Chapter 14 Remembering December 14 #2
“On December fourteenth, you said your period had ended four days before that, so December tenth. It’s been a month. So if you don’t start tomorrow, you’ll be late.”
I can hardly comprehend that it hasn’t even been a month since the day Preston came crashing into my life and took it over in every single way.
That day, I was a regular struggling artist working at a café to make ends meet.
Now I’m trapped like a princess in a tower waiting for her Prince Charming to come rescue her; jobless, technically homeless, and probably pregnant.
I swallow hard. “If it’s the tenth, I’m already late. That’s when my period usually ends, not when it starts.”
Preston is silent for a minute, and I know he’s silently berating himself for the miscalculation.
I’m impressed he even knows as much as he does, considering his family.
They’re the kind of people who think it’s unseemly to talk about things like menstruation, even for girls.
I once asked Lindsey for a tampon, and from her scandalized reaction, you’d think I asked to borrow a dildo.
I’m surprised Preston even knows what a period is.
“You’re late,” he says carefully, taking my hand and lacing his fingers through mine. “Should we get a test?”
“We?” I ask. “As if I were part of this decision.”
My heart is beating erratically in my chest. In truth, I suspected I was late, but I didn’t know exactly what day it was. I can’t remember the last time I’ve used my phone, and though I knew it was into January by now, I haven’t counted the days since Christmas. They all blur together.
Every day, I get up and have breakfast alone, play with Peanut, dance with Magnolia, listen to records, watch movies in the theater room down the hall, and eat the fancy meals Mrs. Potter brings.
I don’t go to the music studio except to listen to Magnolia.
I know Preston got it for me because he thinks that’s what I want to do with my life and that now I can do it here, but I think I’m done living Destiny’s dream.
I hope I made her proud, that I fulfilled it enough that she’d be happy if she were here to see me.
But I’m done with that dream. I’m trying to figure things out, to figure myself out, and I’m grateful for the respite to do it, forced though it may be.
When else am I ever going to have a chance like this, short of checking myself into some kind of treatment facility?
I have everything I want at my fingertips and luxury accommodations on top of it, complete with massages and a weekly visit from a yoga instructor.
I feel like one of the celebrities who check themselves into Cedar Crest for exhaustion.
The only thing missing is a psychiatrist.
I hate that some part of me knows this is exactly what I need, something I never would have done for myself.
In my world, it’s selfish to take time for yourself, to think about only yourself.
I may not have chosen to, but I’m going to treasure the fuck out of it while I have it, work on myself as much as I can while I have the chance.
I don’t even have the distraction of a phone, so I don’t know if the news about me firing Nash has come out.
Not that it’ll be much more than a five-second mention at the end of a gossip show.
Still, seeing it would make me feel guilty and like a failure.
If I wanted to continue in the business, I could.
But it’s already behind me, fading with the rapidity of any other job that you never had true passion for does when you quit.
I don’t know if I’m ready for the next job that’s coming my way.
“We’re in this together,” Preston says gently, his fingers squeezing mine.
“I know the burden is on you, but I want you to know, I’m going to be here, Doll.
I will always take care of you, no matter what.
Anything I can do to make your life better in any way, I’m going to do it.
You’re the most important person in the world to me. ”
I swallow hard. “You make it so hard to hate you.”
“I only wish I could give you everything you deserve,” he says. “As much as you’re giving me.”
He turns to me and pulls me in, pressing his lips to my forehead for a long moment.
I lay my head on his chest, too conflicted to know if I should pull away or not.
I don’t know how I feel about him anymore.
I avoided him for so long, avoided this, because it was scary.
But he’s forced me to confront my fears, too.
To give in and let him have me, to know how good he can make me feel.
It’s every bit as terrifying as I always feared, and yet, knowing he’s all in, that he already loves me, makes me feel more secure than the calmer love I had with Devlin ever did.
Preston never makes me wonder where I stand or how he feels. I never worry that if I show my feelings, I’ll be hurt or rejected. He just loves me… Too much.
“I’m also not stupid,” he says, pulling back and turning to face the pond.
“I know you don’t love me, Doll. I’ve accepted that.
I want you to know that I don’t expect that from you.
I never will. And I’ll never, ever treat you badly for it or throw it back in your face.
I made the choice to live without that so that I could have you, and that’s a choice I’m content with. I will never blame you for that.”
“That’s not fair,” I whisper, my throat tight.
He holds up a hand. “It was my choice. I will stand by it until the day I die. I may not be a good man, but I will never walk out on you, walk away from my family. I chose to make a family with you. You didn’t choose this, so you shouldn’t face any repercussions.
I know you don’t want this life. But Doll, I’m going to work every fucking day to make it the best damn life anyone’s ever had.
To treat you like the queen you are, give you everything a queen deserves.
I’ll love you more than anyone’s ever been loved, and I won’t ask you for a single thing in return.
I still have more than I could ask for, more than I deserve, if I have you. ”
I don’t know why I’m crying, if it’s hormones, and if that means I’m about to start my period or that I’m not going to. I just know that I have to wipe away tears and take a breath before speaking. “I don’t even know why you want me,” I admit. “I’m not even your type.”
“You aren’t a type, you’re you,” he says, turning to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “The only person I’ve ever wanted. I don’t have a type. I only ever had you.”
“I’m not that special, Preston,” I say. “Sure, I may look a certain way that some men like, but trust me, there are plenty of curvy blondes in the world. Just go to LA and you’ll find a hundred at any party.”
“You think that’s why I’m with you?” Preston asks, cradling my face and forcing me to meet his gaze.
He came out without a mask, leaving his face bare, the twisted red skin on his cheek so raw it tears my heart in two.
“Dolly, I loved you when we were five years old. I had no idea what you’d look like. ”
“But why?” I ask, my throat constricting painfully.
“Because you’re soft but not weak, and you’re beautiful in a hundred ways that have nothing to do with your physical beauty. You’re loyal, and brave, and determined, and so fucking stubborn it drives me out of my goddamn mind.”
I laugh a little, uncomfortable with his praise, and draw away. “You like that I’m stubborn?”
“No,” he says quietly. “I love it. I love that you challenge me, that you push me. I love that you make me better, or at least want to be better for you. My family never taught me to be loyal to anyone but myself, but you did. You showed me what it means to be brave, to go for what you want, no matter what stands in your way.”
“Well, obviously that was a mistake.”
He looks at me a second, like he’s as surprised by my words as I am. And then he grins, a real smile that makes his scar crease at the corner of his blind eye. I start laughing and crying at once, and he pulls me into his arms and kisses my wet, messy face.
“I love you, Doll,” he whispers, cradling my cheek. “From the beginning of time until the end.”
Tears fill my eyes. “I love you, too.”
The words slip out before I can stop them, without even giving me a chance to think about them.
But the moment they’re out there, I know they’re true.
I didn’t even see it coming, didn’t know it was happening, until it was too late.
I didn’t even recognize it because it doesn’t hurt the way love hurt before. It’s easy, as natural as breathing.
I freeze, waiting for Preston to pounce, to gloat, to do something.
But he just gazes back at me, the heaviest sadness I’ve ever seen pooling in his storm-cloud eyes.
He doesn’t look happy that I admitted it or that I love him back.
He looks like it hurts him more than to say it and not have it said in return.
“You don’t have to pretend for me, baby doll,” he says, laying a soft finger over my lips. “That part of your life is over. You can be real now.”
I shake my head, the tears flowing faster now.
Preston wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me in and holding me to his chest until the silent tears dry up.
At last, I sit back, feeling suddenly embarrassed by my sadness.
I don’t know how to feel about him, about the tragedy of his life, about his willingness to accept a life devoid of love as long as he can give his love to the person he wants.
He tips my chin up, searching my gaze. “Are you happy at all? Even just a little?”
“I’m terrified,” I admit, my fingers curling around the edge of the wooden bench. “I don’t even know who I am. How can I make someone else?”
“I’ll be here every step of the way,” he assures me. “Whoever you are, whoever you become. It doesn’t matter. I’ll always be here with you.”