been this whole time.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, as long as you’re—”

“I’m good. Got a clean bill of health before I left Pennsylvania, and I’ve always been safe.”

She kissed me ravenously as she reached under her skirt and worked her panties down her legs.

I was rock hard as I took my dick out of my jeans and guided her body onto mine. Sinking into her warm pussy felt even more incredible than I’d remembered.

I’d only had unprotected sex when I was married; I’d never trusted any other woman enough to do it without a condom. I’d forgotten what it even felt like. But it had never felt this amazing. Nothing had.

“Fuck, Heather. You feel too damn good like this.” I thrust into her harder.

Our eyes locked. She dug her fingernails into my hair.

The truck shook as we were completely lost in each other. It was terrifying to be inside of her with thoughts of tomorrow looming. She felt like mine in every way right now, and I didn’t want that to change.

But I needed to let her go to know whether she really was mine.

It didn’t take long for our starving bodies to lose control. We gasped for air as I quaked beneath her, emptying my cum as she squeezed her pussy around my cock. That thing. I was so freaking grateful to have felt it again, so freaking grateful for every second we had left.

***

The sound of birds chirping woke me. Heather was still asleep in my arms in the backseat of the truck.

I had only dozed off for a little bit. We’d been up most of the night.

Heather had fallen asleep before I did. In the middle of the night, I’d reached into my glove compartment for a notepad I kept there and had written her a letter. I would probably be too overwhelmed later to articulate my feelings, so I wanted to get them down while they were fresh. Being intimate with her again had brought out everything I’d been suppressing.

I’d lost count of the number of times we’d had sex last night. It seemed like enough to undo all those days of celibacy, though. And made what was set to happen today even harder.

Heather stirred before she looked up at me.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“I’m not sure. But it doesn’t matter. I’m in no rush.”

“I didn’t think I’d be able to fall asleep.” She yawned. “Figured we’d just stay up all night.”

“Well, we definitely used a lot of energy. It’s no wonder you crashed.”

She curled into me. I kissed the top of her head as we stared out at the morning sun over the lake, a virtual clock ticking in my brain.

There were no words.

***

The rest of that day was one big blur.

Suddenly, I was standing in front of my packed truck with nothing left to do but say goodbye to Heather. I wished for something to delay me—a mishap or flat tire, maybe. But everything was in place, even Bonnie and Clyde, loaded up with tons of hay and situated in their carriers in the backseat.

I felt sick.

When I took her in my arms, Heather’s cry was so intense it was silent. She buried her face in my chest. “This doesn’t feel right.”

I felt my own tears close to the surface. I fought them with all my might. I couldn’t let her see my sadness right now. I needed to be strong for both of us.

“Heather, look at me.” I swiped my finger beneath her eye. “Look at me, baby.”

There was so much I wanted to tell her, but I needed to be careful. If I admitted I was in love with her, she might take that as a sign she shouldn’t go away. I still felt she needed the experience that lay ahead of her more than anything.

Holding on to her face and looking into her eyes, I said, “This isn’t goodbye.”

Her voice trembled. “Why does it feel so much like it, then?”

“We’ll take it day by day, okay?”

She sniffled and played with the buttons of my shirt. “I know you say you came here to help me, to set me on a good path. You did so much more than that. You’re the first man in my life to make me feel safe, who truly believed in me enough to make a difference. I’ll always be grateful for you and for this summer, even though I’m nowhere ready to let you go.”

Tell her you love her.

I just didn’t know if that was the right thing to do. So I kept it in, even though I felt those words so strongly in my heart they were practically bursting from my chest.

She wiped her nose with her sleeve and sort of laughed. “Is it weird that I’m jealous of Bonnie and Clyde because they get to be with you?”

I forced myself to crack a smile. “Spoiled rodents…”

Reaching into my pocket, I took out the letter. “I wrote you something while you were sleeping last night. I was wired because of all of the thoughts in my head. Read it after I leave, sometime tonight when you’re feeling lonely and sad.”

The paper crinkled as she clutched it to her chest. “Thank you. I will.”

I looked around one last time. “I’d better go. If I don’t force myself, I’ll never leave.”

Her eyes filled with tears again, but she nodded.

It killed me to see her this broken up, but she looked the way I felt inside. There was no easy way to do this.

She gripped my shirt as if to keep me from leaving. When she finally let go, I forced myself into the truck. If I waited for the moment when leaving felt right, it would never happen.

Heather hugged herself and backed up a couple of feet to watch me drive away.

I managed to start the truck but couldn’t put it into drive yet.

After I mustered the courage to shift into gear, I pressed down on the gas and started to drive away. From the rearview mirror, I could see her bury her head in her hands. That broke my heart. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t drive off and leave her crying in the driveway.

Rather than put the truck in reverse, I parked it on the side of the street and ran back toward her. She looked up in surprise as I lifted her into my arms and held her tightly.

This was what I’d been holding back in an attempt to avoid losing it. But escaping into my truck the way I had wasn’t right. I’d been trying to avoid this pain, but she needed this. I needed this. We needed to hold each other—for as long as necessary—one last time before I disappeared.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

* * *

HEATHER

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

Heather,

As I write this, I’m watching you sleep. You look so peaceful, and that’s very ironic because I know there’s a lot of confusion swirling around in that beautiful head of yours—mainly confusion about us, where things stand, what the future holds.

You’re probably wondering how I could possibly let you go after last night, how I could walk away from something that feels so incredibly right.

Please don’t mistake my leaving for uncertainty about you.

When I first came out here, it was to help you in any way I could. Because of my guilt, I felt I needed to atone for my past mistakes. But you have helped me more than I could ever help you. You helped me to see the good in myself, to see myself the way YOU see me. You brought me joy I wasn’t expecting. My life is happier with you in it.

At the same time, I recognize that I’m flawed. I made a lot of mistakes when it came to my marriage, and while I feel like I learned from them, I still can’t be one-hundred percent sure I would make the best long-term partner for you, that I wouldn’t fuck up again. Despite those fears, I want to try to be the type of man you deserve.