Fear of Falling

desolate, the way they always did whenever certain triggers resurrected his own painful memories. I laid my hand atop his clenched fist and gave it a squeeze. He blinked rapidly and turned to me, his dazzling smile replacing the grimace that had marred his handsome face.
    “So Kam, you call Blaine?” he said, low enough to escape curious ears.
    I shook my head. “I was hoping to see him here.”
    “Well, maybe CJ knows. He just walked in.”
    I looked over in time to see CJ sauntering over, a nervous, tight-lipped grin on his face.
    “Hey, uh, um…” he stuttered. “I just wanted to say, that, um…”
    I held up my hand, halting any further explanation. “It’s all good, CJ. Nothing to worry about. Pull up a chair and join us. Better yet, you can have my seat.” I nudged Dom to let me out, earning a half-frown from him.
    “And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, sliding out of the booth.
    “To do what I should have done a long time ago.”
    Minutes later, I was in Angel’s Lexus Coupe, cruising down the highway towards Blaine’s house. I had to do this before I lost my nerve, and with the sun setting behind me, I was running out of time.
    The squeaky hamster wheel of scenarios in my head drowned out the subdued sounds of The Civil Wars on the stereo system as I tried to prepare myself for the worst. What if he wasn’t alone? What if one of his groupies had already taken my place? What if he was currently losing himself in her in an attempt to forget me?
    The possibilities weren’t enough to get me to turn back. I needed to see it. I knew the scene would be enough to hurt me into never letting myself feel again. I needed that pain to be my constant reminder, to help me return to indifference. I had apparently forgotten about the agony I already harbored, allowing Blaine to take up space in my heart and mind. They had both been destroyed, but somehow Blaine had begun to repair the damage.
    They say that a broken heart never really can be fixed. Yet his touch had sealed the gaping wounds and even filled the tiny fissures that couldn’t be seen. My heart may have not been completely healed, but Blaine had nurtured it with lingering smiles, whispered words and soft kisses. It had been out of order for so long, and over the past weeks, had slowly but surely begun to function again.
    I pulled up to his house, palms sweaty and breath shallow. I could do this. I had to do this. I owed it to Angel for every lonely night she spent longing for someone to love her. I owed it to Dom for all the pain and suffering he had endured at the hands of someone who proclaimed to love him. And I owed it to myself for all for the love I had been too afraid to feel.
    Love. It was the thing that bound us and tore us apart. It was our disease and the remedy of our shattered hearts.
    It was a sonofabitch.
    I counted down from 10 with every step I took towards his front door. I didn’t see his truck, but it could’ve been in the garage. I didn’t know what I walking into, and the uncertainty seized my joints, making me work for every single movement towards my fate. It felt like I was walking the green mile rather than the paved stone path to Blaine’s porch.
    My pressed the doorbell before my brain could talk me out of it. No answer. I hit the button again and waited another 30 seconds. Shit. All that worrying and he wasn’t even there. I shook my head at the absurdity and rummaged through my purse. Then I left a folded piece of paper on his doorstep. At least he’d know I’d been by. And if he had moved on, maybe this would make him think about me. Maybe even enough to not want to forget the memories of our time together that I clung onto like a lifesaver.
    “Kami?”
    I slowly spun around, the air in my lungs abandoning me at the sound of his voice. Blaine stood just feet away from me, shirtless, and dripping wet with sweat. Black athletic shorts and running shoes were the only thing gracing his magnificent body. His tanned skin glistened underneath the setting sun, and his sandy brown hair stuck to his forehead. A single, solitary drop of sweat hung onto one of the longer layers over chocolate-brown eyes that watched me with appreciative surprise. I suddenly grew incredibly thirsty – parched, even—and only that drop would ease my dry throat.
    “Kami?” he repeated, pulling the earbuds from his iPod out of his ears.
    I didn’t realize that I still hadn’t said a word to him, too wholly captivated