Hurry Up, Please
I look over at my empty closet and finish folding the last hoodie into the suitcase and stop to take a breath. My heart feels like it’s trying to crawl out of my chest, and I can’t tell if it’s fear or longing or both.
Maybe it’s all of it.
I don’t want to leave. Not really. Not Aiden’s warm hands and soft mouth, or Jake’s intense touches and heated glances. I don’t want to leave behind the arms that still pull me in like I’m something they crave, because I know Zaid won’t. Not like that.
And I hate that I’m even thinking about the lack of intimacy. Because it means Zaid was right. About me. About the way I run to sex instead of dealing with what’s actually wrong.
Then, part of me wants to go. Wants to be alone with him. Because maybe if we’re together again, if he sees me trying, if he hears the way I breathe easier around him than anyone else, maybe he’ll want us again.
Maybe I can show him that I’m okay. Or at least trying to be. Maybe we could fix this.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to live in a house with him again. With his quiet patience, with his eyes that still look at me like I’m made of the stars. I want him. God, I want him. But he doesn’t want me. Not like that. Not anymore.
The truth is, that even if it’s just awkward silences and polite distance and him sleeping down the hall, I’m still looking forward to leaving.
Melview’s heavy with memories now. Arizona was supposed to be a clean slate, a place to start over. Instead, it turned into a collage of pain and mistakes and blurred lines. It got messy fast.
But this? This house in the green somewhere? It’s a real fresh start. No history. No pressure. Just space. And it’s with Zaid.
Zaid, who never talks unless he has something real to say.
Zaid, who listens all the way through and remembers every word I don’t mean to say out loud.
1/4
Hurry Up, Please
He’s the only one I can have long conversations with and not want to run halfway through them, or avoid them altogether.
He makes silence feel full, not empty. Because he’s the only person I’ve ever known who
makes healing feel possible. Even when it hurts. My hands shake slightly as I zip the bag
- up.
Zaid and I haven’t been alone together since the breakup. Since I walked away from him and into Aiden’s arms like a coward. I tell myself I had my reasons. That I was spiraling, that I needed someone. But the truth is simpler, and worse: I was scared, and I wanted to
feel good. I wanted to feel wanted.
A knock at the door makes me jump.
“Yeah?” I call out.
Aiden opens the door halfway, his eyes soft. “Hey. You okay?”
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek.
He steps inside, closing the door gently behind him. “What are you thinking about? You
have a serious frown going on.”
I chuckle out of my nose. “I’m just trying to figure out how I’m going to do all of this with
Zaid.”
Aiden frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know how I’m going to feel, being around him. Living with him. I still…” My voice breaks. I look down at my hands. “I still love him.”
Aiden doesn’t flinch. He walks over and pulls me into a hug, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Of course you do. He does, too. It will all work out.”
I look up at him. “You think so?”
He nods, smiling gently. “And I’ll join you guys right after graduation, okay?”
I press a kiss to his cheek, then another to his lips. “Thank you.”
He nods again and leaves without another word. I take a deep breath, grab my suitcase,
2/4
Hurry Up, Please
and head downstairs.
Their voices reach me before I reach the bottom step.
“I haven’t found one yet,” Zaid is saying, voice clipped. “We’ll figure it out once we get there. She wants somewhere quiet, green. I’ll take her around.”
Jake exhales, a low sound like he’s already tired of this. I round the corner a little, just
enough to see them, while they still don’t see me.
“When you do, send me the details. I’ll handle the money.”
There’s a beat of silence before the shift. The tension sharpens like a blade.
“Just make sure you treat her right,” Jake says, his voice lower now, colder. “She’s been through hell. Take care of her.”
Zaid’s shoulders go rigid. His next words are flat, sharp. “You think I don’t?”
Jake doesn’t answer. Doesn’t need to.
Zaid keeps going, voice harder now, each word hitting like a punch. “You think I haven’t been taking care of her since the beginning? I’m the one who stayed with her. I’m the one who talked her down when no one else even notices she’s spiraling.”
Jake’s jaw flexes, but he stays quiet.
Zaid takes a breath, but it doesn’t calm him. “I’m the only one here who actually gives a damn about her beyond what she does for you. If you really cared, you would’ve shut this whole mess down before it even started.”
Something cracks in me. I can’t listen anymore.
I step into the dining room. The air in there is thick with tension. Both of them look at me, startled.
Zaid recovers first. He walks over and gently pulls the suitcase from my hand. His fingers graze mine for a second too long.
“I’ll be in the car,” he says quietly, without looking me in the eye. Then he’s gone.
3/4
Hurry Up, Please
Jake runs a hand through his hair, then turns to me.
He looks at me like he doesn’t know what to say, or maybe like he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t think he should.
I don’t tell him I heard everything.
Instead, I just walk up to him and wrap my arms around his waist. He exhales, the tension in his shoulders softening for the first time all morning, and he leans down to kiss me. It’s gentle at first, but the moment I respond, the moment my fingers slide into the back of his neck, it deepens fast.
His hands grip my hips, lifting me onto the table like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist. My fingers find his hair, tugging, needing. His mouth is heat and desperation against mine.
He pulls away just enough to breathe, lips brushing mine. “I’m going to find my way back to you,” he says, his voice rough, thick with something I don’t want to name. “Once all this shit is handled. I swear, baby.”
I nod, forehead pressed to his, and whisper, “Hurry up, please.”
That gets a low laugh out of him. He kisses the tip of my nose, one last touch that feels almost innocent compared to everything else. Then he slides me gently off the table, making sure I’m steady on my feet before letting go.
