Chapter 12 THEO
THEO
Once I’m sure Alex is asleep, I start to panic.
I’m glad I sent Catherine a text from Alex’s phone saying that she felt ill, but that was supposed to be so I could make her breakfast, shower her with gifts and affection, fuck her until neither of us could walk, and finally get to be with her. Instead, she thinks I’m ruining her life.
I might have fucked this up a little bit.
I run my hands through my hair, pacing back and forth. I need to go home. I need to give her some space. I need to regroup.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I quietly slip out of her house and ignore my car, focusing on my breathing as I run back to my place. I don’t understand how this happened. Everything felt perfect this morning when we woke up together, and then it was like a fucking switch flipped.
I might have let my impulses get the better of me here.
I know I’m not wrong about us, but I think I fucked this up by being too impulsive. I need to get myself under control again. I had a plan.
I was going to get to know her, make sure it would work between us, and find out how to make her happy. I did that, and it was easy because Alex and I are supposed to be together.
I was going to let her get to know me, pursue her in a way I knew she’d like, and let her see our connection for herself. I did not do that, but I thought it was the right time because all my impulses about Alex have been right so far.
I might have been wrong about the timing.
I can’t believe this is going so badly, but I can fix it. This is still going to work. I can still pursue her in a way she’ll like.
I thought Alex and I were the same and that sex would help us communicate, but I might have been wrong about that. I felt like my entire body was on fire the moment I kissed her, and all I could feel was our connection, but maybe she didn’t feel it.
I need to be more mindful that no matter how similar we are, we’re still different people. She seems a lot more sensitive than I thought she was, and I need to find a different way to show her that we’re connected.
She might be having a hard time accepting it right now, but we’re perfect for each other.
I just have to figure out how to get her to see that.
I get to my house, leaning on the porch railing and trying to catch my breath, massaging a stitch in my side and shaking my head in frustration. Stupid fucking Dr. Mills might have been right, and I can’t let amazing sex get in the way of a perfect relationship.
Oh, my god, the fucking sex.
I didn’t know sex could feel like that. It was like the feeling I got when I kissed her, but so much stronger.
Feeling that kind of connection with her the second I was inside of her and not coming immediately is probably the most significant achievement of my life.
Fuck, she was so ready for me, too. I’ve always had to take my time and let women adjust to me, but she just welcomed me in like she was made for me.
We fit together.
She’s so perfect for me. She’s so sensual, so responsive, and so easily overwhelmed.
That was amazing to find out because I fucking love that.
I’ve never been with anyone who needs that much aftercare, and kissing and praising her and hearing her small, happy sounds as she trembled in my arms made me feel euphoric and accomplished in a way I’ve never felt before.
I want that forever, and I want to give her that forever.
Fuck, I want to make her come forever. She’s such a vision when she comes, and I got to see it again and again.
She needed me, just like I knew she would, and she fucking loves the sex as much as I do, just like I knew she would.
God, the way she was with me this morning, so needy and passionate and sweet, with her soft little whimpered please -
I’m coming hard before I even realize that I’m leaning against my porch railing and masturbating in broad daylight.
When the fuck did I even start jerking off?
I groan as I wipe my hand clean against my pants and head inside.
Thank god my house isn’t that visible from the street.
What the fuck is my problem? I am going to keep fucking this up if I can’t get my shit together.
I check Alex’s cameras to see that she’s still asleep, curled up in a tight ball under her duvet, her hair fanned out around her head like a halo. I watch her for a few minutes, longing coursing through me.
She’s an absolute angel, and I’m a dumb fuck who needs to fix this.
I take a shower, thinking about how scared Alex was this morning.
She’s obviously never been in a fight or held a knife against someone before, but she felt like she needed to.
She doesn’t need to be afraid of me, so maybe it wasn’t about me.
Her panic attack was scary, and I think she almost passed out.
I did my best to help her regulate her breathing the way I was taught to, but it took her the better part of an hour to finally calm down.
She said it hasn’t happened since she left, but left where? Why did she leave? What did she say - Why are men always taking things from me? What does that mean?
I groan and drop my face into my soapy hands. I’m such a fucking idiot. I’ve been so overcome by our connection and so distracted by my desire to fuck her that I’ve entirely glossed over the fact that she’s probably living under a fake identity. How did I overlook something so important?
When she goes back to work on Monday, I’m going to figure out who the fuck she was.
I get out of the shower and check the cameras, but Alex is still asleep.
I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes up, so I’ll head back soon to take care of her.
This weekend will be about calming her down, winning her over, and helping her see what we have.
I’ll make her dinner, take her out and spoil her, show her how connected we are outside of the bedroom, and we’ll get to know each other better and adjust to our relationship.
I can fix this.
***
She’s still asleep when I get back to her place, so I go grocery shopping for her to kill time.
I picked up what I needed for breakfast this morning, but she still barely has any food in her place.
I focus on buying her things that are quick and easy to prepare since she has an aversion to cooking, but then I go overboard and buy her everything I think she should be eating.
It’s fine, I’ll just cook for her.
I eye the bouquets of flowers on my way out, grabbing one I think she’ll like.
When I get back to her place, she’s still asleep, so I put everything away quietly, organizing her fridge and cabinets so everything faces label out.
I slip into her room to put the flowers on her dresser, and she stirs a little but doesn’t wake up.
I clean up the attempted French toast and coffee from this morning before cleaning the kitchen top to bottom.
I clean up her living room, even though it’s tidy.
I dust, making sure the cameras are still hidden.
I look at the small still lifes she’s been working on lately.
She stays asleep through all of it, and I get nervous enough to check on her, but she’s just sleeping.
I open a bottle of wine and pour myself a glass, grabbing her copy of Persuasion from the bookshelf.
I’m so distracted and nervous that I keep reading the same sentences repeatedly, and it takes me an hour to get through the first chapter.
When Alex finally emerges from her room, her hair is messy and she’s wearing my college sweater and her sweats.
She stops when she sees me, her face blank.
“You’re still here?” she asks flatly.
I take a deep breath and try to smile at her.
“Of course. I thought maybe we could talk?” She ignores me and grabs the bottle of wine, sitting on the small couch as far away from me as she can and curling into a tight ball.
She turns on the TV and puts on the BBC Pride and Prejudice, which I’ve seen her watch at least twice.
“I’m more of a Persuasion person,” I joke, lifting the book in my hand, but she still ignores me. She watches the show for a few minutes, slowly sipping the wine from the bottle. At one point, her entire body tenses and she sniffs at the wine.
“Is this drugged?” I laugh at her, but she seems serious.
“No, it’s a Malbec. I picked up some wine and groceries while you were sleeping.”
“More apologies?” Her voice is bitter.
“What?” Without looking at me, she gestures to the unopened gift bags on the breakfast bar.
“Um, that’s not…no, those are just gifts that I knew you’d like.” She looks at me, her face blank but her eyes sharp.
“How do you know that I’d like them?” I stare at her appraisingly. Based on her reaction, she may not be ready to hear about that. She’ll understand once we’re better adjusted.
“Um, I know you pretty well,” I say, aiming for nonchalance.
“How?” I shrug. I can see her thinking, her face hardening the longer she considers me.
“I didn’t just happen to meet you at that bar, did I?
” I try to keep my face neutral, but her eyes widen.
“My office?” I say nothing, and she looks away quickly, drinking more wine and curling into a tighter ball.
I want to comfort her, but I know I need to follow her lead right now, especially since she’s so upset, so I don’t reach for her.
She puts the bottle of wine down slowly. “I’m calling the fucking cops,” she says, her breathing unsteady. I grimace and look up at the ceiling.
She’s really going to hate this.
“Sweetheart, we both know that’s not an option for you,” I say, keeping my voice soft.
Her mouth drops open in shock. “Plus, I have your phone,” I mutter, and she blanches, looking around frantically.
“I’ll give it back to you on Sunday, okay?
I think we should take this weekend to get to know each other better.
” She freezes, her face horrified as she stares down at her hands, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” I feel a surge of indignation, trying to remember that she doesn’t know me or fully understand what we have yet.
“Alex, look at me.” Fuck, she looks so scared, and I just want to hold her. I grip my knees tightly to keep from reaching for her. “I am never going to hurt you, okay? I promise. I just want us to spend the weekend getting…adjusted.”
“Adjusted to what?”
“To our relationship. We should take some time to get to know each other better. Together. As a couple.” The more I talk, the wider her eyes get, and she’s so pale she looks ill.
I didn’t expect this to go perfectly, but this isn’t even going well.
I feel a spike of anxiety and start babbling, trying to explain it to her, hoping she’ll understand.
“What we have is really special, Alex. We work well together. We’re complementary, but we’re also similar in a lot of ways that will make building a life together easy.
” She starts to hyperventilate, but I can fix this if I can just make her understand.
“Woah, hey, calm down, no pressure. I don’t expect us to get married and have kids tomorrow, you know?
” I try to smile at her, but the look on her face kills it immediately.
I should probably stop talking now, but I can’t.
“Do you want kids? You’re so good with Miles that -” Alex starts to cry, and I can’t stop fucking talking.
“Okay, wrong time. I’m just saying this is new - take some deep breaths, okay?
- and we need time to adjust before - oh, no, please don’t -” I finally stop talking because Alex is having another panic attack.
I’m such a fucking asshole.
I move very slowly, gently taking her face in my hands as I talk her through counting her breaths.
Her eyes are round and watery and locked on mine the entire time, and we finally get her breath into a slow, deep rhythm.
I grab the blanket from the back of the couch and pull her close, wrapping my arms around her and covering us with the blanket.
She doesn’t pull away from me, but she’s completely nonresponsive.
We sit like that through several episodes of Pride and Prejudice.
She starts shaking in my arms at one point, and when I realize she’s crying, my knee starts bouncing quickly.
I focus on the fact that this is kind of like the normal nights we’ll have together soon, minus the fact that she can’t stop crying and I’m so anxious I want to vomit.
It’s still a step in the right direction.
I finally relax a little when she falls asleep in my arms, and then I start to freak out. I drop my head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling and trying to meditate, to compartmentalize, to manage my feelings, to figure out how to get back in control of the situation.
I totally fucked this up, but it’s going to get better.
It’s an adjustment for both of us.