"Some things are meant to be," she moaned out, eyes locked on mine. Her hands creep up my chest before fisting the gold chain that holds the symbol of the vows we'd made to one another. "Baby, I love you." Those words and the way she works me over and over has me groaning out in pleasure.

"I love you too." She grabs her tits, pinching her nipples as she tosses her head back. "You're so fucking beautiful, Mon." I bring my hands to her hips and make her work a little faster on me, needing the quicker pace.

I revel in the feeling of her continuous motions. She's working me up to oblivion and she knows it. I want to come in her so fucking bad but then that empty feeling sets in the pit of my stomach as I say, "I need to come, Mon. I shouldn't do it inside—" Her lips smother mine.

I'm about to shove her off of me because I feel like I'm going to shoot spigots but she takes my hands off of her hips. She threads her fingers with mine before putting them above my head. Her lips break away from me and her emerald depths stare into mine. Her gaze is coaxing my orgasm as is her rough but sensual pace.

"Monica, baby," she rocks harder, making my orgasm push through me even though I'm trying so hard not to let it. "Fuck, baby, fuuuuuck!" I come inside of her and I come hard. I see blackness. I see stars. I see nothingness as my ears start to ring. This is one of the best orgasms I've ever had. When I come down from my high, she's breathless and beautiful, sprawled out across my chest.

I wrap my arms around her small frame as she catches her breath. My nose nuzzles the top of her hair, taking in her fragrance deeply. She smells like lavender and mint, I adore the mixture because it's hers. It's her scent.

After an eternity of us lying like that, all wrapped up in one another, she shifts out of my arms. She rolls off to the side of me, lying flat on her back, staring at the ceiling. She looks completely sated but she also looks a little lost.

I cock and elbow behind my head, "Penny for your thoughts, Cherry."

"The semester starts in a few weeks."

Not even a fucking five minute intermission. Guess it's better this way. I look away from her, up at the ceiling, like she's doing. I'd rather not have this conversation eye to eye either.

"You going abroad?"

"Yeah. My application has already been accepted." She didn't even tell me that before. "Which means I'm going to be gone for a few months."

"Nearly half a year," I corrected. "And I'll be in Vegas."

"You will be." She reaches down and threads her fingers with mine and I've never hated a ceiling as much as I hate the one I'm staring at. "We'll figure out a way to make it work."

"Oh, well, that's a fucking relief to hear." I feel her tense next to me at my angry tone. I tear my hand out of hers and roll off the side of the bed. I go over to my underwear and put them on, not looking at her as I spit out, "if you just want to move on— then move on. There's no need to figure anything out. It's not that complicated."

"I'm not saying I want to move on, Boston. That's not what this is." She can say that but part of it is, even if she doesn't want to acknowledge that fact. "Boston—"

I don't say anything as I slip on the rest of my clothing, including my shoes. I hear her getting off of the bed, scurrying around to put her clothing on as well. I throw on my jacket and check the pocket for my cigarettes. I'd picked up the habit again, not being able to cope with the stress between us in an entirely healthy way.

When I reach the door she asks, "where are you going?"

"Out for a smoke."

"Don't do this." My back is toward her, making her voice barely audible but I'd heard it regardless. "Don't shut me out."

"Don't shut you out?!" I turn and face her incredulously. "You think I'm the one pushing you away? I'm the one shutting you out?" I let out a sardonic laugh at that. "That's some fucking bullshit considering you're the one traveling overseas to get the fuck away from this, me." She looks hurt but I don't care because I'm not going to have this whole thing put on me.

"I'm not trying to get away from you. I just want to do something on my own. Experience my own adventure. What's wrong with that?" I shake my head because it's not just that and I know it.

"Stop lying to me and to yourself."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean stop fucking saying that you don't want to get away from me because you're scared of everything that's happened between us. Like you said. You're scared. You're angry. You're mad. You're all of the bad things with me right now. I'm not saying you're not allowed to be but for fuck's sake see things for what they are. This is you trying to get distance!"

Tears fill her eyes, "I feel like I don't even know who you are right now." That's because we've never fought.

"Monica, you know me."

She turns away from me, "but I don't. I know the man you wanted me to see originally, Boston. All the impulse. All the fun. All the risk. But never the reason why until recently."

"Until a month ago, Monica. It's been an entire month."

"I know but you didn't tell me the other stuff."

"It's been an entire month. For fuck's sake. What do you want me to say? I've apologized. I've said I wished you never met me. I don't know what you want! I don't know what you're looking for!"

"I don't know. I just—"

"Listen, I may not be a guy you see your fucking dream future with but I love you. I know maybe it's hard to see it right now but I am more than just my disease." I tear my hand through my hair angrily. "I'm more than this!" I pound my chest with my fist, eyes piercing her angrily when she turns back around to face me. "If you're saying that you can't love me because of the stupid thing that beats in my chest, because I don't wish this on anyone else, especially my children, then I don't know what to tell you. You don't have to love me anymore."

"Don't you dare say that, Boston." Her eyes blaze with moisture.

"What? You don't have to feel guilty about it. People fall out of love all the time. It happens. You don't want to be in love with me anymore? Then you don't have to be."

"Don't you dare say that I don't want to be in love with you anymore! I have loved you since the moment I met you! I have trusted you more than—" she chokes back a noise before continuing in a weaker, mournful voice, "more than anyone. I have given you all of my firsts. I gave them to you because I wanted to, Boston. I wanted you to give me the future you knew I wanted. You knew that's what I wanted and I chose you to be the one!" Tears of frustration and sadness come out of her in waves as she wraps her arms around herself. "You didn't even tell me where I was putting my faith, my future, before taking it all away from me; knowingly."

Fuck. I fucking hate myself.

My heart might just give out right here and now watching her cling to herself for dear life. I go to step forward but she holds out a hand, stopping me.

"Monica, I should've told you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry but I don't know what else you want me to say that I haven't already said. You want me to take all the blame then fine." I throw up my hands in surrender. "It's all my fault."

"No, it's both of our faults. I'm the one who listened. I'm the one who went along with you. I'm the one who said we should make the marriage legitimate." She wipes the tears from her eyes. "They were all my choices. All my choices because I wanted to be with you. I wanted you."

Wanted. Because she wanted me.

After a moment of her crying and staring at the floor I can't help but ask, "do you not want me anymore, then?" She's quiet, fingers digging into her elbows and tears spring to my eyes. "You don't want this, us anymore?"

Me. Do you not want me?

"I don't know." My heart constricts and cracks and pulls inside of my chest in the worst of ways, ways like it never has. "I don't know what I want anymore. I had known for so long what I wanted. I knew what my life was going to be and then— Jesus, I'm fucking nineteen years old and I—" Her breathing starts picking up rapidly, too rapidly. She's panicking. "I'm nineteen. And and and..." her arms wrap tighter around her middle as she begins to shake. "I'm married. I'm married to a man who might die. Who doesn't want to have kids with me. Who— who—" The sob that tears out of her chest is the worst sound I've ever heard. I can't help but go over and wrap my arms around her, even though I know she doesn't want them around her.

"Do you," I hate myself for what I'm going to suggest, "you, uhm, want to," I swallow the massive lump in my throat trying to find the right words. "Maybe we should take a break for a bit? Take some time to evaluate what we really want." I don't need time. I know I want her. But I don't think I can give her what she wants and needs in the future.

Monica answers me with cries and I know what that means because if anyone knows her it's me, her defective husband. Her selfish husband who made her a wife without even letting her know what she was walking into. Never even told her that the future she had been planning in her head for so long would never happen with me.

After a few minutes she finally speaks into my chest, breaking her cries,"this is breaking my heart," another weeping noise before, "it hurts too much. This hurts too much to think of letting you go. I can't..."

"I know, baby, I know." I've never been in so much pain in my entire life and I've had my chest physically cut through and pried open. "Maybe just while you're away for the semester? A break?"

"Just while I'm away?" I nod at her. "Then maybe we can see if we still want different things?"

"Yeah," I push the hair out of her face, "maybe we'll see we can't live without each other."

"And if we don't?" Her hand immediately goes to her neck, to her ring.

"One step at a time, alright?"

"One step at a time."

A/N:
Sooo that just happened.