16. Graham
GRAHAM
THEN
July, Year One
Older pastel bungalows and stark modern structures shared prime, waterfront real estate near the coast. Their patios, each unique in aesthetic, ended within feet of the shallow canals laid out in a grid.
Miguel lagged behind me on the sidewalk in the historic neighborhood.
He’d been quiet since we left my house, maybe because midnight was long past his bedtime.
“Over here,” I said. At a break in the long hedgerow along the water, I crouched to study the knot in the rope tied to a wood post.
Shoes scuffed the pavement as Miguel picked up the pace. When he caught up to me, he cursed under his breath and whispered, “I’m not helping you steal a boat.”
“We’re not stealing it. I got permission from the owner.”
My manager lived in the neighborhood, and he offered to let us use his rowboat.
A romantic, moonlit ride through the canals was the perfect way to launch my apology tour.
The film I’d been working on for eight weeks was shot locally, but the long hours left little time for Miguel.
Despite my hectic days and wacky sleep schedule, he stuck around. I preferred to keep it that way.
With the intricate knot figured out, I turned toward him, and my smile was instant.
I liked that he dressed for every occasion.
After I’d mentioned we were spending time at the coast, he showed up at my house wearing white linen shorts, tan boat shoes, and a blue floral shirt.
The shirt was untucked for a change, and he was fidgeting with the bottom button.
“Why are you nervous?” I asked.
He shifted on his feet, eyeing the watercraft. “I’ve never been on a boat. Don’t we need life jackets?”
“The water’s shallow, and I’ve seen you swim dozens of times. But if we tip over, I’ll save you. Come on,” I said, holding out a hand.
He stared at it for several breaths and looked over his shoulder. “We could be seen.”
Most of the residents were probably asleep, and anyone who happened to be watching would think we were two friends hanging out.
I even left my hat in the car to avoid looking suspicious and drawing attention.
But Miguel wouldn’t risk the chance of someone discovering my secret, no matter how much I assured him we were safe in the dark.
Wiggling my fingers, I tried a different tactic. “I’m making sure you don’t fall in.”
He took my hand and stepped into the boat, yelping when he moved too fast and rocked it. I kept him steady until he dropped onto the stern seat and hugged his knees.
As we drifted away from the bank, I wrestled with the oars to get us pointed in the right direction, then rowed at a slow, even pace to get him acclimated.
The patio lights on either side of the canal painted a colorful halo around his silhouette while he studied the houses.
A crease marred his brow, a worrisome sight when he was usually giddy over unique designs.
We were surrounded by them, which was the reason I brought him there.
He should’ve been smiling, not frowning.
I gently prodded for the source of his concern. “Something’s bothering you. Is it my work? I know it takes up a lot of my time, and it’ll be even harder on us when the shoots aren’t local. We could be apart for months, unless you’re willing to fly out and visit me for a weekend.”
“Why do you put up with me?” he asked.
My mouth opened and closed, searching for an adequate response, but I could only come up with the truth. “I don’t understand the question.”
He grunted—a pained, frustrated sound—and stared at his knees. “While you were filming, I had a lot of time to think about us. About where our relationship is headed.”
My heart went berserk. Code red. The romantic high I’d been riding plummeted from the sky with no parachute. Nothing good ever came after the part where the boyfriend said he had time to think.
If he decided hiding with me wasn’t what he wanted after all, I would’ve been devastated.
But I couldn’t blame him for coming to his senses.
Several times, I’d been tempted to ask if he changed his mind but held back, afraid of the answer.
Even now, instead of responding to him or pleading a case for our future, I kept my mouth shut and rowed, letting him steer the conversation.
His voice remained low, a trembling hush the water couldn’t carry away from us.
“I’ve had one relationship. We met in college.
Everything was good until he graduated and got a corporate job.
Then he took me to a party to meet his coworkers and boss.
” Miguel made himself into a tiny ball, resting his chin between his kneecaps.
“That was the first night he told me I was too much. Too emotional, too flashy, too opinionated and high-maintenance. By the fifth time he said I’d embarrassed him in public, I believed him. ”
I hated this ex-boyfriend for making Miguel cower from only a memory. As I watched his fingertips coast up and down his shins in a self-soothing motion, it took all my strength to stay silent and not reach out.
“I did everything to please him. Controlled my emotions. Kept my opinions to myself. Rolled over and”—he dragged in a shuddering breath—“rolled over and took it the way he liked without complaint.”
“Miguel,” I choked.
His hand shot up. And while he refused to look at me, his message landed hard and with finality.
There was nothing more he would say on that subject tonight, possibly ever.
Miguel spoke his most painful truth, answered my question about who hurt him.
I had no right to explore the depths of his pain.
As much as I wanted to pull him into my arms and offer all the comfort his ex-boyfriend denied him, I didn’t. For his sake, I pressed my lips together, fought back the tears, and steered the boat into another canal.
I’d always equated water with peace. Even crashing waves could evoke a sense of calm from a distance. In that moment, the oars dipping in and out of the canal sounded loud, obnoxious. Each little splash threatened my sanity as I waited for Miguel to blow out a quivering breath and continue.
“For two fucking years, I reduced myself, trying to become an acceptable partner. I even started dressing like his coworkers. Can you imagine me in a polo shirt? Horrendous.” He scoffed, the fire in him rekindling, and I’d take his anger over his sadness any day.
“In the end, I was still too much. He left me with a shit-ton of insecurities and nothing else. My confidence was gone. My desire for sex was gone. The pride my family instilled in me was gone. I don’t know if I’ll ever gain all of it back.
” As he hugged his knees, a tear fell from his cheek and landed on his forearm, followed by another.
“My ex was right about some things, though. I’m needy and disagreeable and difficult—always have been.
I’m not an easy person to love, Graham. Wouldn’t you rather have easy than this?
” He flicked a few fingers, gesturing to himself.
I shook with fury and heartbreak, but managed to stow the oars without getting him wet. Scooting to the edge of my seat, I pried his hands from his legs and secured them in my grasp. He didn’t fight the connection.
“That asshole didn’t deserve you. He felt reduced by your individuality.
Making you feel less than made him feel better.
You’re not too much or too difficult, not for me.
I already know I love everything about you, even the parts I haven’t seen yet.
And I can’t stress this enough…I love you, Miguel. ”
He turned his head away, but I wouldn’t be deterred from speaking my truth.
“I don’t need you to say it back, but like you, I’m a needy person.
And what I need is for you to believe I’ll never ask for anything you’re not willing to give.
I’ll never handle you with anything but care, and I’ll never be embarrassed of you or ask you to change.
I need you to be the realest version of yourself, always.
Because if you’re unhappy, where does that leave me? ”
He sniffled before looking at me with pleading, wet eyes. “It’s only been a few months. You could change your mind once you know me better.”
“I won’t. Cross my heart and hope to die a very old man with you at my bedside.”
Even his wobbly, tentative smile felt like a precious gift. But as he stared at our joined hands, the smile fell away. “I’d give anything to kiss you right now.”
“Me too.”
We had drifted near the bank. Reluctantly, I let go of him and reclaimed the oars while scanning our surroundings. I couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean the residents lurking behind darkened windows couldn’t see us. Up ahead, a footbridge spanned the canal, and a plan came together quickly.
“Hold that thought,” I said.
He clutched the sides of the boat while I paddled faster. As we glided beneath the bridge, I maneuvered the boat to one side, where the shadows were almost pitch black. It took a minute to get us situated, and my patience wore thin, but the reward would be worth the effort.
The boat jerked to a stop on the grassy bank. I crammed the oars inside and lunged, grabbing his head with both hands. Then I kissed him, in a tiny boat hidden in the darkest shadows but out in the open. The best part, though? He kissed me back, throwing all his cautious ways to the wind.
His tongue thrust against mine. His fingernails dug into my arms. My moan was loud and gluttonous, and I prayed it would drown in the water before reaching anyone’s ears.
We were on borrowed time, and I used every second to reiterate the truth of what I knew. There was a reason he was too much for anyone who came before me. Miguel was always meant to be mine, and he was the perfect amount of everything I could want or need.