24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hudson
We spend the weekend locked up in Trey’s house, showing each other how much we missed one another. And we do it all over the house, christening each room. It wasn’t purposeful, it just sort of happened. I knew I missed him, but after seeing him… it really hit me how much.
We did other things of course, too. We watched movies. Sat in front of the fire. Ate—both the food in the house and ordered in. We also slept a little… not much, but it was still sleep, and it was good. Comfortable.
But today is Monday, and I have to go back to work because I didn’t take time off.
As I see the disappointed look on Trey’s face, I wonder if maybe I should have.
But this is work, it’s my schedule, and this is what I normally do.
I hadn’t anticipated changing my entire schedule for him being here, even though as I leave, I find myself missing him again.
Still, I drive to work and go about my normal business.
The day goes by fine, as typical as a Monday would.
We text back and forth. He sends me photos of him re-arranging things in his house and of a list of things that he wants to get, and asked if I would go with him after work to do it.
I tell him we can and that we could also grab dinner while we’re out.
The idea of being out with Trey doesn’t bother me, but the idea of PDA does make me a little uncomfortable.
And not because he’s a guy, just in general.
I’d feel this way about anyone, not just him.
It’s just one of those things for me and hopefully it won’t bother him…
hopefully he will understand. And I hope like hell it isn’t one of those things he brushes off and blames on the autism.
I’m so used to people blaming that for everything and forgetting that I am still a person underneath.
I can’t let that bother me though. I have to not think about it and trust that Trey wouldn’t judge me like that. But I still think it’s going to be a little voice in the back of my head for the rest of my life. I hate that he knows. Even after everything, I hate that he knows this about me.
Trey is at my house when I get out of work.
“Hey,” I say with a smile, my chest warming at the sight of him getting out of his car.
He smiles back, nearly grinning. “How was work?”
I shrug as I pull him to me, kissing him. “Just work. Same as always.”
We head up the steps to my house and go inside so I can change out of my work clothes.
“Any idea where you want to go for dinner?” he calls out.
“Hadn’t thought about it much. But there is a good Italian place near the shopping plaza. Pasta is usually a safe food,” I say as I pull my shirt over my head and walk out of the room.
There’s a strange look on his face. He swallows hard. “You have safe foods?” he questions.
My chest gets tight, my lungs refusing to work. Did I say that out loud?
Gritting my teeth, I quickly say, “Yeah.”
He knows I’m brushing him off. I see the offended look on his face.
“Well, can you tell me about that?”
I whirl to face him. “Trey, I told you I didn’t want to talk about this.”
“But you brought it up.”
“I didn’t mean to,” I admit. “It just came out and it’s not a big deal. You have favorite foods too. That’s all it is.”
“Hudson—”
“Please, don’t push this,” I say.
We hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, as hard as it is for me. I still do it.
“Okay, sorry,” he finally says.
“I’ll drive.” I grab my things and look at him over my shoulder. “Since you don’t know where you’re going yet.”
He doesn’t say much for the first few minutes in the car.
“I wasn’t home much in Miami to learn my area either, you know.”
“Really?” I ask, coming to stop at a red light.
“Yeah. Though, I guess I didn’t really have a reason to. But I do now.”
“You do?” I ask.
“Yeah, so we can go out to eat. Or I can run to the store if we need something… it’s different here. I want to know the area. I want to do things together.”
I ignore the pang in my chest at the fact that he won’t always be here.
He travels all the time. Sometimes at the very last minute.
That’s going to be hard to get used to, but…
it’s something I agreed to deal with. Trey is a big change in my life all of a sudden.
I’d been going strong with the same routine and expectations for years.
And as difficult as it is sometimes to change my routine, I want to do it because I like being with him.
I like the way I feel about him. I just like us together. So… I’m going to work on it.
I don’t like shopping. I hate stores. They’re loud, crowded, busy, and unpredictable. Typically I order everything I need online and have it delivered, or if it’s convenient, I’ll come by for them to bring it to my car. But I avoid going inside stores as much as possible.
I agreed to come with Trey because I want to do things with him, and if this is something he likes, I want to attempt it, too. And I don’t want him thinking I’m weird because I can’t handle going into a store. I can handle it, it just doesn’t feel good.
The stores today, on a Monday evening, are for some reason jam-packed. There are screaming children, crying toddlers, and customers who think they own the entire aisle.
I’m so focused on keeping myself calm that I barely register what Trey is asking me. Like which color towels will look better in his kitchen.
I can’t even remember what his kitchen looks like right now. I give him an answer though, just pointing automatically.
I can’t be mad at him for not seeing that I’m not having a good time since I’m purposely trying to hide that part to keep myself from spiraling, but I do hate, just a little bit, that he doesn't realize how hard this is for me.
Even though, again, it’s my own fault for not opening up to him about anything. Getting into my head makes me grouchy and I start to feel irritable, which is the last thing I want when we’re about to go out to eat.
“Are you almost done?” I ask when he’s looking at dark blue versus light blue decorations for the tree. He looks at me, brow furrowed, but then his face turns to concern.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Just hungry.”
His eyes narrow slightly. He nods, tossing both packages into the cart and moving down the aisle. I follow him to the cash out area.
“If you want to wait in the car, I’m fine here.”
“I can handle this,” I snap.
His eyes widen. “I never said you couldn’t, Hudson, but you look a little stressed, and if you want to go to the car, go to the damn car.”
Something about his stern tone puts me in my place.
“Sorry,” I mutter, then move through the crowd like a zombie to the car.
Even though it’s freezing, I sit inside without the heat on. The cold air helps calm me and eventually I can breathe normally and think clearly and I feel like an asshole for snapping at him like that.
When I see him coming toward the car, I want to get out and help him, but now I’m ashamed, so I don’t.
One of the issues I’ve always had is being all too aware of my emotions, which makes me over think.
I know when I’m embarrassed or ashamed or angry.
And some may say that being able to name those emotions helps, but it doesn’t.
It just makes me add up all the times I feel those things and keep an ongoing tab of how ridiculous I can be.
Which wasn’t much before Trey because I was safe in my routine, but now… things are different.
Trey pops the trunk and puts everything inside. I sit in my seat without moving or saying a word. When he gets in, I expect an attitude, but that’s not what I get.
“Are you okay?” he asks. “And don’t bullshit me, Hudson. It’s okay if you’re not.”
“I’m fine,” I say.
“No, you’re not. Stop lying.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Telling yourself you’re fine and trying to make yourself believe it doesn’t mean you’re not lying when you tell me you’re fine,” he gasps. “You’re just… double lying.”
I think about that for a minute. My chest is hurting all over again and my skin feels prickly.
“Okay,” I say. “I hate stores. Shopping is a lot. There are a lot of people in there. It was loud. And really fucking difficult to handle.”
He watches me carefully, then says, “Then why did you go? Why not just tell me?”
“Because you wanted to go shopping.”
“Don’t stress yourself out for me, Hudson. I just thought we would have fun together. But if you’re not going to have fun doing something, I don’t want to do it. Don’t think you have to prove yourself to me.”
“That’s not—” I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Okay. You’re right.”
“It’s not about being right,” he says softly, turning in his seat and taking my hand. “I just don’t think either of us should force ourselves to do things because the other wants to. What good will that do us?”
I nod, squeezing his hand.
“Now, can we please go eat? Because I am starving.”
I smirk as I drop his hand and start the car, giving it a few minutes to heat up since the windows are fogged from us talking in here and it being so cold outside.
The restaurant isn’t far across the lot, but I drive us over there because it’s cold, and will only be colder when we finish eating, so I don’t want to walk. I hate dressing in layers, I’d rather be cold, so being out in this weather isn’t great for me.
The Golden Noodle isn’t the best Italian place I’ve been to, but it is good. The inside is basic hard wood floors and red walls with photos of Italy all over the place, even though they have nothing authentic here—they try, but don’t succeed. Either way, it tastes good, and that’s all I care about.
We get seated in a booth, and a waitress is with us right away to take our drink orders. We ask for a few moments to look over the menu, even though I already know what I’m getting.
“What’s good?” Trey asks, his eyes flicking over the lines on the menu.
“I’ve only ever had their cheese ravioli with meat sauce.”
I know what he’s thinking as soon as I say it.
That’s because of the autism.
He looks up at me with a smile, not a single questioning thing in his eyes. “Then I’ll get that too.”
We put in our order when the waitress comes back with our drinks—we each got their house beer on tap, which I already know I like.
I watch Trey as he takes his first sip. He nods as he puts the glass down. “That’s good.”
I smile. “Glad you like it.”
“Hey, Hudson?”
I look over to see Terry, one of the other analysts at work.
“Hi, Terry,” I say.
“It’s so nice to see you. I haven’t been at the office much since they have me watching the live games now, so my schedule is all over the place. How have you been?”
“I’m good,” I answer. “And how about you?”
“Just great,” she says with a laugh. “Oh, this is my husband, Craig.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say with a smile, then gesture to Trey. “This is Trey, my b—”
“Best friend,” he blurts, causing me to frown.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” he says quickly, picking up his beer to take a sip.
“Oh, well, hello,” Terry says with a kind smile. “It was nice seeing you, Hudson. Enjoy your meal. Maybe I’ll get back to the office one of these days and I’ll see you around.”
“Night,” I say, biting back the embarrassment over what just happened.
We agreed we wouldn’t hide… yet, that’s exactly what he did.
I can’t even look at him, so I focus on my beer, watching the little bubbles crawl up the side of the glass and reach the top.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I don’t—I panicked, and I just wasn’t ready—”
“Ready to admit you’re with me?” I ask, glancing up at him.
“It’s not like that,” he says. “This is just new for me.”
“It’s new for me too, Trey, but we said we wouldn’t hide. We agreed. You said it too.”
“I know that, but… I just panicked, okay? I’m sorry.”
My mind is blank. I have nothing to say to him. All I want to say is what I already said. Repeating it won’t make him get it through his head, so I say nothing. The food comes and we eat in awkward silence, though I’m hardly hungry anymore.
When we’re back at his house, I help him bring everything into his house, setting it all on the island in the kitchen.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say.
“You’re not staying?” he asks, disappointment on his face.
I shake my head. “No, I need to go home tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Hudson, I’m sorry,” he says, taking a step forward.
“I know you are, Trey, but… I just need to think about this.”
“About us?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
I leave, the need to get home and take a shower and get into bed, too difficult to ignore. I feel him staring at me as I leave, and swear he’s in the window watching me too. I don’t stop though. I need to breathe and think about what the hell just happened.