Into the Cold

As Caleb finished his last beer, he shook the hands of troopers that had insisted on taking him out for drinks. He’d hoped to be able to spend a few more hours with Amelia, but she’d left the airport as soon as the troopers finished their interview and he'd been too distracted by his former coworkers to stop her.

Stepping into the noisy Anchorage night he tried to take a deep breath, but the stifling air of the city choked him. The noise of cars, the people, all of it was overwhelming. Usually when he came to town he went from the airport to his buyers, then back to the airport motel for a night before his pilot took him back to the Brooks Range, but tonight the troopers had insisted they treat him to a drink.

Now he found himself alone in a city he’d left behind him years ago. Places he’d once frequented were gone, replaced by franchises and chain stores. Hailing a cab, he first gave the driver the name of his motel, but as they drove through downtown, he saw the hotel the troopers had told him Amelia had gone to.

Without thinking it over, he asked the driver to take him there instead. Paying the driver, he stumbled out of the taxi and staggered to the check-in desk.

“Could you please tell me what room Amelia Hamilton is in?” he asked the Innuet woman standing behind the counter.

“Oh,” she replied with a smile, “you must be her fiance. We weren’t expecting you until the morning.”

“Yes,” Caleb lied. “Could you tell me what room Amelia is in?”

“Ms. Hamilton is in the penthouse,” the clerk replied, sliding a key card across the counter to him. “Here’s your key.”

“Thanks,” he said, taking the key and moving towards the elevator.

On the ride up he considered forgetting the whole thing and just going to his motel, but as the elevator door opened he abandoned that train of thought. Almost running, Caleb made his way to the door of Amelia’s room.

Sliding the key into the lock, Caleb quietly slipped into the hotel room. On unsteady feet, he made his way around the sitting room furniture, heading towards the light coming from the bedroom.

Pushing the door open, he saw Amelia standing at the window, looking out at the Anchorage skyline. On silent feet, Caleb moved to stand behind her.

“One more night,” he whispered into her ear. “Please?”

Without a word, Amelia turned into his arms, pulling his lips to hers.

His arms wound around her waist, as he hugged her tightly to him as her fingers entwined themselves into his hair.

“How did you know it was me?” he asked when she finally stopped kissing him.

“I’ve been praying for you to come to me all night,” she sobbed, planting kisses all over his face.

There lovemaking that night was passionate and slow, each wanting to draw out their time together.

Caleb wanted to draw this night out, to make sure there wasn't one inch of Amelia's flesh that he hadn't touched.

From the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair he kissed and licked, caressed and loved, never wanting to forget a single detail of her body.

When they had finally reached their last climax, Caleb pulled her into his arms.

“I love you Amelia,” he said into her hair.

“I love you too Caleb,” she replied, turning her tear streaked face into his embrace.

“I should leave,” he said half an hour later, his eyes getting heavy with sleep.

“Not yet,” she sighed tightening her hold on his waist, “I’m not ready.”

“Amelia,” he said, his voice husky with longing. “If I don’t go now, I’m never going to let you go.”

“I know,” she sobbed, loosening her grasp on him.

As Caleb dressed, Amelia couldn’t keep from crying into his still warm pillow.

“Amelia,” he said, sitting down on the bed next to her, his hand resting on her shaking shoulder.

“Just go,” she sobbed, “please.”

“I will always love you,” he said softly, kissing her cheek.

Closing the door behind him, Caleb heaved a deep sigh.

He wanted nothing more than to go back into that room and never let Amelia go, but she had made her choice, and it wasn’t him.

Exiting the elevator, he blindly walked out of Amelia’s life forever.

Hailing a taxi, he rode silently to his own motel, his sadness and anger vying with each other for control of his soul.

Once in his room, he threw himself on his bed and screamed into the mattress venting his rage until his throat was raw.

The rest of his night was spent trashing his room, breaking everything he could manage to get his hands on. The chair was left in splinters, the lamps shattered and ground into the carpet under his boots, the television had a sizable hole from his foot kicking its screen in.

When his rage was spent, Caleb collapsed onto the gritty carpet and sobbed until he passed out from exhaustion.