Back to You

“Early. Probably sun up.”

Lauren glanced over at the clock on his nightstand. It was almost midnight.

She swallowed, trying to keep her voice even. “Should I go then?”

Michael shook his head behind her. “I’m not ready for you to go.”

Lauren closed her eyes. “Me either,” she sighed.

And she fell asleep right there in his arms, with him planting feather-light kisses in her hair.

She was half asleep and the sun hadn’t fully risen when she felt a hand brushing the hair away from her face.

She was too tired to open her eyes, but all at once, the memory of { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: an"> shoulder where she was and what had happened came back to her.

“Are you mad at me?” she murmured sleepily.

“No. I could never be mad at you.” His voice seemed far away, even though he was right next to her.

Maybe she was dreaming.

She felt him press his forehead to hers. Her eyes were still closed, but she smiled.

“Call me when you get there.”

For a second, there was only silence.

And just as she lost the battle with sleep, she heard his faint whisper. “Good-bye, Lauren.”

A few hours later, the sun was shining through his window, bathing her in warmth and light, and she finally opened her eyes. Lauren vaguely remembered having a conversation with him earlier that morning, but she wasn’t sure if she had dreamed it or not.

But she knew what had happened between them the night before wasn’t a dream, and she recalled every detail with perfect clarity, gri

She stood up, grabbed her things, got dressed, and straightened his sheets, smiling the entire time.

And when she slid into the driver’s seat of her car, she closed the door, dropped her head back, covered her face with her hands, and screamed.

She had never done drugs before, but she could imagine being high felt this way, and she could understand why people got addicted to it. Her body tingled, she couldn’t stop smiling, and as she drove home, she alternated between wanting to close her eyes and melt back into the seat, or slam on the brakes, jump out of the car, and run squealing in circles around it.

On her way home she called Je

Lauren made it home, existing somewhere in a vacuum and functioning on autopilot. She cleaned her room. She baked cookies. She took a nap. She rehashed every detail with Je

But there was no answer. Nor did he answer her call the following morning.

Or that afternoon.

By the following night, she started to panic, thinking maybe he’d gotten into an accident, that something had gone wrong.

And just as she was pla

How he guessed he hadn’t made himself clear the last time they had spoken. That if he was really going to start over, he’d need some time away from everything in his past to do it—and that included her. He pointed out how busy she’d be with her senior year coming up, and he assured her she’d hardly miss him. He reminded her that he’d moved to New York to get some distance, and she needed to respect that. He ended the short note by saying that when he finally had everything figured out, he’d be the one to contact her.

But she never heard from Michael Delaney again.

.

January 2012

Lauren had just finished chopping the vegetables for a stir-fry when her cell phone rang. She quickly wiped her hands on the dish towel { display: block; text-indent: 0%; font-size: 0.88rem; margin-top: e ry, bring over her shoulder before she reached across the counter and grabbed it.

Then she froze, watching Adam’s number flashing on the screen.

She stood that way, trying to ignore the unpleasant feeling in her stomach. She just needed a minute to get her bearings. Just a few more seconds to pull it together. Then she’d answer.

That’s what she told herself as she stood there, watching the number flash to the beat of her ringtone until finally he was redirected to her voice mail.

It was a spineless move. She knew that. Avoiding him wouldn’t solve anything. But she just needed a little more time to sort out her feelings.

Lauren closed her eyes and exhaled heavily as she put the phone back on the counter. Who was she kidding? There was nothing for her to sort out. She just wasn’t ready to say the words she knew she would have to say to him now.

Adam had invited her over for di

Throughout di

She held on to those thoughts for the entire evening, trying to convince herself she wasn’t about to sleep with Adam because she was desperate to distance herself from Michael.

But at the end of the evening, as they headed back to his bedroom, she knew that’s exactly what she was doing. When she weighed the fear of what would happen when she slept with Adam against what would happen if she didn’t put a stop to her growing feelings for Michael, her choice was clear, even if it was reprehensible.

As Adam touched her, kissed her, whispered the sweetest things in her ear, she clung desperately to the hope that once she gave herself over to him, it would become about Adam, about how much she liked him, about how perfect she knew they were for each other.

He did everything right. He was slow, and skilled, and so incredibly attentive.

And she’d felt absolutely nothing.

But that was how it always happened. She would meet a man. She would flirt and laugh and feel attracted to him.

It would all feel so normal.

They’d get to know each other. She’d start to like him. Everything would progress exactly the way it was supposed to, and she’d start to believe that maybe this time things would be different.

Then they’d sleep together, and she’d feel completely hollow.

And everything would fall apart.

Lauren was always upset when it happened, but with Adam, she was devastated. She’d managed to convince herself that he would be the exception; that he was going to be everything she’d been waiting for.

That with him, she wouldn’t feel so broken.

And as she drove home the following morning, all she could think about was how she wished she had put it off just a little longer, because she wasn’t ready to let go of Adam yet.

But now that she’d felt it, the palpable emptiness as she gave herself to him, she knew it was over. She couldn’t bring herself to do it again. Lauren had tried that method in the past: giving it time, trying to push past it, to work around it, attempting to make herself feel something other than the void that sex created for her. But it was almost degradin@he didleasig, going through the motions, letting a man do things to her body while her mind and her heart felt completely detached.

Maybe she just needed to accept the fact that she was one of those people who couldn’t become emotionally invested in sex. Maybe she was incapable of bridging the gap between her heart and her body. Maybe this was as good as it was going to get for her.

Lauren might have been able to believe that about herself if she couldn’t still remember what it was like to be with Michael. But she could still call to mind the indescribable feeling: something far beyond just physical sensation. Something that had been so powerful, so completely consuming, it moved her to tears.