I was careful to keep to the confines of the guest bedroom the following morning. After everything that had happened the previous night, I wasn't sure if Jake wanted to see me. If he was still angry with me for going through his room, my constant presence wouldn't help matters.

Being alone in Jake's guest room didn't bother me. Our lack of communication during the last few days had made the silence become my norm. My lifestyle before I'd even met Jake was full of solitude. I basked in the loneliness. It was a feeling that brought comfort and normalcy to my world. But I also felt a sense of sadness realizing just how good I was at being by myself.

Fighting with Jake was beginning to take its toll on me. The aperture in our friendship had even begun seeping into my unconsciousness. That night, for the first time in weeks, the fiery nightmares returned.

For hours I tossed and turned, as I was thrown back into the burning building, my mind stuck in a state of limbo as it waited for my inevitable death, or worse, for the inferno to consume Jake. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes during my state of unconsciousness, soaking my pillow with their salty moisture. The comforter was suddenly too thick. I woke drenched in sweat, my heart hammering erratically against my chest.

With a huff, I crawled out of bed and jumped into the shower. It was still early and I was tired from staying up so late, but I knew that I would never be able to get back to sleep. Instead, I allowed the warm water and fragranced suds to cascade over my body and loosen my tensed muscles.

The moment I turned the water off, I heard a soft rasp against the bedroom door. I wrapped my sopping hair in a towel and draped a robe over my wet body, before hurrying from the bathroom.

I opened the bedroom door a crack and saw Jake standing at the threshold. He gave me his signature, crooked half-smile, and the sight sent unwanted butterflies flapping in my stomach.

I cursed internally at the thrill he sent through my body at just his arrival. I was still annoyed with him, and the last thing I wanted to think about was his innate ability to make me smile. Even now, with his dark hair sticking out in every direction, and the smell of alcohol emanating from his skin, he sent my heart aflutter.

I looked deep into his brown eyes, hardly noticing that his face looked worn and sickly. He had heavy bags under his eyes, and his eyes were red and swollen. He was wincing like he has a headache.

Good, I thought to myself. I was glad that he was hungover. His migraine and body aches were just a fraction of the pain I felt waiting all night for him to return home, not knowing if he was alive or dead.

"What do you want, Jake?" I spit.

Jake's smile fell as he detected my bad mood. The words had come out more brusquely than I intended them to, but I was too sleep-deprived to care about his feelings. I was still deciding if I was irritated with him or not.

"I noticed that your light was on, and I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said, rubbing his neck nervously. "I don't remember much about last night, but I remember enough to know that I owe you an apology."

"Yeah, you do," I muttered. Color flooded his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Cat. My behavior was unacceptable," he said, glancing at his feet. "Can we talk? Things have been uncomfortable since, you know, the other night. I was hoping that we could clear the air."

I nodded in agreement. "You're not the only one who needs to apologize. I overstepped my boundaries. I know that now. I shouldn't have been snooping through your things like that. You had every right to get upset."

"Perhaps." Jake shrugged his shoulders. "But I could have reacted better. Or at least explain why I went off of the rails the way that I did. I owe you that much. And I owe you an explanation for what happened the other night, too," he murmured. 

My mind wandered back to our one night stand. My stomach lurched, and I shook my head, as though I could erase what happened. I didn't need those memories in my mind right now. I needed to think straight.

"There's nothing to talk about," I said. "You warned me that you couldn't be what I needed, and I allowed my hormones to control the situation anyway. I knew what might happen, and I let it happen anyway. We are two, consenting adults. What's done is done."

"I owe you an explanation," Jake sighed.

"No, you don't. I got the message loud and clear," I snapped. I really didn't want to have this conversation. It hurt too much to remember the regret in his face after we'd made love. I didn't want to relive that. I didn't think I could relive it.

"Please, Cat. I'm tired of living like we're strangers in the same house, each scrambling to get out of the others' way. We need to talk about this and find a way to get things back to how they were. Can I come inside?"

His brown eyes were pleading. I had to look away to keep from melting from his burning gaze.

"It's your house," I muttered, stepping aside to let him into the room.

I plopped down at the computer desk and folded my legs, resting my chin on the top of my knees as I fought the urge to look at him. I knew if I did, my resolve would soften. I needed to stand strong, no matter what Jake's decision was.

Jake sat down on the edge of the bed and began picking at a string on the comforter. The semblance of a frown line formed between his eyes and his foot was tapping nervously against the hardwood floor. I waited patiently, refusing to be the first one to speak. 

When Jake finally looked up at me, my cold and stony heart thawed. I was startled to see the pain in his eyes, so unwavering and intense that I could almost feel it. Jake was haunted by something in his past, something that aggrieved him beyond belief. 

"A few years ago, my wife and I separated. She and my two children left, and I haven't seen them since," he admitted. "The day they went away, they took a piece of my heart with them. I haven't been whole since, and I'm not sure I ever will be again.

"Losing someone you love changes you permanently. You become a shell of the person who you once were. I'm damaged, Cat. It's the reason why I can't give you all of me- because a part of my heart will always be hers."

I felt the familiar surge of envy course through my body, the same feeling I had experienced when I found the picture in Jake's bedroom. This woman had hurt Jake beyond repair, had damaged him in a way that couldn't be undone. She was the reason he couldn't be open with me. She had ruined his chances of ever finding someone else to love, and I hated her for it. 

"I've tried very hard to fight the urges that I feel when I'm with you, but it has been difficult," Jake continued. "I never meant for things to go as far as they did the other night. There is just something about being in your presence that causes me to lose my inhibitions. I laugh and smile, and feel almost as if I'm not a broken man. But I didn't feel like I was worthy of that happiness, so I pushed you away.

"I hadn't been with another woman since my wife and I were married," he confessed. I felt my cheeks blaze. "You were my first since Elena. I think being with someone else in that way messed with my head. I felt guilty, like I was dishonoring her somehow.

"But I took my confusion and frustration out on you, Cat, and that was wrong. You did nothing to deserve my dismissive behavior, to be hurt just because I was hurting. I shouldn't have treated you that way. I can never express just how sorry I am. I hope you can find a way to forgive me."

Jake couldn't meet my eyes. He continued to pick at the comforter. A thick silence fell over the room as I tried to digest his confession.

My mind drifted back to all of the times Jake would shut down when I tried to talk to him. He was afraid of divulging too much information and allowing himself to be exposed in case he got hurt again. I couldn't blame him for it; I had done the same thing many times since my father left our family.

But meeting Jake had changed me, had made me want to commit to someone for the first time in my life. I trusted him and wanted to know more about him than anyone else. I wanted to tell him about my day, listen to him rant about his job; I wanted to share a life with him, even if only for a little while. It hurt knowing that he didn't want the same from me. 

Though the pain of his rejection still lingered, it was hard to hold on to my anger once I heard Jake's story. Watching how vulnerable he was at that moment, I felt my frustrations start to subside. My shoulders relaxed and, instead of anger, a sense of guilt consumed me.

I felt like such a jerk. Jake was drowning in emotional turmoil over his ex-wife, and I was making it all about me. Poor Cat was asked to leave the guy's room after sex. Poor Cat didn't get to date the man that she liked. I felt like a whiny teenager. Jake had real problems, issues that made my hurt feelings seem petty in comparison.

"Why didn't you tell me that, Jake?" I asked, my words soft. "I would have understood. We all have histories, things in our past that we can't change. If you'd told me, at least then I would have known what you were going through. Maybe I could have helped in some way. I could have given you some space if you weren't ready, instead of throwing myself at you."  

"That's just it, I don't want space from you." He stared into my eyes, his brown irises burning with passion. "I want to be near you constantly. When we're not together, you're always on my mind. It's illogical, I know; we just met. But no matter how much remorse it causes me, no matter how hard I try, I can't get you out of my head."

My eyes widened in surprise. Despite my frustration, I felt my heart flutter with joy at knowing Jake felt the same way about me as what I felt about him. If I hadn't heard the words directly from his mouth, I never would have suspected Jake felt this way about me. He had kept me at arm's length since day one.

Jake sighed. "But my feelings don't change the way things are," he continued. "Even though I feel attracted to you, it wouldn't be fair for me to drag you along knowing that I could never be more than your friend. I'm just like the California wildfires; I'll destroy everything in my wake until there's nothing left. One thing that I've learned in my line of work is that you shouldn't play with fire; it will burn you every time.

"The last thing that I want is to hurt you, Cat. I can't bear the idea that I might decimate what little we have left of our friendship. That's why I have to keep my distance. Please believe me when I say, it's for the best that you stay clear of me, Catalina."

I felt my face heat. I knew that Jake only said this because he thought he was doing what was best, but it infuriated me that he never stopped to ask my opinion on the matter. He was simply making decisions for me without asking what I wanted. I wasn't a child. I had a say in this, too.

"You don't have to protect me, Jake. I'm a thirty-year-old woman. I can take care of myself," I snapped.

I didn't mean to gruff with him, but he couldn't pretend that I wasn't involved in this decision. My mother raised me to be a strong and independent adult. It was a knee jerk reaction to defend myself, especially when it came to men and their ingrained need to shelter women like some damsel in distress. 

"I know you can," Jake said with a lighthearted smile. "I think that's one of the things that attracted me to you in the first place. But that doesn't mean that I'm good for you, Cat. A relationship is something that I just can't give to you right now. It will only result in both of us getting hurt. So I'm making an executive decision, and taking myself out of the picture," he said.

I let out a deep sigh of frustration and pinched the bridge of my nose. I could see the genuineness in Jake's face, and I knew there was no way around his impossible logic. He thought he was helping me by turning me away, but all he was doing was causing me unnecessary pain.

But I wasn't willing to give up on him so easily. The way I felt about Jake was a once in a lifetime sentiment. I would do whatever it took to keep him in my life. If Jake couldn't handle a relationship right now, that was fine. But I wasn't going to let him push me away like this. Not without a fight.

"I'm not sure what it is about you, Jake Lucero, but you have some sort of irrational control over me," I admitted with a sheepish grin. "I never said I was looking for something serious. You think you know me so well, that you just assumed that's what I wanted. But you're wrong," I said.

I enjoyed the surprise that flashed across his face.

"I'm okay with you having no form of obligation to me. I'll do whatever it takes, just so long as we can stop ignoring each other. It's killing me that we're treating one another like contagious pariahs. We can and should be mature adults about this. I just want to be your friend, Jake. Can we start there?"

"Definitely," Jake said with a smile. "I would love to be friends."

I could see the relief on his face, and I felt the tension fading in my shoulders. I hadn't realized what a toll fighting with Jake had put on my body. Things were by no means resolved between me and Jake, but at least now we could have a civilized conversation without wanting to rip each other's heads off.

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© Dawn Norwell