Chapter Forty Second Chance #3
He went through another door, and I realized he had his own bathroom. I stood there like an idiot, listening to the water run, because my brain had glitched. I was alone in his bedroom, and he’d asked me to spend the night with him. What was I supposed to do?
A couple minutes later, he came out.
I didn’t want to take my warm-up jacket off in front of him, because I had nothing on underneath. He’d seen me naked, but that was a long time ago.
He seemed to get that too. “Bathroom’s all yours,” he said.
I picked up my backpack and went in. His bathroom was bigger than my bedroom at home. I looked in the mirror—to convince myself I was there, that this was actually happening.
I needed to get changed anyway, so I put on a clean T-shirt and boxers. I’d packed an extra set of clothes because I’d planned to stay the night at Bexley’s.
Back in his bedroom, he’d dimmed the lights but not switched them off.
He’d remembered I couldn’t sleep in the dark.
He was even lying on his side of the bed.
I went around to mine and got under the covers.
They were heavy and soft. High thread count, I’d bet.
I lay on my back, but from the corner of my eye, I saw him watching me.
“You want to talk?” he said.
It had been bothering me all evening. I didn’t deserve to be here. I didn’t deserve his kindness.
“I understand why you dumped me,” I said.
“I should have stood up for you when my parents treated you that way. If they couldn’t accept you, I didn’t want them in my life.
I cut contact with them. I did it on your birthday.
I should have done it a long time ago. Should have done it at Christmas, but I fucked up. ”
I waited for him to say, “I told you so.” Or “Yeah, you did fuck up.”
But what he said was, “I’m the one who fucked up.
I cut you loose because I wasn’t mature enough to help you deal with your parents.
I used to cut and run whenever I got the feeling someone was rejecting me.
That’s how I learned to be, after my parents threw me out.
When we filmed episode 8 of the show, Joel and Casey helped me understand.
No one had ever been there for me before that, so I didn’t know how to be there for you.
I wasn’t fair to you. You deserved better.
I’m so sorry, tapper. I should never have left you. ”
I started crying. Not big sobs. I’d gotten all that energy out a long time ago.
Just quiet, eyes streaming, glad the lights were dim so he couldn’t see.
This hurt in a new way. Because I’d dreamed of him coming back to me and forgiving me for so long.
But when it didn’t happen, I’d started to accept that it never would.
So much time had passed, and I’d changed, and the space he used to fill inside me wasn’t shaped exactly like him anymore.
It had started to fill in with me, being on my own.
“Do you want to hold me?” he said, uncertain, like he was afraid I’d say no.
He rolled over so he was facing away from me. I looked at him, blinking, then I moved under the covers toward him, like I’d done, so many times, so long ago. I put my arms around him and my knees fit into the backs of his like they always had, and I pressed my face into his hair, and I held him.
It wasn’t quite the way it used to be. I wouldn’t say there was anything about him that I didn’t love, but he felt different.
“You’ve got abs,” I said.
He used to tell me I shouldn’t feel self-conscious about not having abs, because he didn’t have abs either. But now he did.
“They assigned me a personal trainer for work. I can stop working out once the show’s done.”
“My hands used to sink into you.”
“I liked it better when I didn’t have to work out. But it’s part of my job.”
“You smell different too.”
“I use this new European body wash Joel gave me.”
“And your shirt.” I crumpled the fabric. “Feels expensive.”
“Yeah, I have to keep up appearances now I’m on a national show. Hang on.” He pulled away from me and got out of bed. And even though he felt different, I didn’t want to let go of him.
He must have read my mind.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He went over to his bureau and pulled off the shirt he was wearing, got another out of the drawer, and put it on. Then he came back to bed so I could hold him again.
“This is the shirt you fixed for me,” he said. “Way back when. Remember?”
“You kept it.”
“You fixed it for me. I wasn’t gonna throw it away.”
I felt the shirt between my finger and thumb. “This is the shirt you were wearing when I gave you that blow job in the car up north.”
“I remember.” He laughed quietly. “Jerked off to that a few times.”
I felt him stroking my arm with his thumb. I’d forgotten he used to do that. How could I have forgotten?
His thumb encountered my bracelet.
“You kept it,” he said.
“Yeah. It was like carrying a piece of you with me.”
Things couldn’t go back to the way they’d been. But that wasn’t a bad thing. The status quo hadn’t been good for either of us.
“Still you?” I said.
“Still me.”
I squeezed him tight. At the heart of it, we were still us.
“Good night, Eddie.”
“Good night, tapper.”