As I look at myself in the mirror, I see the water rush down my face. I groan as the sunlight floods in through the window, but I’m happy. I’m happy that I chose the right move.

“Fuck that guy,” Eric texts me.

“Yeah, no shit,” I text back. “I’m about to email the Times to let them know how I feel about their star journalist.”

“I’m sorry, man. I fucked up,” he says. “I should have never gotten involved in something like this. I wanted to honor Katelyn. I want to honor the child you were taking care of too.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” I say.

I feel the emotions rise up into my chest. I just don’t want to think about that winter ever again.

For some reason, I still want the piece to happen. I think talking about what happened might be good for everyone.

I call up Olivia. When she answers, her voice is groggy and tired.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” I say.

I wish I could see her beautiful face right now. I wish I was in bed right now, scooping her ass into my arms.

“It’s so early,” she sighs.

I hear her stretching. I just want to kiss the top of her breasts.

“Let’s get breakfast,” I say. “I miss you.”

“You’re being awfully friendly,” she yawns. “Okay, I’ll go as long as you’re buying.”

“I’ll buy anything for you,” I tell her.

Right now, my heart is fucking swelling up and so is my cock. I was a good boy last night. Now, I want something sweet in return.

“Coming right over,” she says.

I jump in the shower and lean my body against the wall. There’s so many emotions that I feel and I’m not even sure how to calculate all of it.

Up until last night, I didn’t even believe in love anymore. I thought it was a made up concept. I had the idea that it was a little like a Disney movie or something. Beautiful concept, but maybe a little too cliché in theory.

“Love is for idiots,” is what I used to say. Well, then. Call me an idiot, if that’s the case.

I answer the door in a towel, and I’m still half-dripping when she walks in.

“Get some clothes on, naked boy,” she smiles.

I kiss her so passionately that she actually has to pull back and assess the situation.

“What’s going on here?” she asks. “Why are you being so weird right now?”

“I’m just really content,” I say. “No. I’m more than content. I’m excited. I’m happy, and…”

“Content?” She smiles.

“Yes.” I kiss her again.

“So the interview went well? I thought it would. When’s it come out again?” she asks.

“I don’t know if it’s going to happen. Things got a little weird last night,” I say.

I’m not sure if I should just come out and tell her what Dan pulled us into last night. I doubt it’ll make her too happy, even if nothing happened.

“Well, if it does happen to work out, I’ll be the first to read it,” she says. “Anyway, I’m starving. Let’s go somewhere to eat.”

She’s supportive, amazing, beautiful, and just about everything I could have ever asked for in life. Why the hell did I even stand in front of those doors last night?

“I know a good place down the street. We can walk. There are tables outside,” I say.

“Lead me, baby,” she says. I take her hand and do just that.

When she skips ahead of me, I can’t help but stare at her ass as it bounces lightly. It’s like a perfect apple. I’d rather take a bite of her than the food we’re about to eat.

I reach out and grab each cheek lightly, pressing my body against her. I throw my arms around her neck and kiss her cheek.

“You like it. Don’t you?” she asks.

“I don’t think you can walk ahead of me ever again. You look so fucking good,” I tell her.

She blushes and runs ahead, pulling the top of her workout pants down enough to see that she’s wearing a cotton thong.

“My God,” I whisper. “You’re killing me.”

“That’s what I do best,” she says.

The things I could do with that tongue. So many dirty, filthy things. I have to get my mind out of the gutter. Scratch that. I’m never getting my mind out of the gutter with her.

“Here it is.”

We get to the small little shack labeled “The Hideaway,” and we sit down outside. We order a giant cinnamon roll, two egg breakfasts, and coffees.

When the food finally arrives, we dig into our feast among feasts. That first sip of coffee can really get you going.

In between mouthfuls of food, we laugh and our fingers intertwine underneath the table. I just feel so good with her and I don’t ever want this to end up how it did when we were young. Eventually, I muster up the courage to tell her how I feel.

In between a short silence, I just say it.

“I love you.”

It comes out randomly and as soon as I say it, I dive back into my food.

“What did you just say?” She drops her fork into her eggs.

“Nothing.” I shrug and avoid contact.

“Did you just tell me that you love me?” She begins to smile, almost like she’s taunting me.

“No, I didn’t. What’re you talking about?” I ask her.

“You did!” she exclaims. “You just said that you love me! You can’t lie to me about that, Cole.”

I let go of my fork and stare into her eyes. “You have no idea how much I love you,” I say. “I’m afraid to tell you because maybe you’re still mad about the past. I don’t know.”

“I love you too, Cole,” she says.

She’s so innocent, wild, and beautiful. She’s like an angel that somehow made her way from heaven to find me.

We both just stare, smiling. It’s like we have a secret we only know about. It feels so fucking good. It’s hard to describe, but it’s better than this cinnamon roll we’re about dig into.

“Are you scared?” I ask her.

“No,” she says. “Not anymore. And I don’t think you cheated on me back then, either.”

“Wait, a second,” I say. “You don’t?”

“Did you lie to me when we met the second time just so you could see me again? Did you just say sorry because you knew that was the only way into my heart?” she asks.

“What else was I supposed to do? I never saw anybody else back then. All I could think about was you,” I say. “And then that rumor came about, that you cheated on me. It broke my heart.”

“I think we were both duped,” she says.

“I think so too,” I frown. “I just wish we weren’t so stupid.”

“We were in high school, Cole. We didn’t know. We probably believed in crazier things back then,” she says. “But we’re here now. I can’t believe it. We’re together.”

“Yeah,” I say.

“I have to tell you something,” she says, turning suddenly very serious. “Because I don’t want to hold anything back. Not with you.”

“Anything,” I say.

I’m instantly reminded of when we went to the beach the other day. The water took the steam out of our day, yet we didn’t mind.

I feel like I can conquer most days when I’m with Olivia. I feel strong, but whatever she’s going to tell me is going to confuse the life out of me. I just know it.

“Don’t get mad,” she says.

Whenever anyone starts a sentence with those words, you’re most certainly going to get pissed. That’s when I lean forward and keep my eyes steady on her.

She closes her own eyes, and opens her mouth, ready to spill the beans. She says, “I followed you last night… to the strip club. I—”

“Wait,” I interrupt. “You followed me? Seriously? You’re joking…”

She looks guilty, worried, and depressed. I can’t say for sure, but I think she’s thinking, “I should have kept this inside my head.” I stop eating the cinnamon roll and set down my fork.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone, but Sandra was really insistent. She didn’t tell me where we were going. All of a sudden, I’m in a cab next to some Prius. That’s when I realized that she was trying to follow Eric.”

“I’m not an asshole,” I say, heart pumping fast and steady. “And I guess I’m not your boyfriend, either.”

I open my wallet and throw down two twenty-dollar bills. I walk away, toward the busy intersection, while Olivia scrambles to keep up with me.

“Wait! Cole! Come on,” she calls out.

I stop and turn around. To be honest, I’m pretty pissed off.

“What? You don’t trust me. You’ve never trusted me. Hell, when we first met again, you were convinced I cheated on you,” I say. “Let me break this down for you, just so you know. I’ve never cheated on anyone in my life. I may have been a dirt bag at times. I may have broken up with women right out of the gate, taken them home, and said stupid things. But I’ve never broken a promise. That’s not me. I thought you knew me better.”

She grabs my shoulder as I turn back around, ready to walk the whole way home.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I thought I was helping Sandra,” she repeats.

“Not by following me around,” I interrupt. “I don’t want a girlfriend who has to spy on me to get some peace of mind.”

“Cole! Don’t you walk away from this, dammit!” She pleads as I move toward the curb. “You’re too important. We’re too important. Don’t you think?”

“I thought so, yeah,” I mutter. “But now, everything feels tainted.”

The problem is that I’m angry. Yet, I know that deep in my heart, this woman is still the person of my dreams. It’s the weird balance you have to ride sometimes.

I don’t know what the right reaction is right now. Right now, I’m just following that line and hoping I get to something positive at the end of it.

“I was wrong,” she says.

“Very wrong,” I correct her. “I wouldn’t go into a place like that. All I was thinking about was you. That’s it.”

“I know, Cole. I’m sorry,” she says.

“Look, I may have mistrusted you in the beginning, but I quickly got over it. It seems like your distrust comes from something deeper. It’s almost as if you hold onto it for your life, like you can’t shake it. As for me, I don’t need that right now. I need someone who can get past all of the bullshit. I need someone who is going to believe in me,” I say. “I thought that was what love was about. Trust.”

“And honesty. Sometimes you make mistakes. Sometimes you have to come clean and hope the other person forgives you,” she says.

“And sometimes you just have to walk away,” I say.

“Cole!” she yells. But I’m already walking and she knows not to follow me.

“Cole! Please!”

I leave, feeling completely off. I fight the urge to look back, though I ultimately take a short glance. She’s on the curb, tears are streaming down her eyes, and she’s staring right at me. But I keep walking and I hold my head steady, out of fear it might collapse.

Truth is, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m letting my body take me where it wants. It feels like my legs are working through mechanics, like I’m a robot, hell bent on destroying everything around me.

I feel sick, not because she doesn’t trust me now, but because I don’t think she’ll ever trust me. I’ve been with people like that. It’s invasive. It’s non-stop surveillance.

That’s not the life for me. At home, I collapse onto the floor. I clutch at the carpet, pulling out thread after thread. I feel hollow and confused, like I don’t deserve to have anything good.

Afterwards, the guilt and regret starts flooding in. I shouldn’t have left her there alone, but I needed to get my point across. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t truly love and trust me. I just can’t.

But when I see a pair of her panties, strewn across my floor, my heart aches. I grab it and feel the lacy edges of the fabric. I throw it in my hamper and jump into bed.

While my face is against my pillow, I breathe in her scent. I close my eyes and can picture her long, beautiful hair in front of me. I reach out to touch it, but it disappears right before my very eyes.

I open my eyes and feel the choke coming. I’ll never fucking admit this, but that’s when I shed two tears for her.

I’m not the kind of guy who needs a steady relationship. It’s time to reevaluate my life.