After Forever by Jasinda Wilder
He seemed...troubled. "I'm sorry, I--"
I put my hand over his mouth. "Don't. Thank you. You didn't have to do that. But thank you."
"But I couldn't--"
"It was more than anyone else has ever done for me. So thank you." I smirked at him. "Say, 'You're welcome.'"
"You're welcome." And then...he just walked out of the shower.
Right. Like I was going to let that just slide by. "Cade," I called. He stopped, turned around, his cock at half-mast. "What about you?"
He shrugged. "That was about you."
I shut the water off, stepped out. I didn't bother drying off. "Tell me what you want." His face told me he wanted things I couldn't give, so I clarified. "Tell me what you want me to do to you."
He seemed at a loss. "I don't...I don't know. Just...you." His eyes raked over me. "Just make me come. However you want."
He was thinking too hard, something told me. I sidled up to him, wrapped my fist around his length and pushed him backward, out of the bathroom and into the bedroom until he fell against the bed, sat down. I slid my fingers down his length. He closed his eyes, and I put my mouth around him. His head fell back, and I took him out of my mouth, curled my palm over the top, cupping the broad head and squeezing. With my other hand I cradled his sack, gently massaging, found his taint with my middle finger and pressed in, squeezing my fist down his cock, and then loosened my grip so that I was barely touching him and moved my fingers around him in a swift rhythm. As soon as he began moving in time with my hand, I slowed, gripped him firmly again, and sucked him into my mouth. He was gasping now, and his hips were gyrating, so I bobbed my head for him, taking him deeper and deeper every time I went down. He started moaning. I watched him, watched his face take on an expression of pleasure, and then he opened his eyes and met mine. He watched me take his cock into my mouth, holding the base and working it in short fast strokes.
"I'm gonna...god, I'm coming..." he croaked in warning.
I kept my eyes on his as I took him to the edge of my throat, working the thick base of his cock with my fist, cupping his sack and pressing hard onto his taint. He gripped the blanket on the bed, clearly forcing his hips still as he came. He groaned, cursed, and shot into my mouth, hot and wet and musky. I kept working him, felt another spasm wrack him, and took that, too.
He opened his eyes and stared down at me. When I knew he was done, I backed away and stood up, sat on the edge of the bed beside him.
"Better?" I asked. He nodded, but I sensed an additional weight of troubled guilt in his expression. "What, Cade? What's the point of all this if we're not honest with each other?"
He sighed. "I feel like we're...de-evolving. Devolving."
Ah. Another heavy, searching conversation. Fun. "How about we put this off for just a second. Get dressed. Pour us drinks."
We both put on a minimum of clothing. Just shorts for him, and a T-shirt for me. He uncapped each of us a beer, and we sat down on the couch, close but not touching.
"Now," I said, "explain what that means. How are we devolving? You mean you and me, or humans as a species, or what?"
"Us. You and me. I just mean that this started out as something we couldn't avoid. Couldn't stop. It wasn't about mere attraction. I mean, I'm a guy, okay? And you're hot. Not to put too fine a point on it, you're Ever's twin sister, so obviously I'd be...attracted. But it wasn't just that. Look, you go through life, you see all kinds of hot and attractive people. This is a topic of dissension for most couples, because guys see a hot girl, and they look. Maybe more than look. Maybe they think about what they'd like to do to that girl. Maybe they picture her naked, or wonder what having sex with her would be like. I'd say that's fairly natural. It doesn't mean you have any intention of doing anything about it, right? It's the scumbag cheaters and moral-less sluts who can't control that impulse, who have no filter that tells them, 'No, I shouldn't go around trying to actually fuck that person that I'm attracted to, since I'm in a relationship.'"
"I'm following you, but I'm not seeing the relevance to you and me. What we're doing with each other, I really don't want to think it makes you a scumbag and me a slut--"
He waved his hand to cut me off. "No. No. That's not what I meant. I'm getting to how it relates to you and me. That kind of stuff happens. I have that filter, okay. I could...I could walk down the street with Ever and see a hot chick, and not actually desire her, not have any ideas of doing anything with her. It would never enter my mind. I'd at most think, 'Hmm, that chick is pretty hot.' It wasn't like that with you. It wasn't like I sat around while I was with Ever--" He cut himself off, choked out a sigh that was almost a sob. "I'm still with her, right? I don't know. That's the real question in my life, isn't it? Anyway. When Ever was--before the accident, I mean, when you and Ever and I hung out, I saw the fact that you were hot, saw the fact that I found you attractive. But that was it. So it wasn't like as soon as I realized Ever was in a coma I thought, 'Well, fuck, here's my chance.'"
"I know that, Cade."
"It started out between you and me, as...just needing something. Something good, when everything's bad. Something comforting. And somehow it ended up translating into sex. I don't--I don't know why. I really don't. I've tried so hard to figure that out."
"Why is understanding it so important to you?" I asked.
"Because maybe if I understand it, I can stop it."
"Is it that bad?" I couldn't help taking it personally. I knew better. But my ability to think and act rationally was vanishing, or was already gone.
He frowned at me. "Jesus, Eden. Don't pin that shit on me." He got up and got two more beers, handed me one. "It's good, Eden. You need that affirmation? It's always really, really good. And that's part of the problem. I don't know what it was that started this between us, why, but now I'm starting to feel like it's something I can't control. More so than ever. I could never control it, I guess, but now I feel like I'm losing myself to it. To you. Like the only thing that makes any sense in my life anymore is...when you and I are having sex. And that's..."
"Fucked up," I supplied.
He slid down on the couch, groaning a long, dispirited sigh. "Yeah. Really, really fucked up." His voice dropped to a whisper so small I had to strain to hear him. "I'm not even sure about Ever anymore. If...if what we had was real. I'm--doubting...everything."
"God, Cade. That's the last thing I ever wanted--"
"I know! I know, Eden. Please know that in no way, no smallest way, do I blame any of this on you. There's no blame to be placed. It's just...if I could so easily forget her, and sink into this with you, then...did I ever even love her?"
"You did, Cade. You do."
"Then how did this happen? How did I get so...sucked into this?" He groaned again and scrubbed his face. "God, that came out wrong. Or it didn't, but I think you have to understand something. You're an amazing person, Eden. You're gorgeous. You're fucking...insanely talented. You've got a rocking body. You do. I know you doubt it, have issues or whatever, but...look. Yeah, you have curves. But underneath those curves, you're hard as a rock. And that's a sexy-as-fuck combination." He seemed to be forcing this out of himself. "I know our relationship hasn't exactly lent itself to me...I don't know, building you up, I guess. I should be. I should be making you feel good about yourself. I haven't been, and I'm sorry."
I had to breathe hard and fast and look away to keep from breaking down. "Cade, stop. You're not...we're not--in a relationship. You don't owe me that. And the fact that you think that, that you're telling me, it means more than you'll ever know." Not crying. Not crying. "No one's ever--ever said that. Ever--ever even cared enough to--to--fuck. Sorry." I was crying, and it wasn't the heartbroken kind of sobbing that can be almost attractive. No, this was self-pity crying, croaking, snotty, ugly crying.
He pulled me against him. "And that's a fucking crime. You deserve better. You deserve so much better than what I'm giving you. That's part of my problem. What this whole conversation is about. That?" H
I had to think hard about what I wanted to say. "Are you...feeling like you're...I don't know. Degrading me somehow?"
He shrugged; it was a small and miserable gesture. "Yeah. Kind of."
I sat up, pivoted, and sat cross-legged facing him, pulling a throw pillow onto my lap. "Cade. It wasn't degrading. I didn't feel that way. You gave me something, and I wanted to give it back."
"Okay, and that makes me feel a bit less shitty, but it doesn't answer my more central question: Is that what this has become between us? Sexual favors given and returned?"
I shrugged. "Maybe. In a way, yeah, I suppose so. But does that change things? Does it make what we're doing any better or worse?"
"I don't know. I don't know anything, Eden. I'm a mess. I'm confused, scared, worried. So many things."
"I am, too. I don't mean I'm okay with what we're doing. I feel mixed up about it, too. But it does provide me with some kind of...comfort. Distraction. Pleasure, when being without my sister is...it's fucking hell. Being in this limbo is hell. And when I'm with you, I can forget, if only for a little bit." I swallowed hard, pulling an admission from the buried hole of my heart. "I don't...I don't want to stop, Cade. And yeah, I feel...sometimes I feel like that makes me slutty. But it's the truth. It's just true. I don't want to stop. Not yet. It's selfish. It's horrible. But there it is."
"There's no way to say this without it sounding horrible, so I'm just gonna say it. While you were in the shower, before I went in, I had this thought, this...image. I feel like wanting you, needing this whatever-it-is with you, this odd relationship, the sex, the companionship, everything, but especially the sex, I feel like it's a demon inside me, a hungry demon. And every time I'm with you, I think a part of me hopes that I'll have given the demon what it needs. And then, today, I wondered if I was trying to exhaust the demon, sate him, so he wouldn't...wouldn't need you anymore." He held onto me, talking into my hair, and I felt the exhalation of his breath on my scalp with every word. "I don't want to need this anymore. Not that you're not worth wanting or needing, because you are. But because...who I was with Ever was...a better person. And I want to hold on to him, onto that person. That Cade. Not this weak, selfish Cade. You deserve so much fucking better than what I have left, which is what you're getting. You deserve better than sex that's...steeped in guilt, and confusion."
He shifted so I had to look at him, and I sensed the crux of this whole long admission coming.
"You deserve better, Eden," he repeated. "You deserve love, and I--I can't give that to you."
I had no response. I lowered my head to his shoulder and held on to him, onto whatever shred of comfort I could get.
If I deserved better than whatever Cade had left, and if what I was getting from Cade was several orders of magnitude better than what I'd ever known, then...what would love be like? I couldn't fathom it, and I couldn't even begin to wonder where I could possibly find it.
But I wanted it.
final wisdom
Caden
Ever,
My love, my darling. My everything.
Every day, every single day for nearly a year and half now, I've sat in this chair at your bedside and talked to you, read the latest letter. Just sat with you. Sketched. Watched TV beside you. Over 500 consecutive days. I haven't missed one.
That has to mean I still love you, right? It has to mean something.
But I don't know how to do it anymore. I just don't. I want to give up. I'm the most pathetic, shitty, horrible person who's ever lived for saying that, for writing it and thinking it and reading it to you, whether you actually hear anything in that coma or not. But fucking hell, Ever, it's true. It's true. I can't do this anymore.
The worst part? I don't know HOW to give up. Coming to see you, writing letters to you, it's part of me. It's just as automatic as breathing, as eating. Actually, I forget to eat sometimes. If I stopped visiting, would I forget you? Would one day lead to two, and that into a week, a month, a year? Would I just...act like you don't exist anymore?
I wouldn't be able to forget. You are my soul, and even if I never visited you again, I'd still never be able to forget you.
I've forgotten the sound of your voice, though. I've forgotten the way you feel when I hold you. I haven't forgotten the way you smell. That's the weirdest thing. I can't remember the way you'd look at me, and I can't remember how you felt or how you tasted. I have memories of us, but they're vague and fading every day. But the way you smell, that vanilla sugar lotion. I can close my eyes and smell that, clear as day. That smell, it's in me, on me, unforgettable. I was in class the other day, and some girl sitting near me had that lotion on. I couldn't mistake that smell anywhere. I turned around and she had a tube of it, and she was rubbing it on her hands. Right behind me. And I nearly fucking lost it. I had to leave class. I was nauseous. Sick. The smell hit me, and I could see you. Eyes open, awake; I could see you on our bed, in the morning sunlight, naked and just out of the shower, spreading that lotion on your arms and legs. I cried in the bathroom. I sat in a toilet stall and cried.
No matter what, I love you. I'll never stop loving you. I don't know if you'll love me when you wake up. If you'll be able to. But even if you don't, I'll love you. Forever, and after forever. Even if I don't deserve your love back.
Your loving husband,
Cade
I carefully folded the letter and put it in with the rest. I had filled one shoe box, and was well on my way to maxing out a second. I put the box in its place inside the drawer next to the nightstand by her bed. And then, as I did more and more often, I simply sat in silence until I could take it no more. It wasn't truly silence, of course. There were machines beeping, the respirator sighing. Pages over the PA in the hallways, voices passing, shoes squeaking. But I was silent. I didn't know what to say out loud anymore. I could write things to her, but I couldn't form words.
I stared at her, hands curled into fists on my knee, watching the respirator pump and make her breathe. Sometimes, as I stared at her, I'd feel a sense of desperation wash over me. Usually I'd leave then, and try to ignore the feeling until it passed. I'd go home and sketch until the darkness in my skull abated, or I'd text Eden. Some days we'd just hang out, watch movies, have dinner, pretending we were some sick, twisted parody of a normal couple. Sometimes we'd end up fucking, sometimes not.
Today, however, when the desperation struck me with meteoric force, I sat and bore it. I let it rip through me. I let it burn in my gut and churn in my brain. I began to rock in the chair, back and forth. And then I took her cold, frail hand and lifted it, bent over it, pressed my lips to the blue-veined back and hyperventilated until I went dizzy.
I hadn't spoken a word out loud to her that I hadn't written beforehand in four months. The knowledge was a viper in my soul, injecting venom into my bloodstream.
"Ever..." It was a hiss, a breathless gasp, barely intelligible as language. "I need you, Ever. I need you to--to live. Or die. I can't do this anymore, Ever. Live. Come back to me. Or...let me go."
People said time heals all wounds. But what if...what if this wound couldn't heal, was always being ripped open and kept raw and ragged and bleeding? No matter how much time passed, the wound left by Ever's coma would never heal. As long as she lay trapped between life and death, I'd never heal.
I was trapped, as much as she was. I felt like my entire life was this room, the bed, Ever's unchanging form under the blankets, classes I had no interest in anymore, and Eden. The guilt of Eden, the illicit, stolen comfort of every moment spent with her. It was all a cycle.
I was broken and exhausted.
"I'm gonna go away for a while, Ev," I whispered. "I'm gonna go visit Gramps. I'll be back soo
I left her, drove to my condo, and began packing. While I was stuffing clothes into my duffel bag, the same black bag I'd taken to Interlochen Arts Academy, I heard a knock on my door, jerked it open to let Eden in.
"Hey," I said, and went back to packing.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
I answered without looking at her. "Visit Gramps."
"For how long?"
"I dunno. Couple of days. Not long." I turned around to glance at her, and wished I hadn't.
She was wearing nothing but yoga shorts and a sports bra, both royal blue, and she was covered in a sheen of sweat. She had her hair pulled back in a tight braid, accentuating her cheekbones and the curve of her neck.
"You're leaving now?"
I nodded. "Yeah." She looked...upset. "Look, I know this is sudden, but I just...I have to get away. I can't take it. And I have to see Gramps. I have this feeling that if I don't go see him now, I might not have another chance."
She just nodded. I waited for her to say something, to explain what was eating her, but she didn't.
"What, Eden?"
"I just feel like, why now? What about Ever?"
I jerked the zipper of the duffel closed. "What about her? It's not like she'll miss me." The words dripped vitriolic bitterness.
Eden gasped. "Cade! You don't really believe--"
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT I BELIEVE!" I yelled. "Will she miss me? Won't she? No one knows! I can't stay here anymore, Eden. I just can't. I'm gonna be certifiably committable if I don't deal with the fucked-up mess that is my life. I have to face the reality that Ever may never wake up and I may just be alone for the rest of my life. I can't keep doing this with you, Eden. It's tearing me apart."
Eden closed her eyes, turned away. "I know. I get it."
"But?"
She whirled. "But I don't have anywhere to go to get away from this!"
"You think I want to be visiting a dying grandfather? He's the closest thing to a parent I've had since Mom died, and now he's--I feel like he's gonna die, too, and I have to see him. I have to."
Her shoulders sagged. "Fuck, Cade. I'm sorry. That was unfair of me."