Jennie

"Jennie, baby, wake up."

I groan and snuggle into the pillow. "Just let me sleep for five more minutes, Lali, then you can sex me."

She presses her lips to my cheek, and when she speaks again, her tone makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. "Baby, please. I need you to wake up. I have to go."

I blink a couple of times and roll over. Lali is sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. Her expression is pained. "What's going on?"

"It's my brother. Well, it's actually Joy. She went into labor. She's more than a month early, and there are complications. I know we're supposed to fly out together, but he needs me right now."

I'm still half-asleep, so it takes me a few seconds to absorb what she's said. "Is the baby going to be okay? Is Joy?"

"I don't know. It's pretty touch and go. I need to get out there so he has some support. So they all do, just in case."

I scrub a hand over my face, trying to process it all. "Right. He definitely needs you. When will you leave?"

"I have a flight in less than two hours. I have to go now." She keeps skimming my cheek with the back of her hand.

"Now?" I push up on my arms, the weight of her words finally settling.

"I'm sorry, Jennie. I wanted to fly back to Seattle with you." Her expression is pained. "I really don't want to go, but I have to."

"No, no, I get it. Your family needs you—you have to be with them." If it were one of my brothers or sisters, I would do exactly the same thing.

"I'll call, okay? When I get there, I'll call and let you know I landed and how everything is going—so you don't worry."

"Okay. Yes. Please."

"I'm sorry I have to leave." She cups my face in her hands and kisses me, evidently not caring about my sleep breath.

My stomach hollows out when I realize this is goodbye. I thought we had another day—time to talk, to figure things out. I'm not going to see her again. Not anytime soon. Part of me wants to offer to come with her, but it's just prolonging the inevitable.

A desperate, forlorn sound bubbles up as she pulls back, eyes roaming over my face. "I need you one last time."

"Please. Yes." I can already feel the ache in my chest, and she's still here with me. I'm terrified of what it will be like when she's really gone. I shove down the anxiety and focus on the moment.

She pulls my sleep shirt over my head, so it's just a matter of unclasping her belt and unbuttoning her fly. "I'm sorry I can't take care of you the way I want to." Her mouth covers mine again, and her kiss is full of the same desperation I feel.

I climb into her lap while she's still fully dressed and free her from her boxer briefs.

There's no finessing our way through this—it's sheer desperate need driving us as I sink down and cry out from the invasion. Everything is magnified, including the sensation of having her inside me, knowing it's the last time.

I keep our mouths fused, holding her tightly as she moves me over her, slow at first, gentle—but it doesn't last; we grip and cling, teeth clashing, tongues warring, bodies battling as we crash into each other, taking what we both need because we're out of time.

Lali tears her mouth from mine. "I need you to come."

"I'm close," I assure her.

She lifts and lowers me, faster, harder, pushing my body to the limit. The orgasm steals my breath, and I cry out, wishing the sensation were something I could hold on to.

"Jennie." The single word is as much a demand as it is a plea. I open my eyes and focus on her face, on the torment in her eyes, on the regrets I can feel creating a hole in my heart in the form of a love I'll never fully experience apart from these brief weeks.

She comes, eyes on mine, body shaking with her release. She kisses me, hard at first and then softer. Eventually she wraps her arms around me and squeezes tightly, lips pressed against my throat. she murmurs something against my skin that I don't catch.

Fragile moments pass, and her imminent departure looms. Her palms smooth up my back, tangling briefly in my hair before she finally pulls back and exhales an unsteady breath. Her eyes are glassy and sad. "I have to go."

"I know."

"I wanted more time with you."

"Me too. I'll walk you out?"

"That would be good. Let me get you a shirt."

I move off her lap, feeling the absence of her everywhere as we lose our physical connection. She tucks herself back into her pants and crosses to the closet, grabbing one of her shirts that she leaves at the cabin. She helps me into it, fastening a couple of buttons with shaking hands.

"That's good enough—I know you're out of time."

She laces our fingers together, and I follow her down the hall. I slip my feet into a pair of flats and curl into her as we step outside into the near dawn. Dark clouds blanket the sky, a complement to my gloomy mood. Goose bumps rise on my legs and arms, prickling all the way to my scalp. The truck is already running, her duffel in the passenger seat.

She brushes my hair away from my face. "Jennie, I . . ." She shakes her head and presses her lips to mine. "I'll call as soon as I'm in LA."

"Okay."

She pulls me against her, hugging me tightly. She kisses me one last time, a slow, sad goodbye. I'm the one who breaks the kiss first, aware that the longer this takes, the closer I get to losing it in front of her.

She cups my face in her hands. "I have so many things I needed to say to you. Things I wanted to tell you."

I fight back a sob. "It's okay. You can tell me later."

"I miss you already."

I turn my head and kiss her palm. "Me too."

She presses her lips to mine one last time. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Drive careful." I step back as she gets in and closes the door.

I watch as she pulls away. The window rolls down, and she waves before she turns onto the main road. I wait until her taillights disappear before I let the tears fall. And with them comes the first drop of rain.

I stand there, staring at the end of the driveway, feeling very much like I just lost my heart.

By nine a summer storm has set in, complete with lightning and thunder. I'm too sad to be scared as I pack up my things. At noon I lose power and wait for the generator to kick on, but it doesn't. I have candles and flashlights here, so I'm relieved that I don't have to sit in the dark through the storm, but it feels like a bad omen.

At one o'clock in the afternoon, a flash of lightning is followed by a huge crack of thunder. A second boom makes the entire cabin shake and the candles flicker for a moment, and everything goes stark and still. I try to manage the crushing panic, but the sensory calming exercise only makes me think of Lali, and the tears keep falling like the rain. By three o'clock in the afternoon I get antsy, having expected to hear from Lali already. I check the phone, thinking I'm being paranoid until I realize there's no dial tone.

"No, no, no." Without a phone Lali can't call me and tell me she made it safely, that her brother is fine, that Joy and the baby are okay.

And I can't tell her any of the things I planned to today. Like I want to come visit her in New York. Or that I think I'm falling in love with her.

As the next morning arrives, the phone lines finally come back on, but my time in Alaska has run out. And just like that, all my hope vanishes, and my heart breaks.