33. Eric #3
I keep my eyes on the rope in my hands. I loop it absently, my fingers moving. Her tone is not flirtatious, but there’s certainly something there.
“I just want to feel… safe. And we could experiment. See if it feels okay?”
The offer thickens the air around me, casual tone and yet suggestive in a way that makes me taste bile in my mouth.
It lands between my lungs, and my mind recognizes the pattern I’m familiar with. Escape and avoidance to prove that I’m undeserving. I’m not lost in a fog of bad habits, though. I don’t want to prove I’m a failure.
I want the opposite.
And my own words follow that determination.
I touch no one but you. No one touches me but you.
And when I glance back at Kayla, relaxed but guarded, green eyes shining with hesitation, they’re not the right shade.
And it doesn’t matter either way because…
I’m with Amanda. She’s key in this decision, of course, but a weight lifts off my shoulders because it’s me choosing to break a pattern.
I know that at times I failed, but I am not a failure, and I don’t have to fail now.
I let the rope fall from my hand and unhook the clip from my harness. “No, I’m not doing that.”
Her gaze flickers to the ground, and when she looks at me again, there’s determination. “What if you return, and all of this still hasn’t helped you?” She shifts her stare to the harness around my hips. “And she doesn’t want someone who can’t—”
I stand up and rub my hands to shake the chalk off. “I’m with her. That’s all you need to know.”
I pull the knot loose and let the rope fall between us.
“Do you ever wonder if she deserves you?” she whispers.
I shake my head. “Not anymore.”
Because it’s finally clicking at this moment—it’s mutual. I want to deserve her and she wants to deserve me. And with all our cards on the table, we finally do. Meaning… I can go back to her.
I grab everything that isn’t still hooked to her. “I should check in with the rec staff,” I say. “Before lights out.”
I don’t look back to see if she watches me go.
Once I’m in the dorm building, I put a request for Val to hop on a call with me right away. In my room, I log on right away to the secure link, and Val joins a few minutes later. From Diego’s bedroom.
“I’m ready to go home.”
“That’s not entirely your decision.” She purses her lips. “You just started week five. You have eight days to go.”
“I want to be with her at the cabin.” I hold Val’s gaze and put my palms up. “I’m also ready.”
She crosses her arms and squints at me, allowing me to elaborate.
I don’t, at first. Because for the first time since I started talking to Val. This feels mine, my revelation, my progress.
I exhale because I want to leave more than I want to keep it inside. “One of the women from the group suggested something. A kind of… experiment.”
She nods slowly, her posture changing into angles and rigidity. “And how did that make you feel?”
There’s not even a ghost of a sympathetic smile on her lips. No teasing remark about temptation. We’re going straight into the aftermath and consequences. Guilt. This is her I hate my patient face.
For fuck’s sake. She thinks I took her up on it. “I didn’t touch her, alright?” I raise my voice, chest rumbling.
Val leans forward slightly. “You said no for Amanda.”
“Yes and no,” I say harshly. “I’m Amanda’s, yes. But I also said no for me.”
Val and I stare at each other through the computer screen in quiet defiance. Until she exhales and smooths her features in understanding.
“And you think you’re ready now?” She crosses her arms. “Because you’re still not done healing.”
“Of course not.”
She nods, lips pressed in a thin line, the corners just barely lifted. “You feel good about this today, but there will be days when you won’t.”
“I know that, but I-I”—I trace my tatt over my shirt—“feel able to hold myself together now, broken pieces and all.”
“Saying no wasn’t just about fidelity. It was about not punishing yourself for things you can’t change.
You’re looking at getting right what you can.
” Val takes her glasses off and with wide, soft eyes she adds, “You healed a bit today, Eric.” She taps at the desk.
“We’ll keep working. Three times a week.
You’ll need a different therapist for sessions with Amanda.
We’ll scale down from there. But Eric? It’s time to come home. ”
My eyes go wide. “She’s twenty-nine weeks today.”
“Do you want me to send her a voice note?”
I nod. “And I need one of you to pick me up. I want to meet her at the cabins for Labor Day weekend.”
“Diego!” Val shouts. “Change of plans.”
He opens the door, standing in the doorway. “I’m picking Eric up on Friday. We’ll meet you and the group at the cottages that night.”
Diego lights up. He leans into the camera and kisses the screen. “You’re okay, man?”
Val swats him.
“I guess I’ll see you all Friday,” I say.
“Yes, you fucking will.” Diego grins.
Before we hang up, Val records me saying, “He’s the size of a butternut squash.
I’m keeping all my promises.”