He nodded and turned his head away from me, closing his eyes. I nestled my head down onto his shoulder. His embrace was so inviting, I never wanted this moment to end. Within seconds, sleep washed over us both as we stayed cuddled on the couch.
14
I was jostled awake by Walker’s body moving out from under mine. The feeling of his bare skin shoved my senses awake and I shot up, reaching for my shorts and pulling them back on, hastily. I jumped off the couch to find only Walker’s shirt in sight; quickly, I hauled it over my bare torso. Collapsing on the other end of the couch, holding myself tightly, feeling nauseated, I started to tremble. My mind raced as I fought to make sense of all the flooding emotions coursing through my body. Suddenly, my attention snapped over to Walker as he sat paralyzed, staring at me, his jaw flexing while he pulled his jeans up his thighs.
Replaying our passionate moments sent guilt stabbing into my heart. I felt like a cheater, a whore, and dirty. Anger at my lustful actions and thoughts sugared up into my chest as I heaved and fumed.
“What?” I barked. He just shrugged, his wide eyes fixated on mine. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I stood, trying to blink back the tears, screaming started to escape from my shredding throat. “Oh my God, I am so fucking sorry, Walker!”
I bolted for the stairs, but Walker’s arms wrapped around me, tightly and gently all at the same time. He forcefully pulled my entire body into him as he kissed the top of my hair. His voice was husky, still full of lustful passion. “Please stay. Talk to me.” I spun around to see his green eyes filled with tears, his expression crushed. His shoulders sagged while losing the grip on my torso; his eye contact broke to look out the window.
Anger rushed through my body. I didn’t know if I was madder for what I just instigated, or with Walker for allowing it to happen. “I don’t know what the fuck you want with me, Walker! I am so freaking messed up right now.”
Tears were flowing down my cheeks as he held me in a tight embrace, his eyes deep with sadness, grinding his teeth with frustration. I could see he was just as torn and tormented as I was. I longed to know what he was thinking, feeling, wanting, but he just stood motionless and silent.
“I don’t know what the right thing to do is anymore.” I barely could get the words out through the sobbing and shaking.
Walker’s strong arms picked me up and brought me back over to the couch where he sat me down on his lap. I was just thankful he had fastened his pants back on and I tried to let my body relax. All different emotions were assaulting me; lust, passion, hate, loneliness, disappointment, satisfaction. I didn’t know which one to start dealing with first. I couldn’t help but feel almost dirty, like I was cheating on Randy. Of course, that feeling was ridiculous because you can’t cheat on a dead person, but I just could not shake the feeling of it, or the shame of being another one of Walker’s sluts. At that thought, I felt my stomach churn into knots.
I forcefully shoved myself from Walker’s arms, retreating to the opposite side of the couch. Trembling, holding my knees tightly to my chest, I uncontrollably sobbed, keeping my eyes clenched shut so I would not have to see Walker’s crushed expression. The pain in his face sent daggers into me, further tangling into my thoughts. I wanted to run away and hold him all at the same time.
I tried to start stumbling through all of the different situations that were bothering me. The whore who had just left, missing Randy, being mad at Randy for leaving me, the feeling of being unfaithful, longing for Walker, hating how much I wanted him; all of it was attacking me, I couldn’t sort it out. Everything started to build, boiling up into physical exertion.
The next thing I knew, I was flying across the couch and slapping Walker across the face. The loud smack crackled into the silent room as Walker rubbed his pink, stubble ridden jaw. He narrowed his tear-filled eyes and raised his eyebrow at me. “Okay, you get just one of those, but what the hell, Mags? One minute you’re ripping off my clothes and the next you’re acting like you just shot the pope or something!”
I shot up off the couch, pulling at my hair while pacing around the living room. “This is all just too goddamn much! First of all, you fucking hurt me by even bringing that skank here in the first place! If you want to be with me, you have a pretty messed up way of showing it! Do you even think or care about anyone other than yourself?” I let of a growling scream, collapsing onto the floor, defiantly.
When I finally gained control over myself again, I retreated back to the other side of the couch, staring at Walker’s cold and shallow expression. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned to me, his voice full of pain, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. If I ever thought …” He let the rest of the sentence linger in the air, making the tension that much thicker.
I turned to him, and found myself wrapping my hands over his. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is, Walker.” I let my head fall onto our entwined hands. Taking a deep breath, I made myself say the next words, fighting with my heart as they choked out. “Maybe you should stay at the McManus’ for the next few nights.” I stopped, looking into his eyes, which was a mistake. All of the sorrow and longing in them made me want desperately to take back what I just said, but my better judgment had to win this time and I forced myself to continue. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to live here or that I know how I feel about you. I just need some time to sort through all of this.”
To my surprise, Walker did not protest my request. He promised he would leave me alone, and when I wanted to talk about it, to call him. It didn’t take long for him to pack a few of his things and call Jim to ask if it was alright. That was something that didn’t cross my mind, what my in-laws would think about their house guest returning. I pushed them out of my mind, trying to convince myself my hasty decision of asking Walker for some space was the right move.
Walker sulked over to me when he was about to leave. His muscular arms wrapped around me and I breathed in his musk deeply. Once I was in his arms, I wanted to beg him to stay. Our eyes met, and he lunged for the door quickly, probably knowing what my next words were going to be. With a swift goodbye, he left.
When the door shut, remorse washed over my entire body. Shame had so many more faces than usual; betraying Randy, feeling smutty, kicking Walker out, and longing for his lips again. It was all too much for me to process.
I walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Jack out of my freezer. Opening it, I figured drinking out of the bottle was in order for this situation; a glass would just make me get numb slower.
I went through the motions of the next few days, just self-medicating with alcohol, stupid TV reruns, a book I had read a thousand times, and work. I ignored the calls from Cali, my mother and everyone else who felt the need to check up on me. The only call I answered was from Mitch. I knew he needed me, and we talked for a while about how his shattered family was handling everything.
He and his father had not heard from Eva since she ran away. We both figured it was all for the best. Mitch had been pretty worried about Buck, and decided that it was in both of their best interests if Mitch moved back home for a while. The conversation started to lean in a direction I was not comfortable with, and when Mitch asked how living with Walker was going, I ended the call lying that work was on the other line. I felt like a complete batty loon, coward, idiot, harlot, and many other things all rolled into one.
For the first time, I was excited to be sitting in my therapist’s lobby. I desperately needed advice, or really, someone to make decisions for me. Dr. Davenport was sickeningly cheerful, ushering me in from the waiting room. Her hair was done in bouncy curls and she had a hint of red lipstick on, which made her skin look almost pasty white. She smiled wide at me, taking her regular seat across from me on the couch, daintily crossing her ankles as she opened her note pad to write. She looked up at my blood-shot eyes, forcing her cheery smile to twist into a frown. “Have you been getting enough sleep, Mags?”