Why? Why does he have to magically appear in my life? Moving back to Binghamton, I thought about the possibility of maybe running into him, but I thought it unlikely, something that would never really happen.
Boy, was I wrong.
What a sick joke life is playing on me.
Aaron Walters, the boy who broke me into pieces is my neighbor.
I can’t fathom the impact I feel already.
Seeing him in hip-hugging jeans and a tight, plain shirt did a number on me. It kept me up all night as memories of what we used to have flooded my mind.
The way he used to kiss my neck.
The way I felt so protected in his arms.
Too bad his arms couldn’t protect me from his devastating, heart-breaking self.
And hell, he looked good. Too good.
He’s always been tall with handsome features and a chiseled jaw, but now he’s bulked up to the point that I could see his abs flexing under his shirt, the same shirt that stretched over his biceps.
But it wasn’t his muscles or handsome features that once again made my heart ache, it was those eyes. So bright, so blue, so kind, but still so sad. It reminded me of the first day I met him, of the day he stole my heart from every other man on the market.
Broken, unsure, yet yearning for love. It was all there, and like experiencing a moment of déjà vu, I was transported back into a time when I felt invisible, like I could conquer anything with him at my side.
Once again, I was wrong.
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