Chapter 12
twelve
Three Weeks Later
If there were a blueprint for the perfect boyfriend, Alek would tick every box without trying.
Despite how wishy-washy I’ve been, he never fails to makes coffee before I wake up.
Keeps track of my meds better than I do.
Notices when a headache is coming before I say a word.
Reads to me when I need to relax. Makes me laugh when I don’t expect it and always lets quiet hover without rushing to fill it with meaningless conversation.
Every day, he makes love to me like I’m the most precious woman on earth. Despite his inexperience, hands down, Alek is the best lover I’ve ever had.
I’ve come so much over the past few weeks I’m beginning to rely on the orgasms to sleep soundly.
Being with him is easy in a way I’ve never known.
It also continues to scare me.
A few weeks ago I couldn’t stand up without the room tipping sideways. Now I’m walking out of my doctor’s office with permission to go back to work. This should feel like a win, and it does, but it also means the current version of my life has an end date.
I’ve been living with Alek like we’re a couple. I treat his apartment as my own with no pretense of being his guest. My jacket ends up on the chair, glass on the counter, shoes by the door. This isn’t my place, not really.
I got hurt and Alek moved me in as part of this crazy scheme. Everything moved at warped speed and I’ve gone along with it.
What choice did I have?
Dinner sits between us, still warm, and I pick at it without tasting much.
He tracks me the way he always does. On alert for any change in my demeanor.
“You seem off.” I hear the trepidation in his voice, which makes what I have to say harder.
Nothing’s changed since our argument. I don’t want to hurt him. I don’t want to pretend either.
“I got cleared to work today.” I smile.
He nods like it’s good news, which it is. I keep going. Stopping won’t let me say what I need to tell him. “I’m excited to get back to normal.”
He stays quiet, waiting to hear what I mean.
“I won’t be here all the time.” I try to keep things breezy. “I don’t need you to devote your entire life to me anymore.”
He doesn’t flinch, but something shifts in his face, small enough most people wouldn’t catch it. “Well, good news.”
“It is.” The words sit between us.
“What happens next ?” he asks.
I don’t have a clean way to explain.
“I know our last conversation was tough,” I remind him, as if he doesn’t remember. “I haven’t known how to plan for the future because I haven’t had a way to earn a living.”
His eyes stay on mine, steady, and I keep going before I lose the nerve. “I adore you. A lot. I’m learning in therapy I don’t know if my feelings for you come from being grateful. Or the proximity has made us grow close. I, uh…don’t really…”
“Hmm.” He leans back slightly, not pulling away. Creating a little space. “You’re still afraid you’re using me.”
“Alek…” I shake my head. “Things haven’t changed.
I’ve never depended on someone before. Not for money, not for anything.
I lost everything and I’m finally beginning to process all of it.
Money’s one thing, but do you know how much it kills me to know I’ll never find my guitar?
It was the only thing I had left of my mom.
It scares me to think of losing even more. ”
He blinks, trying to absorb my words instead of react to them. “You’ll never lose me. I told you how I feel.”
“Alek…” He waits. I can’t say the words back. I need more time. ones. “I’m not there yet.”
My confession pummels him, even though he tries to hold steady.
“Doesn’t mean I won’t be at some point,” I add. “At the same time, I don’t want to lead you on, either.”
“I hoped we were in the same place.” He casts his eyes downward.
I resist the urge to reach for him and soften my words. Make it easier. At the same time, I can’t give anything so monumental back right now.
“We aren’t moving at the same speed.” The words sound weak even as they leave my mouth. “I need to be one hundred percent myself before I can process our relationship and what it all means.”
“Alright.” He nods again, tighter, strained.
The simplicity of his response is a punch to my soul. As much as I’d like to, emotionally and physically, I’m not capable of doing anything but taking care of myself. “I’m going to my room. I need to lie down.”
Alek’s sorrowful gaze follows me, yet he doesn’t hold me back. Though my guilt of deepening his distress is crushing, according to my therapist, I only have one job. Get better.
My head is pounding and I have to rest.
I escape into the bedroom and close the door behind me to create a necessary distance. The room is dim, and I sit on the edge of the bed, pressing my fingers into my temples where the pressure builds.
I lie back and stare at the ceiling and everything comes at once. The Mission. The Market. The sound of my guitar. The way people used to stop and listen.
Gone.
Still out of reach for now. Despite the good news today, my reality is I have nowhere else to go. Nor do I want to.
Alek is a sweet man who stepped in and saved my life. He’s invested thousands of dollars to pay my bills. His employer covered the hospital bills. He’s filled in every gap I couldn’t handle.
I’m struggling. Confused. Can a relationship work if I owe him my life? Even if I haven’t admitted it, it’s hard to figure out if I love him or love the idea of him. Both exist at the same time and neither cancels the other out.
I hear Alek moving in the other room. Ever since our fight, he gives me space without pushing back. He respects my boundaries completely, which might be the hardest thing for me to handle.
I don’t deserve him.
I turn onto my side and close my eyes, but my mind doesn’t settle. I picture the crushed look on his face every time I push him away emotionally. Later, he’ll be horny and so will I. I’ll suck his cock. Let him lick me until I come over and over. We’ll fuck for hours.
Tomorrow, we’ll be back here in this strange void.
I’m not being fair. I’d give anything to know how to hold on to Alek without breaking him. It’s the part of falling in love no one tells you about. The moment when you realize wanting someone doesn’t mean you’re ready to build your entire life around them.
When I sit up again, the headache has dulled and the room feels steady.
I don’t have answers, but I’ve made a decision.
I need to stand on my own again without leaning on him for everything, including sex. Learn how I can give as much as I receive. Both truths sit side by side, uncomfortable and real.
I open the door back to the living room where he’s exactly where I left him, not pushing me past my comfort zone and also not pulling away.
We’re at a crossroads.
I won’t walk away from him.
Never.
It’s up to me to heal enough for both of us.