Chapter 51
My resolve is crumbling.
I had every intention of coming here and being angry with Tanner for what he did all those months ago, but as the warm water cascaded over my body, the scent of his pine and aftershave lingering in the steam-filled air, I realized a few different things.
Tanner may not be perfect, but neither am I. There’s clearly so many things left unsaid that need to be out in the open if either one of us plans to move on, but it’s not solely his fault or mine. I should’ve communicated what I meant when I said I couldn’t love him in the way he deserved, and he should’ve checked his patience. I should’ve still found time to explain what I meant, but I’d been so trapped in my thoughts and own personal fears of being abandoned yet again that I shoved him away without giving him a chance to talk the problem out with me.
I’ve also realized that in some ways, he will always love me more openly than I will him, and that’s not because I’m ashamed or embarrassed of him or us, but because vulnerability is uncomfortable for me. My love for the people in my life fills my entire heart, but I show it in different ways, like being attentive and focused on conversations the person is engrossed in, helping solve problems or supporting them as they figure out their own solutions, cleaning or doing random gestures around the home that maybe they’d been too busy to do, things like that. Quality time is important to me, which is why I enjoy spending one-on-one time with Tanner in one of our retrospective apartments. He’s done more of the taking care of me part, but I know that if he and I were ever to work out—which we’re not going to because that wasn’t my intention in coming over—I’d try being more open for him. It may take time, but I’d try.
Why are you talking like you’re going to get back together with him? Stop it!
I push the thoughts away, shaking my head once as I step out of the bathroom. He gave me a pair of sweats and a shirt I drown in based on sheer size, and when I emerge from the living room, he’s buried in his phone, leaning against the kitchen island texting. He doesn’t notice me yet, too engrossed in whatever he’s typing, and my stomach does weird things, flipping everywhere and uneasy. It hasn’t been too long since I’ve gone without him, only a little over three months, but my heart aches like it’s been longer. This fight, this lack of communication, was so stupid and I’m mad at myself for a variety of reasons that I want to just spout out so we can figure out what we’re doing. I don’t expect him to want to be with me anymore, nor does it bother me because we just aren’t meant to be. It hurts, but after tonight, I’ll be willing to let things go.
I catch him at the same time he catches me, gaze lifting from under his lashes, slowly roaming me from head to toe. Heat floods against my neck and is warm on my face, and the smallest of grins tugs on his mouth. Something about it makes my heart lurch; the pulse in my neck beats faster, but I don’t pull away from his gaze. Won’t, mainly because if this is the last time we’re going to be in this space together, I want to make it count.
“You hungry?” he asks, his voice filling with a hoarseness that hits straight to my core, and I shrug, bobbing my head from side to side. “No, I have food at home.”
His brows rise slowly, and his gaze drags from my body towards the window in his living room. I follow, catching the white flecks filling the sky.
“Yeah, you’re not going home tonight,” he says, which causes me to whip my head to him. “It’s too unsafe.”
“Uh,” I say, glancing over to the window from my place once more. “Pretty sure you don’t get to decide that for me.”
“Normally, I’d agree,” he says, setting his phone on the counter. “But I refuse to let you walk out of here and back home in the storm, and even more than that, I’m not driving to risk us getting into an accident or stuck. I’ve already fucked up one, I don’t need to permanently lose you.”
My eyebrows pinch together, silently agreeing that we probably shouldn’t be driving despite not wanting to stay here longer than necessary, but it’s what he said at the end that makes my stomach. “What do you mean, you’ve already fucked up once?”
I’m baiting him only kind of, but he knows. Knows, and shakes his head, a dry chuckle escaping from him as he runs a hand through damp hair. He tilts his head curiously, eyes narrowing slightly as he watches me with a fervor I feel burning me from the inside out. “Are we doing this?”
I watch him with the same intensity, the anticipation already jolting through my body. “I don’t know,” I challenge. “Are we?”
He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, the air thickening around us as he drops his head to look at the flickering light on his phone, pulling his gaze to look out the window again before back at me. “I’m not sure what you want me to say,” he admits quietly. “I don’t know how to do this with you.”
A beat. “Do what?”
He gestures between us. “Whatever this awkward shit is,” he says. “I want to be able to talk to you, not feel like I have to be careful with what I’m going to say.”
I frown. “You shouldn’t feel that way with me, Tanner.”
He runs his hand through his hair again. “Yeah, well. You’ve always found some way to push me away.”
“I know,” I say a bit hesitantly, crossing my arms over my chest. “But it’s not because I didn’t want to do this.”
He makes a face. “You’ve been pushing me away since the minute things started feeling real between us, Daise. You shut down and don’t want to hear what I have to say because that means you have to confront how you’re feeling about somebody.”
“Yeah,” I argue. “Because I don’t believe you mean what you say. You’ve proven that when things are too difficult for you to hear, you walk away.“ He opens his mouth to argue, nostrils flaring in irritation, but I point to myself and continue. “I was coming around to my own feelings, was trying to tell you I needed space to breathe for a minute after the conversation with your mom, and then it blew up into something that it shouldn’t have been. You jumped to conclusions!”
“Because you,” his voice drops lower, eyes darkening as he watches me. “Wouldn’t tell me. You kept your mouth shut when it was important, after I begged you to tell me. I fucked up one time Daisy. One. And I deeply regret leaving because I knew it would break your trust, knew there would never be an us after that, but I told you I needed communication—“
“Did you ever think,” I snap sharply, my legs moving on their own accord until I’m standing in front of him. “That maybe I needed to process too? That when I’m asked during Thanksgiving whether or not I could be the best for you, maybe it took me off guard? That maybe I was contemplating if I could be that person? Every single person I’ve ever loved has left me, and somewhere deep down, I knew you wouldn’t, and I didn’t know if I love you in that way.“ I shake my head when his mouth gapes, quickly closing as the muscle in his cheek twitches. “Do you realize how scary it is,” I whisper. “To go from having nobody to having somebody who means everything to me?”
His eyes widen slightly, but I forge on.
“I have spent my entire life, Tanner, wondering why I’m not good enough for people. Why everybody constantly leaves me or takes advantage of me. I know I’m not perfect, but I’m certainly trying to work through the trauma I’ve endured at the hands of other people. I started to go to therapy on a weekly basis because of all of this. I know I have shit to work through, but I’m not used to this.”
“It’s not normal for somebody to see me and want to stay,” I continue. “But you—“ I point to him, practically jamming my finger into his chest. “You chose to stay. And when it mattered most—when you should’ve given me the fucking benefit of the doubt, you left. You fucked me, told me you loved me, and you left. You used me.”
His jaw tightens and he glances away, rolling his lips firmly into his mouth. I don’t look away from him because I know what this means for us. People like Tanner and I just don’t work out. We could never, because we come from different places, life experiences, and we will never fully be able to understand each other. I don’t blame him for that, nor do I blame myself, but it doesn’t make cutting this off any easier.
“I regret leaving,” he says so quietly I almost miss it, but then he turns and looks at me with unshed tears brimming in his eyes, and my heart constricts so tight it’s hard to get a breath down. “I stayed up all night holding you in my arms because I wasn’t sure you would’ve wanted me the next day, and I didn’t want to go another day without knowing what it felt like to fully have you,” he admits, dropping his head and shaking it. “I knew there was a chance I’d lose you, but I didn’t think we were done. I thought maybe we’d take the day for space, maybe even two for all I fucking cared, but I felt so fucking guilty the longer we went without talking because I knew I fucked up.“ He grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers together, dropping his gaze to look me directly in my eyes.
“Daisy,” he says with such pain in his voice it makes a sob work its way into my throat, although I’d been fighting back tears the entire time we’ve talked. “I meant what I said that night—that I loved you, but I never—“ he shakes his head, swallowing thickly. “Sleeping with you and leaving was never the plan, and that’s why I didn’t reach back out. I knew you would’ve felt taken advantage of, and I felt so fucking dirty for that. I never wanted to hurt you like that, baby,“ he says, the nickname bringing tears to my eyes. “I fucking swear I didn’t. And because I knew what I’d done,” he continues. “I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. I promised you I would take care of your heart, and the minute things got difficult, and I heard shit I didn’t want to hear, I freaked out. I broke my promise to you, and you didn’t—don’t deserve that, and I’m so fucking sorry.”
His words linger in the space between us, the guilt pouring from every inch of him. I’d been so wrapped up in my own hurt feelings that I hadn’t considered what that night may have meant for him. I’m so used to assuming everybody is going to treat me like shit that the minute shit got difficult, I shut down and pulled away when he needed to know I’d come back to him. He’d asked for that time and time again, didn’t he? He asked for me to communicate from the practical beginning of our “friendship” relationship thing, and when it mattered most, I shut down because of my own insecurities. I failed him, too.
And here I am, telling myself—convincing myself that we need to be done. Why? So I can push another person away and be more miserable without him? To make a point that I deserve nothing except to be alone because that’s all I’ve ever known? Why would I do that when I agreed from the beginning to just try with him? Is it trying if I don’t give it my all? If I shove him away when it matters the most?
“You know,” I say softly. “For making a promise to communicate with each other, we’re both kind of shit at it.”
He stares at me with a flicker of surprise before he bursts out laughing, wiping the tears from his eyes. He drops his head to his chest and shakes it as the smile splits his entire face, and I can’t help but join in. The laughter feels like a comedic relief for the tension over the past twelve hours and maybe helping erase some of the ache from the past three months. When it subsides, both of us wiping our eyes, our gazes lock. As the smile falls from his face, he takes a step closer. It’s only a fraction, but one that makes my legs go jelly.
His index finger and thumb grasp my chin gently and lift it so I’m staring directly into his eyes. Vibrant eyes darken, darting to my mouth and staying fixed there. Without being prompted, they part slightly.
“We still have so much to talk about, Daise,” he says lowly, slowly lifting his gaze back to mine.
“I know.”
“And I also know you came here to try breaking it off with me. To rid yourself of me for good.”
He’s always known. “I did.”
“And do you know why that’s not going to happen anymore?” he asks, his voice husky, his body warm as he takes a step forward.
“Why?” I ask breathlessly, chest rising and falling almost as quickly as the sigh falling from my mouth.
“Because, Daisy baby,” his lips are inches from mine, hovering so close I can practically taste him. “You and I? We’re it for me. But I’d be a stupid man to let you walk out of here without knowing who you belong to. Do you know who you belong to, Daisy?”
“W-who?” I whisper, my core clenching, my nerve-ending tingling, my breaths quickening.
“Me,” he says. “You are mine, baby, and I refuse to let you walk out of my life. I love you, Daisy Girl, and I think I have from the moment I first laid eyes on you. Actually,” he says. “I know I have. You are my home, baby, and I’m not losing you again.”
I swallow thickly, the tears brimming in my eyes. “You are my home too, Tanner.”
A beat, the only sounds in the space are our breathing. “Daisy?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I kiss you now?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
So he does.