Chapter 20 #3
“She’ll be fine. I made sure she had all her food and water before I left. I used to go to class sometimes for ten-hour days. She’ll be fine.”
I’m still not done yet. I want to tell her the rest of what I need to get out. “I’d like to come clean with your dad. I can’t talk to him if he doesn’t know that we’re more than acquaintances, and I’d really like to do that. He knows me better than Lockwood ever will.”
She kisses me. It’s gentle and sweet and maybe even a little bit shy on her part too, but then my fingers tangle in her soft, silky hair, changing the narrative.
I kiss her deeply, stroking her tongue, hungry for her.
She’s already heard so much. Too much. I’ve dumped all my shit on her over and over and she’s been strong enough to bear up to it, but I want her to have the whole truth. Even the ugliest parts.
I break away, breathing raggedly, and guide her to the kitchen.
We need sleep more than we need caffeine.
She laughs when I take out the box of peppermint tea.
I have no idea what it’s doing in my cupboards, but when I moved in, the old ladies brought around a bunch of groceries.
Her laugh is a lovely sound, filled with mirth and gentle teasing.
My kettle isn’t fancy like hers. Nothing is. I have the barest amount in this house. I haven’t added one thing that the club didn’t supply when they furnished the place. I’ve done nothing to make it a home.
While the black plastic kettle heats up, I lean my ass against the counter and cross my arms. Fawnie’s hands rest lightly on my hips, like she can’t bear to not be touching me.
I don’t mind. I really, really don’t mind.
I love the idea that I might have something that she needs. Not just wants. Needs.
“I- there’s something else I want to tell you.
” She tenses, but studies me bravely, already knowing that she’s not going to like what it is, but shoring herself up to be strong enough to take it.
“I think that talking to Lockwood is a good idea. He’s supposed to be good with trauma.
I- it’s just taken me this long to be able to get to the point where I’d want to relive it, sharing it so I could deal with it.
I thought shoving it down was the way to get past it. ”
“I’m so sorry.”
“No. I don’t mean the fire. I mean long before that.
I’ve been fucked up since I was a kid. I’ve always known that my mom blamed me for my dad leaving.
They were never married. She’d say it was before she was religious and found God and she lived a life of sin and hedonism, but her decision to have me was the reason he left.
He never wanted kids. She never let me forget that I was the reason he left.
I guess when you’ve had a childhood of being made to feel unwanted and damaged then you start to believe it.
She was sitting beside my hospital bed when I woke up after the fire.
She looked me right in the face and told me that the burns were a punishment for my sins.
Now I was as ugly on the outside as I was on the inside.
She… made it clear that her home was no longer open to me. ”
After the words pour out of me, I do feel a little bit better.
If I was going to open up to anyone, it would be Fawnie, but guilt churns my gut.
She needed to know this, but I hate the destroyed expression on her face.
Her family life was a little bit fucked too, but in a completely different way.
Her parents both adored her and loved her and tried to do what was best for her, even if it wasn’t best at all.
My mother had me, but she never truly wanted me.
She never knew how to love me. I never wanted to open myself up to that kind of cruelty and disappointment again, but Fawnie has stripped me bare.
Fawnie hugs me. She slips her arms under mine and draws me in, wrapping her hands around the back of my head to support me like I’m glass, but she wasn’t looking at me when I told her everything, like she expected me to shatter.
She’s never looked at me like I’m damaged.
She thinks it’s okay to be cracked and chipped and missing a few pieces.
“You’re right,” I groan against her shoulder. “I’m tired. Of all of it. I hate that I’m used to feeling like this.”
She rocks us a little, swaying back and forth. I know I probably look ridiculous, but for once, I don’t care. I can admit to myself how much I want this.
“Would you try something?”
I don’t respond because my throat is too thick, and after all those words, I don’t know if there’s anything left that I can dig out of myself and thrust into the light, but I don’t need to. Fawnie gets it like she’s always got me.
“When those thoughts come for you, can you imagine me siting right here, telling you that you’re a good soul? A great human. That you are worthy and beautiful, that your worth is immeasurable, and that you deserve so many good things?”
“I thought about you earlier,” I admit, hollowing myself out.
“I got home and I was so fucked up. I had too much shit on the inside. I went into the bathroom and stripped down and forced myself to look. It had nothing to do with how pissed off I was. It was everything else, but I still wanted to punch the fuck out of the mirror and take the rest of the bathroom apart. I didn’t, because I thought about you.
I thought how hurt you’d be to see me hurt. ”
The words settle into silence. All around us is quiet. The kettle must have clicked off a good while ago. I didn’t even notice. Fawnie’s still holding me, still swaying with me, like she has music in her head too. She certainly has it in her soul.
“Dad usually invites me over for dinner once a week. Next time he does, I could ask if you could come too. The answer will obviously be yes, but if I ask him, I think he’ll know what I’m trying to say before we even get there.”
No one who was at the symphony and has eyes would have been able to look at us and know that we weren’t just something casual.
We sat together. We ate together after. I’m sure that the way I was looking at Fawnie, like I wanted to hold her and crawl inside of her, like I wanted to push her away because she was so dangerous, and pull her close because all along, she’s been everything I need, would have set even the most emotionally unintelligent person on alert.
That might describe me perfectly, but I wasn’t the one doing the observing.
Preacher’s not that at all.
“I talked to him about us being friends when I sat down with him and my mom after she first got here. I don’t think he’ll be surprised. I never meant to make it a secret,” Fawnie continues. “I truly did just want to give us time. We didn’t need the added pressure.”
“Do you think he’ll be happy? I’m guessing he tried to warn you off.”
Fawnie steps away to pour hot water into the mugs, but she’s smiling the whole time. “He didn’t want either of us getting hurt. He wanted me to be realistic.” She winks at me. “The best thing I ever did was to refuse to be. Or maybe I was all along. Either way, I’m thankful that I’m here.”
She holds out a steaming mug to me, but I know she’s offering so much more than that.
From the very first word she ever spoke to me, this woman offered me a chance at a life far more beautiful and so much fuller than anything I could have ever imagined for myself.
I was the one who saved her from that fire, but she saved me from myself.
I don’t know why I have to be the kind of person that needs to be in the basement of rock bottom before I even consider making changes.
I don’t know why I have to be crushed and exhausted, defeated and barely able to pick myself up before I offer up a hand to ask for help.
I don’t know why I have to be near drowned before I appreciate my next breath.
My brain was so firmly against everything Fawnie represented and offered and was.
Is. She defeated that too. She’s torn down every wall, every defense, and every excuse that I’ve had.
She’s in my blood and my breath, my heart, my lungs, my soul, in my shattered nervous system.
I’m barely able to draw in a shuddering breath. I’m about to fall apart, and I don’t want to do that. I want to offer her more than I am. I want to be more for her, period. I want to find the ability to smile through the pain and the tears, even if I let them come.
“You’re sure?”
“Am I sure that I want to tell my dad about us, or am I sure about us, or about going forward with this, or about what we’ve done already? I need some more information here.”
“Yes. To everything.”
“Yes to everything.” She repeats, but it’s not sarcastic or silly or mimicking.
It’s her reassurance. It’s her smile. It’s her humor being exactly what I need, but she’s so far from done.
“I’m so absolutely sure. I love being with you.
I love being in your orbit. I love that you’re in mine.
I know that we’re both going to try hard to have a beautiful future together.
So yes. Totally sure. I’m excited to tell my dad and Rita, and to call my mom and let her know.
Beyond excited because I know exactly how lucky I am. ”
“You’re gonna make me cry.” She is. But good tears this time.
They well over before I can blink them away. It’s too much, but maybe this is what it’s like to thaw. I’ve been so dissociated for so long that now all my emotions are so near to the surface.
Fawnie sets her mug down and wipes my cheeks for me. Again. I’m less mortified this time. I can’t be anything other than so thankful when I look into her beautiful, radiant face. My heart is used to being empty. Cracked. Broken.
It’s so full now that it could burst.
“This is the best day of my life,” I blurt. I didn’t mean to. Those words leaving my body make me want to cry even harder.
Fawnie takes my mug from me and sets it beside hers. She turns my palms up and kisses each of them. I have no idea what she’s doing when she folds my arms up. She sets my hands on top of my heart, one after the other, then adds her own hands over the top.
“Mine too,” she breathes. “Just like every day coming will be.”