I can taste Graham’s salty cum on my lips and tongue.

And, he just asked me to leave. After everything.

I’m numb with shock. “You want me to … leave?” I repeat, even though I don’t want him to say it again.

He nods, his broad, muscular, beautiful back to me, his head bowed while he holds on to the sink like he’s the one who’s had his legs cut out from underneath him.

Seeing that unclogs the blockage of patience and love that have kept a lid on the anger and frustration that’s been festering for years now.

“You fucking asshole!” I scream at his back.

He whips around, his eyes wide with shock. “Apollo …” he chokes out.

“What? Did you think I was going to thank you, Graham? You think I was gonna say, ‘Oh, yes, I’ll leave.’” I flap my hands in the air like the pathetic, wounded animal he must think I am.

“I’ve walked around for years. Mooning over you. Waiting for you to see me. Waiting for you to stop making excuses and finally want me.”

“Apollo,” he interrupts and takes a step toward me.

“You’ve said enough.” I need out of this bathroom. I fling the door open and step back into his bedroom.

He hurries out after me. “Please, wait. It’s not that …”

“It’s not what? You said a lot of shit in the cab tonight. And just like London, they were just lies.” My voice breaks on the last word and tears spill from my eyes, and I feel like my heart is bleeding as I sob, unable to stop it.

He walks toward me. “Please … stop. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. I shouldn’t have done what I just did. I was drunk. I thought …”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” he says angrily, his teeth clenched.

My heart sinks. What have I done?

I run my hands through my hair and then cover my face with my hands.

I can’t fucking take this. I scream. The sound is muffled by my hands, but in my own ears, it resounds like an alarm.

Graham’s arms come around me, and my scream turns into a sob. His attempt at comfort feels like a dagger slashing at me. I don’t understand why I love him when I can’t have him. I push out of his embrace with a shove.

I spin around the room looking for my clothes. I look down at myself and feel a flush of shame at my nudity and what I just did. I am such a fool.

“Graham. I’m so sorry that I touched you like that. I thought … I thought you wanted …”

I can’t see through the tears streaming down my face, but Graham takes my hand and guides me back to the bed. I don’t offer any resistance. I feel drained. My emotions have gone from rage to gut-wrenching sadness in the span of a few minutes.

I’d bargained—thrown a Hail Mary—and I’d come up short.

Graham sits down beside me. I can’t bring myself to look at him.

“Apollo. I’m trying to protect you,” he says as if that explains everything. I turn to look at him. My eyes are full of fire as I take in his tortured expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re protecting me. I can take care of myself. You just want to continue whatever the hell you’re doing. You and that creepy woman who you clearly can’t stand but who you spend more time with than you do anyone else. Who is she really? Do you sleep with her?” I ask, and I watch him closely.

“She’s my agent. I’ve told you,” he says without looking at me.

“What kind of agent touches you like she owns your body?”

“Why are you doing this?” he growls and pushes off the bed.

“Doing what? Asking questions? Because we’re friends, remember?” My voice is heavy with sarcasm. “Well, we were. Before you decided to destroy that.”

His face drains of blood. “I’m not destroying our friendship. I’m trying to save it,” he says in a whisper and then stands and starts pacing.

I get up, too. “Are you serious? You think we can go back to the way we were after the way you’ve behaved over the last nine months? You broke every promise you made. And after last night? Do you really think I could be your friend after you let me walk into that restaurant and be blindsided by you and your girlfriend or whatever the fuck she is?” I shout at him, unable to hide my surprise. I walk over to the bathroom and pick up my discarded clothes.

“She’s not my girlfriend. She’s my agent. And everything I do with and for her is for money. But that doesn’t mean our friendship is over. It can’t be,” he says, and I stop to look at him.

“Why do you even care? You have your mom. You have your famous friends and you Instagram harem. You have Nanette. You’re about to skyrocket into another stratosphere. I get it.”

“It’s not like that, I just need time …”

I stare at him. My eyes feel like they are going to pop out of their sockets.

“Are you actually repeating that line again? On what planet do you think I’d ever believe a word you said? You want me to wait for you? To sit on a shelf while you fuck your brains out? No fucking way.”

I pull my dress over my head and scan the room for my shoes. I need to get out of here.

He stalks over to me, stops a few steps away from me and looks down at me with his most severe frown. “You think I like what I do? That I’m happy about the path my life has taken?”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Of course, you like it. Who wouldn’t?” I can’t believe what he’s saying.

He throws his head back and growls in frustration, his fists are in balls at his side. “You don’t understand. And I can’t explain it …”

“I don’t need you to explain. You have shown me everything. Your message is crystal clear. You don’t want to fuck me because—”

He stalks toward me and grabs me by the shoulders. He drops his head down so we’re eye level. “I don’t fuck people I like, and I don’t like the people I fuck.”

His eyes widen in horror the same time as mine do. He lets go of my shoulders and steps away.

My stomach sinks as I replay what he just said. I can’t make sense of it, or the dread they fill me with. “What does that mean?” I whisper. I stare at him, and I see something in his eyes that terrifies me and breaks my heart.

“Forget I said that.” He turns his back on me.

“Graham, what aren’t you telling me?” I grab his arm, and he doesn’t turn around. I walk to stand in front of him. He keeps his eyes firmly on the ground.

“Apollo, drop it,” he says quietly. A very cold tingle runs down my spine. Something is wrong.

“Graham, look at me.” I plead. He shakes his head no and the tingle spreads to my chest. “Please, you can trust me. You don’t have to deal with whatever it is alone.” I place a gentle hand on the center of his chest.

He steps back from my touch, turns his tormented eyes away from me and starts to pace the small studio apartment.

“I can’t. And I may never be able to. I’m sorry.” He stops pacing and faces me. His shoulders are slumped, his expression defeated.

I feel sadder than I can remember feeling in a very long time as I look at him. Close enough that I could reach out and touch him, yet we’ve never been farther apart.

“Why did you say all of those things in the cab?” I ask him quietly but let him hear the accusation in my voice. Yesterday he sent my hopes soaring, and now, he’s clipped their wings and sent them into a free fall.

He walks over and sits down on the bed. He slumps over, his arms resting on his thighs, his hands hanging between his knees, his head bent low.

“Because it’s the truth,” he says quietly.

“Then why are you letting me walk away?” I demand. Confusion, fear, anger, and hurt all whirl around inside me, leaving me breathless.

“Because I can’t do anything about it, Apollo. I can’t give you what you’re asking. Not now.” He runs his hand through his hair as he speaks and I’m sad that I won’t touch that beautiful head of hair again after today.

The first hint of dawn comes streaming through the windows of his apartment and bathes him in a reverent light. But it’s a mirage. The dark is winning. I’m losing him.

I walk toward him. With each step I take, I resign myself to the fact that this is the end.

He turns when I’m just a few feet away, and his posture straightens.

By the time we’re toe to toe, his entire body is taut, and his expression is determined.

I rise up on the very tips of my toes, and I cup his jaw. He closes his eyes as if it hurts, but he strokes his chin across my palm and sighs … like he’s relieved. I stroke the silky hair of his short beard before I fan my fingers on his cheeks. I study his face, admire all the things about it that I’ve always loved.

His eyes are stormy gray pools of memories and feelings. In them, I see my entire youth. I try to see more, but there’s nothing there. No future. Not even the present.

His warm hands close over my mine and then he whispers my name.

I inhale the breath from his words and use it to exhale my own.

“I love you,” I murmur as my fingers glide into his hair.

He groans and slides his hands around my waist and draws us together.

I go willingly, and my body melts into his. His erection molds itself against the yielding flesh of my stomach.

That first delicious quiver of desire spreads and blooms into a flurry of need that grips my entire body. I press closer to him, trying desperately to erase the distance between us and pretend that this moment isn’t, in fact, a eulogy.

My eyes flutter closed as I caress the round curve of his skull before I cradle it in my hands. I savor the soft feathery slide of his hair through my fingers and inhale the lingering scent of ginger from his shampoo.

“I love you, too,” he says softly. His voice is heavy with regret that when I lick my lower lip, I can taste the residue of it.

And then, his lips sweep across mine. The touch is light as gossamer, as fragile as the strands of a spider’s web. Yet it shakes me to my very core.

“Open your eyes, Sunshine.” Graham's voice wafts over me, and I shake my head. If I open my eyes, this will end, and I’m not ready.

“Please,” he asks in a voice I have never been able to resist.

I open my eyes to find his stardust gray eyes wet with unshed tears.

“I’ve never kissed anyone, Apollo,” he says before he lowers his mouth back to mine. Our eyes stay fixed on each other, and I can see the truth in his. He’s letting me go.

My heart thumps in my chest, and I whimper when our lips meet in another gentle kiss.

“I’ve never loved anyone.” He takes my top lip between his. He sucks it gently, and I hate him so much for doing this to us. Even now, when everything is broken, when he’s shaking the very foundation my hopes are built on, all I want is for him to choose me.

We feel so good together. So right.

Squandering this feels like sinning.

He drags his lips across my cheek and presses them to my ear.

“I’m saving everything I can for you. And I’m sorry, so fucking sorry,” he whispers and then rubs his face into my hair.

“You’re my oxygen,” he murmurs before his lips come back to mine. His strong, warm hand is tender when it cups the nape of my neck. His other hand tightens around my waist, his fingers grasping and pulling me closer. I place my hands on either side of his and then everything else falls away.

I’ve imagined this kiss. I thought I was prepared for it. But now I know that the myths, the sonnets, the odes to kisses have all been flimsy, feeble, failed attempts to describe the indescribable.

There are no words for the exquisite, explosive moment your lips touch those of the person who is the keeper of your heart.

This is a glorious exhibition of years of wanting.

This is a dormant dream, refusing to be deferred for one more second.

It erupts, disrupts, and gives life to all of my secret, unspoken wishes.

My lips absorb the imprint of his.

Nothing short of his kiss will ever be enough. Not for as long as I live.

When his tongue slides against mine, I tremble and open to him.

It feels like falling off the edge of a cliff.

I would die for Graham to belong to me and me alone. The way I know I’ll always belong to him.

I would wait forever for him.

I would walk through fire.

I would scale mountains and swim oceans. I would let him take everything he needed from me, and then give him more until I had nothing left.

Once upon a time, he had been my compass.

My star.

But, I can’t do this anymore. Not for one more day.

Loving Graham is killing me.

Slowly.

Softly.

Surely.

This time, though, as I fly off the side of the cliff, I know I’ll have to save myself.

Slowly, with an aching reluctance and gnawing regret, my hands slip from his hair. My lips, having had what they want, must now yield to what I need.

I break our kiss and almost choke on the burning ball of woe in my chest when his hands clutch at me as I pull out of his grasp. I stare at the ground while I try to catch my breath. In my periphery, I can see his hands clenching and relaxing repeatedly.

“I’ve had enough. I’m leaving,” I say wearily. I stuff my feet into my flats and then bend to tie them.

He grabs my arms, but I can’t look at him.

“I know you can’t understand. I know you’re angry at me. You should be. But, I need you, Apollo. Believe it or not, I am yours. And, you can’t give me back.” His voice breaks and my will cracks. “Don’t leave … please.” The ache in his voice feels like salt in my wound. The sting of it snuffs out the lingering intoxication from our kiss.

I raise burning eyes to him. “This is all your fault!” I shout at him.

He takes a step back, his face pales. I count to five in my head and speak in a quieter voice.

“I’ve waited for you. You asked me to, and then you just decide you’d rather be a playboy or something?” I say in disgust.

“Apollo, it’s not that. I’ve just had a lot … it’s been fucking hard.” He stares at the floor and shakes his head as if I wouldn’t understand. How can I? He won’t tell me anything.

“You’re not the only one who’s had a hard time, Graham.”

He lifts his head slowly, his expression stony.

I shiver when he drags his cold, hard granite gaze over me. His eyes are more deliberate when they lingers on the delicate spray of diamonds that float on the delicate gold chains around my neck.

“You look just fine to me,” he says. His eyebrows are raised as if he’s daring me to prove him wrong.

My hackles rise.

“What?” I demand, raising my eyebrows in return. “Because I have money, I’m not allowed to have problems?” I curl my lip in disgust. “Fuck, I don’t even really have money. It’s my father’s money. And I get an allowance. And if I want more, I have to live a life I don’t want. For years.” My frustration and resentment bubble in my chest.

“No amount of money is worth giving up my dreams for. Life is short. You don’t get a second chance. I have dreams—I want to chase them. I want quiet. I want art and long walks in the park. I want to travel and learn. I want to gaze at the stars. I want to fucking read with my best friend.” My heart aches and I have to bite my lip to keep it from trembling.

Graham just watches me, his expression not softening as I try not to fall apart. “Yeah, Apollo, I know you’ve had some personal issues and that your rich Pollyanna life is hell on earth because you’d rather be traipsing in a park or lying in a hammock on the beach.”

I recoil at the scorn dripping from his voice, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“You think I don’t wish I could have made different choices?” He shakes his head in disgust—whether it’s at me or life, I can’t tell. “Yeah, your dad is dead. So’s mine. At least yours left you with money, comfort, security. All mine left was an abusive stepfather and sick mother.”

“This isn’t about who has it worse,” I groan. “It’s about living our lives and being true to ourselves. And you’ve changed.” I swallow hard, and then I can’t hold his eyes anymore.

“I have no—”

“You have. You went to college and majored in education. You wanted to be a teacher. Now you’re a personal trainer. And you’ve got Nanette. And your stupid Four Horsemen thing with your friends at the Polo Club.”

He flinches, but his gaze turns cold. “Wow, I didn’t realize you thought so little of me,” he says stonily.

“I didn’t—”

“So what if I like that I’m not invisible anymore? Is it so bad that people see me? I’m sorry you can’t handle it,” he shouts.

Graham’s words are barbed in a resentment I’ve never heard from him before. My chest tightens as the chasm between us widens. And, in the place where we used to be, there are shards of glass that will never be part of a whole again.

I walk over to him and put my hand on his arm. He looks down at me, his eyes smoldering with indignation.

“Forget me. What about you?” I stare beseechingly at him. “I hate to see you turn your back on your dreams.”

“I’m not,” he bites out through clenched teeth, the muscle in his jaw jumping.

“You had bigger dreams than being Instagram famous. But that’s all you seem to care about. Well, that and Nanette.”

He walks past me to the door. “You know what? I’m sorry my dreams aren’t lofty enough for you. I’m sorry you’re jealous of Nanette. I’m sorry I’m not the poor boy you can treat like a charity case.” He flings these words at me like a rubber band. They bite, wound, and stun me.

Is that what he thinks? Before I can ask, he yanks the door open. My eyes widen in shock. “Are you really kicking me out?”

“If you’re willing to throw our friendship away because I can’t fuck you right now, then go ahead.” He jerks his thumb toward the now open door. “Then, yes. I am. Leave.”

His words have the effect of an openhanded slap in the face.

I blink to clear my vision and stare at him, dazed and so hurt.

“Do you not know me at all? You think I’m mad that you won’t fuck me? You think that’s why I’m leaving?” I ask him incredulously.

My heart feels like it’s been yanked from its foundation and smashed to a thousand pieces. Still, I can only think one thing. “I love …” I stop to inhale a shuddering breath to bolster my shaky voice.

“I love you,” I manage.

His eyes squeeze shut as if looking at me is painful.

I forge ahead. “I’m leaving because I can’t stand that you don’t love me back.”

He scoffs, dismissing my words and me with that single, casual breath.

“If that’s what you really think, then you don’t know me,” he says without any emotion.

I nod and fight like hell to keep my lip from trembling.

Not one more tear.

I hold my chin up and avoid his eyes as I approach.

“The universe is calling,” I say with a bravado I don’t feel as I step through the door he’s holding open.

Graham laughs. It’s bitter and ugly and strains the already unraveling thread on my resolve to not shed one more tear for him. Not ever again. He didn’t deserve them.

“Sure, yeah. Go answer her call. Maybe one day, I can too,” he says bitterly.

“One day, like the one day you talked about in London? You never learn your lessons, Graham. But, I do. I’ll never believe a word you say again,” I say and let my disdain color every word.

The last thing I see before he shuts the door in my face is Graham’s thunderous gaze. I stand and stare at it for a minute before I find the strength to walk away.

Tante Isabel always said, “People who love each other are never without each other. Even if they’re not in the same place physically.” She says that to me whenever I cry for the people I’ve lost. And it usually comforts me. Even though it’s not true.

My sister is gone.

My father is gone.

My mother … might as well be.

Now, Graham is gone, too.

I lick my lips and taste him there. I can’t stop the tears that start from a well of disappointment deep inside of me and spill down my face. But as I walk away from the love of my life, I promise myself these will be the last tears I shed for him. I’m done.