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His touch awakened something in me.
A spark, a flame—a deep longing, a primal desire.
Like someone had flipped a switch, igniting a fire that had been dormant. A foreign feeling, yet so familiar. Emotions I’d long ago buried that now demand to be heard and felt. A reality of overwhelming need and deep-seated want. I crave something—but what? I need answers, but they elude me.
Yet the fire continues to beg for more fuel.
I don’t know how to make sense of it. The conflict between what I want and what I thought I wanted is overwhelming. As much as my intellect grapples with that contrast, my heart refuses to let go of its newfound hunger. How can I reconcile these conflicting forces? I search for something to quench the fire, but nothing seems to suffice. Blake is too caring, too considerate. He’s everything I need on a practical level.
Though he refuses to hurt me the way I need it.
There’s a darkness inside of me that yearns for something. But what that something is, I don’t know. And that scares me. All I know is that until I find it, the fire will continue to burn and consume me day after day. I can’t put that burden on Blake—not until I figure this out for myself. I already feel guilty enough for dragging him into the chaos that is my life.
I take a deep breath and focus on the present. But the smell of boiling apple cider that wafts into the living room sends me back into the past.
Decorating, cozy sweaters, and football games filled our days during the magical falls with Dad. One of my fondest memories is of our walks in the woods behind our house, where trees burst with vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds, and looked like a painting come to life. We’d pick apples from the orchard, using them for pies and other tasty treats.
The nostalgia fades as reality crashes back into me. I’m not at home or my apartment, but in Jen’s cozy, yet slightly spooky home. Her family has already decorated for Halloween, filling the living room with fake cobwebs, plastic spiders, and pumpkins. Whimsical decorations, such as skeleton garden gnomes, adorn the lawn.
I find myself drawn to the safe space her home provides.
I rise from the couch and make my way into the kitchen. Little ghosts stand out against the dark wood of the cabinets. Jen is stirring apple cider on the stove and gives me a faint smile as I enter.
“Anything I can do to help?” I ask.
She nods. “After the cider cools a bit, we can start throwing together the dry ingredients. Could you get the butter for me, please?”
I walk over to the fridge and pull out a stick of butter. Jen’s making her ‘infamous’ apple cider donuts for tonight’s gathering. We’re meeting the others from work and some friends at a spot near the outskirts of town for a bonfire—which is just an excuse for people to get wasted.
“I hope this will make enough,” she frets, shutting off the heat as I set the butter on the counter.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, crossing my arms. “First come, first serve. If Nick and Zoey invite too many people, they’ll just have to miss out.”
She walks past me and crouches, opening a lower cabinet. “That’s true! But maybe I should have planned for extras, though.”
I shake my head. “You’re too nice, you know that?”
“N-not really,” she stammers. “I just know how much Nick loves my donuts.” She stands up, clutching a bag of flour. “Maybe a few extra won’t hurt. Better too many than not enough, right?”
I chuckle. “Sure. I guess we’ll find out later.”
I fetch the remaining ingredients and she combines them, humming softly. After washing my hands, I grab an apron from the hook and tie it around my waist. She smiles in gratitude, and I melt the butter in the microwave in preparation for mixing the remaining ingredients.
After piping the batter into the pans, they’re put into the oven and baked. By the time we’re finished, we have two dozen donuts—and only so much time to get ready for the gathering. We stand back to admire our handiwork.
“You think I made too many?” Jen asks, sounding unsure.
I shake my head. “If they don’t want them, I’ll take them instead.”
She giggles, knowing Nick would be over the moon about having so many donuts. After letting them cool, we wrap them in wax paper and place them in paper bags, quickly cleaning up our mess. We then get ready for the gathering and head out in Jen’s car in record time.
During the drive, I can’t help but wonder ifhewill make an appearance.
When we arrive, the gathering is already in full swing. People surround the bonfire, talking and laughing, while music plays from a boombox. I glance over at Jen, who is biting her lip in anticipation as we exit the car.
“Come on,” I say, holding out my hand.
She grins shyly and takes it, holding the bag of donuts with the other. As we weave our way through the crowd, a couple of people from her classes greet her and offer us drinks and snacks. Finding a spot near the fire, we settle in, despite there being more people than I would like. But it’s too late to back out now.
