His tongue mixes with mine, and my body gives in to him. I kiss him with everything that I have. I take and give him everything that I’ve wanted to in the past eight years. My head moves from right to left, and his hands go from my face to my hair as he steps closer to me. Our chests press together, his tongue fighting with mine over and over again.

I get lost in him, just as I always have. I get lost in the feel of him. I get lost in the love I have for him. “Kallie.” He whispers my name, and that memory of eight years ago flashes again in my mind.

“Jacob.” I blink once, twice, three times. I step out of his touch, and I look at him. “It’s over.”

“What?” he whispers.

“This.” I point at my chest and then at his. “This is over.”

“Never.” He shakes his head.

“It was over the minute you touched her,” I say, and then I look down at the ground and then up again. “It was over the minute you lied to me.”

“I never lied to you,” he says, his voice broken. “Never.”

“It is what it is, Jacob.” My voice comes out monotone, matching my heart. “Please don’t follow me.” I turn to walk away and stop turning. For eight years, I’ve hated him in my head, and for eight years, I dreamed of this moment to confront him. I thought I was going to be stronger, thought I would be a hard ass and demand answers. “For eight years, I’ve thought of this, right here. I thought that you could give me answers. I thought you could tell me, but now I know it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters because in the end you chose her.” I shrug now, keeping the sob at bay. “It would have been magical,” I say. “It would have been everything that I’ve ever dreamed of.”

“What would?” he asks, and I see a tear roll down his cheek.

“Our life.” I take one last look at him, and then I turn to make my way back to my house. I shed all of my tears, or what I feel are all my tears. Walking past the barn, I see that the only light on at Casey’s house is the porch light. I turn to walk toward my parents’ house, and I walk up the five steps to the porch, but instead of going into the house, I kick off my boots and walk to the porch swing. Sitting on the swing, I look off into the darkness of the night. My head hangs forward, suddenly too heavy to hold up.

The door creaks open, and I look over to see my mother coming out. She’s dressed in a white plush robe I sent her last year for Christmas. “Did I wake you?”