Chapter 12 #4
As I stand there, dripping, in the hallway, I hear the water change as Ames moves the showerhead and switches positions. His breath hitches audibly.
For a few seconds, I’m frozen, listening to the sharp exhale that follows and imagining his left hand wrapped around himself as water streams down his body.
I want it to be my hand. I want to be watching his face as he comes apart. The want is so visceral, so real, it hurts.
I need to move. To get the fuck away from this door before I do something monumentally stupid like go back in, and?—
I stalk down the hall to the guest room, my wet towel doing nothing to hide how hard I am, and close the door. I throw off the towel, grip myself hard, and think about Ames’s moan. Thirty seconds later, I’m coming into my hand with a strangled groan and his name caught between my teeth.
This isn’t what I want. Not even close.
But it’s enough to know I want more. So much more.
Maybe an hour later, I’m in the laundry room folding towels when the doorbell rings.
Ames has dozed off again—in the guest room this time, still shower-damp and dressed only in fresh sweatpants. I’m trying to pretend it’s healing from his injuries that’s knocked him out and not… anything else.
I hurry to answer the door before whoever it is can wake him, expecting to find one or more Axfords, since Vivian’s already texted that she’s bringing dinner later.
Instead, it’s Lissa .
And I realize it’s time to start taking action.
“Robbie!” She launches herself at me, wrapping both arms around my neck. “I missed you! I know it was only, like, a day and a half, but I had so much fun in New York, and I can’t wait to tell you?—”
“Shhh.” I step outside and shut the front door behind me. “Sorry, Ames is asleep. Don’t wanna wake him.”
“Ames?” Her smile falters. “He’s staying here?”
I nod. “He needed someone to take care of him?—”
“And his twenty-seven siblings, his parents, his friends, and his boyfriend couldn’t?”
“And I wanted to be the one to do it,” I finish firmly.
She blinks like she didn’t expect me to admit it.
“Lissa, can we sit?” I gesture to the swing hanging on the right side of the porch.
She sits, but her posture’s rigid. She forces a little laugh. “What’s going on? This seems serious.”
I sit too, and even though I take up half the swing, I make sure to leave space between us. With Anna’s words in mind, I dive right in. “I meant what I said the other day. I don’t think we should get married.”
Lissa frowns. “Robbie, don’t be silly?—”
“I’m not. Liss. I really care about you. But you deserve someone who’s truly in love with you. And… I’m realizing that’s not me.”
“Yes, it is,” she insists. “Look, if this is about the celibacy challenge, maybe we—” She moves closer to me on the swing and puts her hand on my thigh.
I stand quickly. My brain has already shifted to the point where any touch but Ames’s feels foreign. “No. That’s not what this is about.”
“Then what is it?” she demands, arms spread. Then she inhales sharply and straightens. “This is about Ames, isn’t it? Ames got injured, and now you’re feeling all these big emotions.”
I don’t answer, which I guess is answer enough.
“Oh my god.” She lets out a laugh. “Look, I know you love him, honey. I’ve… I’ve made peace with that, mostly, even if I get a little jealous sometimes. But I know your relationship with him isn’t like ours?—”
“It’s not,” I agree. “And this isn’t about Ames.
Or not entirely. Yes, him getting injured put…
a lot of things in perspective for me. But the truth is, I’ve been thinking about our relationship for a while.
” I lean back against the porch railing with my arms braced beside me.
“You said you were tired of me not treating you like a priority. And you’re right. I haven’t been.”
“But you can change. We can get counseling?—”
I shake my head. “You know, a couple weeks ago, my therapist asked what your vision for our future was, and what mine was, and how we communicated our differences. I told her we were great at compromising?—”
“We are,” Lissa says. “Aren’t we?”
“Maybe too good.” I smile. “How much can you compromise about your future before it stops being yours ?”
“That doesn’t make any sense. We want the same things. A house, kids?—”
I shake my head. “I want this house. And I don’t want a country club membership. I don’t want to feel guilty for doing my job. And you deserve someone who’s not going to run out on you during dinner.” I let out a breath. “You deserve more than I can give you. That’s the bottom line.”
“But… we were perfectly happy, Robbie. ”
“It’s not happiness when you’re ignoring all the things making you unhappy, Liss. I’m sorry. Genuinely. I wish I’d realized… well, a lot of things… sooner.”
She sniffs. “You know, Joshua said this might happen. He said you and I were too different, and I told him that was a good thing.”
I’m pretty sure she’s trying to provoke me by bringing up her ex-boyfriend, and I wait to feel even a smidgen of the possessive surge I felt when I thought about Ames with Auden.
But I don’t.
And that just confirms—not that I needed it—that I’m doing the right thing.
“Our differences wouldn’t matter if we wanted the same things for our future, but we don’t. You’re a wonderful person, Lissa?—”
Her eyes well up. “Please. Don’t pretend to care?—”
“It’s not pretend. I care that you’re hurt. I care very much that I’m hurting you. But be honest, Liss. Are you happy? Really?”
She opens her mouth, then closes it and lets out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know,” she whispers.
I nod a little because that confusion, that feeling that your whole life’s been thrown in the air and twisted around… I get it. I was in it, just a few days ago.
Hell, I’m still in it. I know what I want, but that doesn’t mean I’ll get to have it.
After talking for a few more minutes, we finally say our goodbyes. Lissa leans up to press a kiss on my cheek before turning and walking down the porch steps without looking back. I watch her get in her car and drive away, and I continue to sit there .
It’s another pretty spring day—sunny and a little cool with the breeze—and up and down the sides of the path, smooth green leaves have begun spearing up from the ground.
Eventually, I go inside and shut the door. I lean back against it and blow out a breath… when suddenly, Ames appears in the doorway.
“What the fuck?” I demand. “Are you okay? Do you need something?”
He looks like he’s survived a small war, getting his walking boot on and getting out here from the bedroom. I’m honestly not sure how he heaved himself out of bed in the first place.
Ames shakes his head and stares back at me defiantly.
“I had my window open and I heard voices— your voice. You sounded upset. And I thought… I dunno, maybe there was an emergency. But then it took five full minutes to get upright, so.” His face turns red, but he looks me over anyway. “Is everything okay?”
I take in his concerned blue eyes. The stubble on his jaw. The way he’s holding himself carefully, but he’s still freaking here. For me. As always.
“I’m good, Ames,” I tell him. “I’m better than ever.”
Because for the first time, I’m not compromising.
I’m choosing what’ll make me happy.
I’m choosing him. Even though I know he’s not quite ready to hear it.
Ames nods once. “Then maybe, if you’re free, you could help me back to bed?”
“Yeah,” I say softly, wrapping an arm around his waist and feeling a deep sense of rightness about it. “I can definitely do that.”