Don't Open That Door - GoM 1

3

Alex waited for George to close the bar door and shook her head when he pointed to his car.

"I'd rather walk," she said. "Wanna join me?"

They strolled away in no hurry, hands deep in their pockets and faces behind the collar of their thick jackets. Alex looked for a way to start the conversation she had in mind, but she couldn't find the words. She'd already said it all three months ago. She couldn't explain it any other way without hurting him.

Over the last ten days, Claire hadn't missed a single chance to repeat it.

"I can understand why you didn't hesitate to risk your life in order to save George, 'cause I know you, and I know how you feel. But you can't expect him to be so understanding."

Alex's sigh wouldn't keep the girl from going on. At home, at the bookstore, in the Hilux.

"Save firefighters and the like, people don't go around risking their lives for someone they don't love. What're you gonna tell George? 'Oh, well, you know me: I did it all outta guilt 'cause I don't lover you back.'"

The Corbans still wondered about what had happened after Alex found George seemingly dead, and how it'd ended up with George alive and kicking and Alex flat gone like a veggie. But it didn't matter that night.

Alex kept silent. She accepted to wrap her arm around George's as they walked down the quiet streets together, ignoring the cold.

They reached her house without a single word and stopped by the fence. Alex faced George, her heart drumming in her chest. Holding his amazing blue eyes, she wondered yet again what chemical failure prevented her from falling in love with him. How could she care so much about him and still not want him.

She didn't move when George caressed her face gently and grabbed her chin, taking the only step between them. But he met her eyes for a heartbeat before kissing her and stopped, frowning. Alex felt tears stinging her eyes when he sighed and rested his forehead against hers. She grabbed his lapels so he wouldn't step back. George held her tight.

"Please, forgive me," she murmured with a shaky voice.

"There's nothing to forgive, Al," he whispered by her ear.

"You have everything to forgive me."

He pressed his cheek to her temple, taking a deep breath.

"Why did you do it, Al?"

She knew what he was talking about and looked up at him, shocked.

"Jesus, George! How wouldn't I?"

Alex felt his arms loosen around her. A deep prick of anguish pierced through her. It was the absolute, complete certainty that she was losing him for good. Not like she had a femme fatale side that regretted losing a fan. This feeling was so much deeper. She didn't want to go through that awful moment. She didn't want to see this man she cared so much about slip away before her eyes, leaving a distant stranger in his stead.

Out of instinct, trying to hold on to the man she liked so much, she sought out his lips. He didn't reject her, but pressed her arms softly, asking her to stop. She did.

"I don't need your pity, Al," he said with a tight sad smile.

"Sorry," she muttered at the brink of tears, eyes down.

"Night, Al."

Oh, no, she hadn't only hurt him—again. She'd also shattered the last pieces of George she knew. He wasn't on the defensive to protect his feelings. He hadn't taken offense either. It was something else. This man nodding goodbye at her was a complete stranger, and he was hard as stone inside. She'd lost him. She'd lost him forever. And it was all on her. Because all she'd ever done was hurting him.

Quiet tears rolled down her face as she stood there, watching him walk away in November's chilly wind. Watching the man she'd shared so many good times with walk out of her life. It hurt so damn much. Especially because she had no way to ever make it up to him. Make it up to the figure growing smaller down her street. Until it turned around a corner and disappeared.