9. Ezrah
Ezrah
9
Idon’t like how long it’s taking him to say anything, his eyes darting everywhere but me. My heart pounds, hands damp where they clutch the glass on the table.
This is stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have just taken the hint. After what feels like an eternity, Lucas lets out a sigh.
“Look, it shouldn’t have happened,” his tone is soft, almost apologetic. “It was a mistake. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.
It’s like ice water thrown on me. “Of course. It was a mistake,” I bite out.
Lucas’s face hardens. “I know. You’re my client. It was inappropriate, it won’t happen again.”
“Right, of course.” I shove to my feet. “I’ll be in my room. Good talk.”
I can hear him calling my name, but I can’t let myself hear. I can’t believe I was so stupid.
Alone in my room, I slump to the floor, tears burning my eyes. I should know better by now. Lucas isn’t special.
I’m not special.
Not to him.
Not to anyone.
Why would I be?
I shake my head.
I don’t have time for this anyway. I have Dil to think about. I have my career, or whatever’s left of it by the time I get back.
So why did it sting like hot water on sunburn?
“Fuck!” My head thumps against the wall, tears running down my cheeks. I scrub my face with my sleeve.
I’m not-
He isn’t worth this.
I just met him. He’s just some guy. There’s nothing special about him, even if he does have soft hair and a bitable body and is super sweet and-
So why does it feel like my heart has been carved out with a melon baller?
For a long time, I just sulk on my floor. When it’s gone on for long enough to border on pathetic, I fall into bed and let oblivion pull me under.
It’s nice to have a dreamless sleep for a change. No ghosts of the past. No phantoms of what could be.
Just blessed darkness.
A shrill cry jerks me awake around midnight. Dil is crying. I race to her room and set to work assessing what she needs.
“Hey there, Dilly,” I scoop her up with gentle arms.
She continues wailing, unaffected by my presence. I can feel Lucas hovering in the doorway, watching. I do my best to block it out.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”
“I think she needs changed,” Lucas is suddenly beside me with that look on his face that reminds me that he seems to have some kind of telepathy with Dil in a way I can’t even dream of.
“Right, thanks.” I hand her over, arms crossed taking the space in the doorway he held not long ago.
“I wasn’t saying you couldn’t do it.”
“I know, but I’ll be doing all of it on my own soon enough anyway, might as well take advantage of an extra pair of hands.”
He beams at me, then gets to work.
I should feel angry, I think to myself, watching him from the doorway. He rejected me not six hours ago, and now here he is taking better care of Dil than it seems like I can. He doesn’t even care about me. Hell, any day now we could get the call, then he would be gone and he wouldn’t think about me again.
But then Dil lets out a giggle and something warm blooms in my chest.
Lucas shoots me a smile, holding her out to me. “I’ll give the two of you a minute. I’m going to head back to bed.”
For a moment, I think he’s going to lean in and kiss me on the cheek, but of course, he doesn’t.
I take her in my arms, sinking into a rocking chair. “You’re really starting to like him, aren’t you?” I whisper to her.
She gurgles at me.
“I know you are, and I’m sorry, but he’s temporary. He’ll be out of our lives before you know it, then it's just me and you. You should try not to get too attached. I don’t want him to hurt you.”
I sit there holding her long after she falls back asleep.
That night is filled with endless tossing and turning. Finally, when the sun pierces through the curtains and it’s a time those of a more masochistic nature call morning, I roll out of bed and stumble to the kitchen.
Lucas shoots me a tight smile from across the room where he is playing with Dil. “Breakfast’s on the table for you.”
“Thanks,” I take my seat, pretending not to notice he made my favorite, chocolate chip pancakes.
He sits down beside me with a cup of coffee and a smile that makes something twist inside me. “I found another paved trail when I was out on my morning run. It's not too long. Thought Dil might like the view.”
“Sure, just let me finish eating.”
He lights up, relief evident in every line of his body. “Great! Just let me know when you’re ready.”
I try to pretend his smile doesn’t melt something inside of me and go back to my breakfast.
And so, a short time later, we are walking along the path. It brings us far closer to the lake than the usual one does. A flock of geese is nesting along the shore, nurturing babies freshly hatched.
The only downside is the wind, which cuts far sharper than I’d expected. I wrap my arms around myself, regretting my choice of a t-shirt.
“Are you cold?” Lucas asks.
I shrug. “Didn’t plan on spending time in the mountains when I packed.”
He frowns and the next thing I know he’s unbuttoning his red and yellow flannel, “Here,” he drapes it over my shoulders. “Can’t have you getting sick while you’re in my care.”
I flush up to my ears, narrowly suppressing the urge to bury my face in the shirt and breathe in his scent. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You should hang onto it. Doesn’t sound like you brought a lot of warm clothes.”
We continue our walk in comfortable silence, and if he notices the flush on my face, it’s easy enough to blame it on the cold.
It’s shocking how easily we fall into a routine given the circumstances. Lucas is always up hours before me. I'll stumble out of bed at an ungodly ten o'clock. We’ll have breakfast or brunch for Lucas, take Dil out for a walk, and play outside, she'll take a nap, Lucas will make dinner, and we’ll spend some more time with Dil, then repeat the process the next day.
I’m not getting much (any) writing done, but I’m trying not to think about that. I have enough saved up that it won't be the end of the world if I have a hard time getting my next job when I get back.
Lucas was right about one thing. Things are getting easier with Dil. Every day we get closer. Concerningly, so do Lucas and I. I know it’s a bad idea but I can’t resist his pull.
Then one night, when he’s done cleaning up dinner Lucas hesitates on his way to his room, “Hey, do you want to watch a movie? I don't think either of us is ready for the night to end."
I feel my cheeks flush as my mind races to how I’d like the night to end. I should really say-
“Yeah, that sounds great!"
No, that is not what I was supposed to say!
"Great! If you want to grab us some snacks I'll find us something to watch!"
I head into the kitchen space, throw some popcorn in the microwave, grab a couple sodas from the fridge, and go sit next to Lucas. When I get there he’s practically bouncing.
"They have one of my favorites! Come on, grab a seat."
I flop down, then groan when I see the title. "Seriously?"
"What? What's wrong with it?"
"It's a pointless romantic comedy, the same as all the others."
"You shouldn't judge something you haven't seen."
"I think I'm qualified to have an opinion on this one,” I grumble, popping open a soda.
He studies me for a moment, then his jaw drops. "No! You worked on this?!"
"Don't remind me."
"This is so cool! I'm about to watch one of my favorite movies with one of the people who helped make it!"
"Do we have to?"
"It is absolutely non-negotiable now!"
I let out one last groan but it’s too late. He already hit play.
"Don't worry. You can pick what we watch tomorrow night."
Tomorrow night?
Something tender and soft uncurls in my chest, like the first blooms of spring. I cross my arms protectively in response. "Fine, I guess I can get through one shitty movie."
I strap in for what I know will be an hour and forty-five minutes of pain and suffering. The film starts, opening with a cheesy narration about the joys of love and why it's worth it even with loss and blah blah blah.
Lucas is enraptured, lips moving along with the script.
“You really like this movie,” I’m not sure even as I’m saying it if it’s a statement or a question.
He blinds me with his smile. “Always have. Went to see it in theaters the day I was discharged.”
“Funny. It was actually the first junior writer job I managed to land.”
“Tell me about it.”
I shrug. “Not much to tell. I was just some grunt cleaning up lines no one else could be bothered with.”
He shakes his head. “You’re amazing. OH!” he exclaims as the rain storm starts. “This is my favorite part.”
In the end, it turns out I have to sit through more shitty movies. Despite his offer, I never get to pick a movie during this new part of our nightly routine. Still, while the movies aren’t very interesting, his reactions are. The way he’s so expressive, the way he’s on the edge of his seat with each confession, lights up with every kiss, gasps with every disagreement.
It only takes two for me to realize I want this every night for the rest of my life.
I need to get over this.