Chapter 8
Chapter eight
The Morning After
When I awake, I’m shrouded in a brightening twilight.
My eyes take far too long to adjust to the room, to the stacked boxes, and scattered supplies.
Slowly, the night comes back to me, the questing, the wanting, the mingling.
The rough texture of a cotton blanket pulls against my skin, and as I sit up, I feel cold, so suddenly cold.
It’s only then that I realize I’ve been draped in the warmth of the man beside me, our bodies intertwined after countless intimate collisions.
A smile tugs at my cheeks so hard I worry it will undo the stitches there that have long since scarred over.
It was real, the conversation, the intimacy, the energy, the way he gave into me, longed for me.
I’ve lived for a century longer than most people born when I was, and I couldn’t have imagined someone like this existed.
That, he, Manny, this amazing creature, existed.
I lower my head to plant a soft kiss on his temple, tasting dried sweat and satisfaction from a long night of hard work, giving himself over to me, pouring himself into me.
As uncomfortable as the blanket is, sharing this too small cot with the gentle giant, I want the moment to last forever. But nothing good in my life ever lasts.
My phone rattles on the tile floor, a heinous racket that causes my giant angel to stir.
His eyes blink open, long lashes giving way to pools of umber brown.
At first, I see something like concern give way to relief before he finally manages to utter something through a tired yawn. “Oh, thank God, I didn’t dream it.”
His sudden, annoying tease of a statement sends me cackling as my phone continues to rattle on the floor. He sits up and looks around for the source of the noise. “Is that mine?”
“No, it’s me.” I reach down, collect my phone, and see it’s V calling.
I also see it’s seven in the morning, and I know if I answer, I’ll probably get a maternal earful that I know V isn’t qualified to deliver.
The moment the call ends, I see it’s only one of ten missed calls and fifteen “where are you?!!!” texts.
Then, as if to prove the urgency of the situation, the call starts again.
“You gonna get that? Seems important,” Manny teases.
I finally relent, sliding up to answer the call. “Hi V.”
“Where the hell are you?! Gabby’s been worried sick!”
I exhale a dry snort at the deflection, the way V can never admit she can just care about someone. “Sorry, Mom, I was out with a friend.”
“What friend? Is Chad here?!”
The utterance sends a sobering chill through my spine. “No! It’s someone else, someone I met at the bar.”
“What bar?” The line goes quiet for a moment as I overhear Gabby try to calm her partner. Then V, slightly more composed but still with a hard edge in her voice, comes back on the line. “Look, are you okay?”
My lips curl into a deep smile as I lock eyes with Manny. “I’m great.”
“Good, do you still wanna go to…wherever we are going later?”
I think about last night, about the vow I made, about my small compromise, about wanting this time with him. I cover the phone and turn to Manny. “Wanna go to an amusement park today?”
Manny looks at me, confused, if not a little slack-jawed. “Uh, wouldn’t have guessed that was really your scene. I mean, I can go. Just, there are better things to do in my opinion.”
His offer intrigues me far more than any amusement park ever could. I move my hand so Gabby and V can hear me again. “Actually, I just checked the forecast today, and it’s supposed to be super sunny out. I was thinking maybe my friend could show us around?”
There’s mumbling on the phone, conversation too distant to make out, before V’s voice returns. “Fine, when you wanna meet up?”
I look at Manny. “Noon?”
His head nods in approval.
“Okay, noon, see you then. I just hope whoever this is isn’t a waste of time like Chad.”
The call ends, but V’s final words stay with me like a knife in my chest. I had just spent so many wonderful moments with Manny, and thanks to that small utterance, suddenly that worthless piece of shit, a guy who probably isn’t even thinking of me right now, is bursting the tiny bubble Manny and I share.
“Everything okay?” Manny’s voice is gentle, concern in his eyes.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” I lie, a tepid smile not quite filling my face.
“It’s just, I recognize that look.”
My face twists at the way he says that, the tightness in my chest finally returning in earnest. “How could you? You barely know me!”
The words come out so angry and forceful, I don’t even know where they come from, I don’t even believe I’m the one saying it, and the moment they are out, I wish I could suck them back in.
“Hey, whoa.” He puts his hands up in surrender, his powerful arms and the thick cords of his muscles supplicating themselves to me in an understanding act that makes me feel all the worse.
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, I-” What do I even say? How do I even explain Chad? How do I tell him anything without making him think I regretted last night?
He gently extends a hand, and instead of taking it, I crumple into his embrace, having nowhere else to go on the too-small cot.
He holds me, a tender embrace that makes me feel so safe even as I reconcile the fact that I just yelled at him.
Finally, he speaks, his voice rumbling out from his chest into my soul.
“All I meant was it was like that first night. You know, behind the bar. You had that same look. I know we are still getting to know each other, but I think there are some things I already understand.”
I choke in a sob. I don’t want him to be understanding. I want him to be an asshole like all the others. “How could you? How could you know what it’s like to always have your body and your mind working against you?”
He holds me so tight as I utter those words, gentle and firm in equal measure, as if he’s trying to pull whatever pain I’m feeling into himself.
He doesn’t say anything for a long while, just letting us both linger in the moment, letting my erratic heart sputter until finally I understand I’m not alone, I’m here with him, my heartbeat slowing to match his. Only then does he finally speak.
“Remember I told you about wrestling?”
“Yeah,” I mutter into the crook of his arm.
“I wasn’t ‘too soft.’” His words come out so sullen, like he’s embarrassed.
“I would get panic attacks. I tried so hard to be the macho wrestler my friends, my uncle, and even my body wanted me to be. But then every time I tried, every time I was about to get on the mat, in front of a crowd of people, I would freeze. I would get panic attacks. My heart would rattle in my chest, I would vomit, and then I would lose. One cosmic joke of a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
His honesty flows off him in waves, an ethereal warmth that fills me, enraptures me with his every word.
He rests his head on mine before continuing.
“Took me a long time to learn I don’t do well in big crowds.
I barely do well at the bar. That’s why I wanted to help you so bad when you stumbled out the back door that first night.
That’s why I recognize that look in your eyes now.
Because I’ve lived it, over and over again. ”
I pull back, trying to reconcile the charismatic Adonis with the tragic figure he claims to be. “But, you’re so, you!”
“Like you said, you barely know me.”
I think back to last night, to the bizarre shift in appearance, how swapping a tight shirt for a large button-down and moving him from one side of the bar to the other could do so much to change my perception of him.
As my eyes trace the smooth lines of his face, even as he struggles to make eye contact with me, lost in shame, I know now is my turn to be brave.
“I have to come clean about something, too. I’m not just here on a girls' trip. In fact, I was supposed to be swearing off relationships for a while, or at least that’s what my friends had suggested. Bad breakup and all.”
He gives me a knowing look, as if I hadn’t dropped enough breadcrumbs until now. His lips purse as he struggles to get out his next thought. “Do you regret last night?”
My entire face shifts, concern and longing fighting for dominance. “No! Never! That’s the most alive I’ve felt since, well, I first woke up! It’s just, things are messy, and you’re amazing, and I don’t know what this is.”
He leans in, planting a soft kiss on my lips before leaning back, his forehead pressing to mine. “Like you told me last night, it doesn’t have to be anything, not unless you want it to be. For now, I’m just grateful I’m here with you.”
His words are so reassuring, yet I worry whether they are enough.