The Bucketlist

65 | CONFESSIONS: Part 1

"Hello, Miss Scott! Please cancel my flight for tomorrow morning." Will said into the phone as he paced the length of his room.

"Any changes? None. I had a word. I will share the brief via email."

His face dropped as his eyes fell on me, and I flinched a little in the bed. I blinked my eyes twice to make sense of where I was. But mostly, why did my head hurt like it was going to explode? Too many questions, too little knowledge. I sighed.

"Yeah, shift it to the next day. Inform everyone there would be a little delay. I will see what I can do. Thank you." He said, hitting the button on the landline when I stared at him.

My last recognizable memory was of being in Will's arms and telling Will- 'I love you'... I wasn't sure whether it happened or I made that up in a dream. Guess there was only one way to know. I stared at Will, who walked closer to the bed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, taking a seat on the small of the bed. His naked torso turned towards me, and I gasped at the sight. Fuck! How many protein shakes did it take to build that?

"Hot- I mean good. I am good." I said, realizing my head was throbbing with pain.

"Fuck-" I yelled, almost immediately as the pain jolted.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking concerned.

"I need an Advil," I said, looking at him, and he disappeared into another room. No cocky comment? None, at all?

My best bet was that this was Room 142 of Paradise Inn, Seattle. Isn't that the same place I was supposed to meet Will the other night? Such a coincidence that I remembered the exact address (no, it's not. I memorized it to show up on time but didn't).

The bedroom was too big for a single person. Does he always have to go overboard? Or maybe, he wasn't alone! I shuddered at the later part. What if he was here with someone?

"Here," Will said, returning with a glass of water and a tablet.

I take it, muttering a 'thank you'...

Swallowing the pill, I chug the water, looking at Will with a side stare. He sat on the sofa with his legs spread as he moaned on the pillow. What the hell was he doing?

"What are you doing?" I asked, staring at him as he moaned louder.

"Oh God, Eva. Ah! I am going to cum so hard! Ah!" He yelled, and I couldn't help but blush. What the fuck? Is he roleplaying some stupid sex game?

"Will?" I said, touching the side of his shoulder, and he pouted.

"What do you want? Can't you see I am busy?" He said, biting his lip, and I couldn't help but notice his struggle of not smirking.

"What are you busy with?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows together.

"I am busy pretending I have a wife to fuck, love, and sleep with tonight. Thank You. Now go back to your business." He said, pretending to be grumpy.

"You're such a baby, Will!" I said, and he caught me by my arm.

"Ah! Don't you dare give me that tone when you are the one who doesn't even bother showing up?" He said, his jaw clenched as he said the word. His Adam's apple quaked, and I was reminded of the ripples in the shower that day. God. No time for Deja Vu. I let out a sigh.

"I do care. I need time!" I said, accepting the blame.

I knew he needed the time too. He had to make the first move.

"You thought getting drunk was better than meeting me?" He asked, the hurt apparent in his voice.

"I wasn't going bail out! I had a plan that didn't work. Happy?" I asked, plopping on the sofa beside him as his body weight pulled me down, our arms brushed against each other, and I felt the familiar fire burning in me. Fuck. Not the sexual tension.

"You were going to meet me?" He asked, his eyes a little hopeful.

"Yes, after I was completely prepared," I said, gulping the lump in my throat.

"Do you mean what you said?" Will asked, his eyes turning serious.

"Of course, dickhead. I just said I was going to meet you!" I said, irritated. What's with so many stupid questions?

"Not that. In the parking lot. Do you remember?" He asked, and I felt my heart clutch tighter to my chest. The butterflies in the pit of my stomach fluttered. I needed to hold onto something. So I did. I wrapped my hands around Will. His arms supported my back as I lay pressed against his naked torso.

Now's the time. Say it, Eva. Say it.

I let out a sigh as my eyes traced his, and then with a gentle pat on his chest, I said the words.

"I love you, Will...even if you are a lying, arrogant, rude ass jerk. I love you, and I miss you."

Tears run down my cheeks, and I let them flow. My eyes stared into Will's, and I secretly prayed that he doesn't kiss me right now. I will probably taste like alcohol, or worse- vomit. Thankfully, he doesn't.

Will pressed me close to his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat. His arms closed on my back, and the bare of his skin radiated ample warmth to last the entire winter. His fingers brushed through my hair, and like the wind on a dry branch, I heard the most beautiful words in my life.

"I love you, Eva. I love you with your asymmetrical boobs, stupid insights on life, the crazy obsession with love stories, blue eyes, and hate for forever. I love you, Eva, and I miss every damn second you're not eating my brains." He said.

"You do?" I asked, searching for his eyes that dripped like open faucets. Wow. We were superimposable images of a crying mess. I let myself laugh at that, and Will joined me.

"Will-" I said, placing my hands on his cheek as my fingers caressed his face.

He leaned in to kiss me when I put my hand between us.

"Not now. I ain't done talking, and I probably taste like vomit." I said, and he chuckled.

"I have tasted worse." He said. That was no joke.

"Will, you have to tell me everything. That's how it's going to work." I said firmly, and he closed his eyes momentarily.

When he opened his eyes again, he let out a sigh.

"If truth is what's going to make your stay, I will tell you, but-" He stopped, mid-sentence.

"But what, Will?" I asked in an almost whisper.

"No matter what happens, I will always love you... Whether you decide to stay or not. You know that. Don't you?" He said, almost as if he was pleading with me to believe him, and I nodded.

"No more lies?" I said, staring into his eyes.

"No more lies." He said in an affirmation.

"Deal?" I asked a few tears fell.

"Deal." He said, shooting a smile as his fingers wiped the tears off.

"You aren't going to make me sign an NDA, are you?" I asked, and he chuckled.

"Nope. But a kiss would have to be done for now!" He said, touching my lips, and before I could complain about how gross I would feel, I found myself kissing him back as my fingers entwined in his hair. I missed him so bad. I missed us. But was I allowed to miss him when I was the one who left him? Could there be a different forever to our story? Or maybe, no forevers but just a story. Let's face the truth: The problem with our forever is that they are human-borne. In the happy-ending-shit-show of every other love story, we forget how forevers are nothing more than happy ideas. The truth was, we lived on the periphery of so many forevers that we overlooked sorrows. And sorrows are less illusionary than any other idea.