The End Is Only the Beginning

18. The Reasons Why

18. The Reasons Why

"Aaron," was the first word to leave my mouth.

My mouth was dry, and his name sounded strange on my lips. But there he was, stood in front of me with a busted lip and a black eye, but completely the same.

I wanted to reach out and touch him, to rest my hand on his cheek. I resisted.

"Caleb," Aaron finally spoke up, his voice sounding just as dry as mine had. "Hi."

"Hey."

We stood in silence for a couple more seconds, I swayed on my feet awkwardly and Aaron rubbed his hands together. "What are you actually doing here?" Aaron finally asked, looking at me with those wonderful, hazel eyes.

"I wanted to see how you were, and to apologise for the phone call yesterday."

Aaron nodded, acting as though he understood- as though this was normal. "So...do you want to come in?" he asked, stepping backwards to open his front door – even that look fancy, made of a varnished, dark wood of some sort.

I nodded, no longer trusting my voice.

Aaron and I walked into his apartment and I was instantly taken aback by the environment. I don't know where I had imagined Aaron to live, but this really wasn't it. There was a set of stairs in the hallway; a two-story apartment! The walls were empty bar a few hand-painted portraits. They could have been of famous people, yet I would have been none the wiser.

As I stared around the hallway Aaron cleared his throat.

"Sorry," I replied, quickly giving all of my focus back to him. "How are you?"

Aaron nodded, grimacing a little. "I'm good, thanks. Better than I was yesterday," he spoke softly.

"Does It hurt?" I asked, motioning with my head in the direction of his wounded face.

"Only when I smile," he answered with a soft, forced laugh. "Or blink."

"Shit."

Aaron shrugged his shoulders with an unconvincing chuckle. "Should've known better," he answered calmly, staring at me through a swollen eyelid. "Getting into drunken fights have never been my strong point. I never win," he added.

"You mean this happens often?" He nodded. "Why?"

"Because I needed to feel something."

Silence took over again as I tried to process his words. Aaron stared down at the floor, his eyes seeming to darken, and his breath becoming ragged.

"Where have you been, Aaron?"

He shrugged again. "I was gonna go to Chicago, but I ended up in downtown Manhattan-," which was barely a mile away from his apartment. "A woman bought me a drink, and once I started, I couldn't stop. It's a habit I need to break."

I was about to ask another question when a door slammed upstairs. "Your parents?"

Aaron shook his head, no. At the same time a guy walked down that stairs. He had olive skin, dark hair, and a broad face with defined cheek-bones to match. I think I had seen him in my math class a couple of times.

"What's this?" the unknown guy asked.

"Jorge, meet Caleb. Caleb, Jorge," Aaron introduced. So, this was Aaron's best friend, the one with the twin brother. He'd mentioned him in Florida a couple of times, but he was not what I was expecting from the stories that Aaron had told me. This guy would 100% win a drunken fight.