Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
Rome
I knew I had to see her after my little breakthrough with Raina today. Gwen suggested a self-care night, and it was brilliant. I ran to the store to buy all the supplies and found myself waiting outside her dorm building with no time to spare.
Chrissy leads me up the stairs to the third floor. We walk down the hall in silence, but I already feel the tension between us fading. I rest my hand on her lower back as she unlocks her door, soaking in the sensation of having her by my side again. It hasn’t been long since we last saw each other, but with the tension, it wasn’t right. Now, I feel us clicking back into place.
She opens her door, and the room is lit with a warm light she must have left on before leaving today. When I step inside, she closes the door and I take my shoes off.
“So, what do you think?” she asks, and I take in the sight.
Her room is as I imagined it would be, maybe just a tad cleaner. Her bed is pushed into the corner, and it has a white cotton comforter and matching white pillows with a couple of light pink ones for accent. Fairy lights are strung along the wall with multiple pictures of her and her friends. A plant sits in the corner, and it looks well watered and alive. I’d be willing to bet good money that it’s fake. The entire space smells like fresh strawberries with a hint of vanilla bean. I immediately feel at home.
“It’s very you,” I say.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I love it.”
The rest of Chrissy’s tension melts away as her expression lightens and her shoulders drop. I offer her my bag and smile widely when she grabs it with nothing but excitement. She places the bag on her bed and starts to go through it.
“You want to do face masks with me?” she asks in disbelief. “ And watch a princess movie?”
“Duh,” I chuckle.
“This is great, thank you!” Chrissy leaps in my arms and wraps her legs around my waist, hugging me like her life depends on it.
“I’m sorry for everything. For how I reacted, for not trusting you.”
She nods against my shoulder and kisses my cheek. “I’m sorry too. Let’s work on us and forget all about that dickhead.”
I snicker when she pulls back to look at me. “Deal.”
With our face masks in hand, Chrissy strolls into her bathroom, and I follow her. She props herself up on the bathroom counter and tears open the first package. I stand in front of her, looking at the colorful sticky notes on the mirror.
“Everything okay?” I nod toward the mirror, and she looks over her shoulder.
“Oh, those are self-affirmations.”
“Do you say these a lot?” My eyes land on the note that says, “Your hair is beautiful.” And my heart snaps in two.
“Most mornings. I used to get teased in school. Mom made these for me, and we recited them every morning.”
I twirl one of her curls around my finger. “Do you still believe you’re not beautiful?”
She’s silent for a moment, but her response is louder than any words can be. “Sometimes.”
With a soft smile, I kiss her forehead. “You are far more beautiful than you’ll ever believe. I’ll remind you every day.”
With a smile of her own, she holds out her finger, which is dipped in the gray clay face mask.
“Do I get to do you afterward?” I smirk when I realize what I said.
“Yes,” she laughs. “Where would the fun be in that if I did it myself?”
I position myself between her legs, and she begins to paint my face with the mask. It’s cool to the touch, with the smell of witch hazel and something I can’t quite identify.
Chrissy is having the time of her life, like I handed a toddler finger paints for the first time. She lathers on the clay, making sure not a speck of skin is untouched.
When she’s done, she admires me like a painting, and when she’s satisfied, she hands me the next package and ties her hair back. “My turn.”
I take the package and open it with a soft smile.
Looking at Chrissy, I dip my finger in the mask. “Ready, princess?”
Chrissy closes her eyes and snickers. “Paint me like one of your French girls.”
“Oh, you know about them?”
She opens her eyes, and I plop the mask on the tip of her nose, matching her laughter and wide grin.
“Rome Carter!” she squeals.
“I couldn’t help it,” I laugh while smearing the mask over her face. “Now relax. This is supposed to be calming.”
With a few mumbled remarks, Chrissy closes her eyes again and lets me finish applying the clay mask to her gorgeous face. When I’m done, she hops off the counter, and we look at one another in the mirror.
“We look fabulous.”
“Hottest couple on campus,” she deadpans.
Our composure cracks within seconds, and we start laughing.
I wrap my arms around her waist and haul her back into her room.
Once I place her on her bed, she grabs her phone and opens the camera. “Pretty please?”
“How can I say no to that face?”
We take a series of selfies, and it’s not long before the mask dries, and we wash it off, leaving us feeling refreshed with smooth skin. I turn the lights out, and she gets comfortable in bed. I didn’t bring a change of clothes, but thankfully I’m not wearing jeans today.
I watch her as she starts to play the movie I picked up for us to watch. With snacks in hand, she rests her head on my chest, and I wrap my arm around her. She sighs more than once, but none of them sound irritated, more like peaceful and content. As the movie plays, I run my fingers through her curls and close my eyes.
A lot has happened, and I haven’t had the time to process it. Chrissy and I had our first big disagreement, Malik is threatening my chance at being drafted, Dad hasn’t messaged me back, classes resume soon, and the first game of the season is a month away. If I could freeze time, I would. I want to stay in this moment forever. No outside influences or drama. Just us watching a movie about a princess, a man from the streets, and a genie.
“I think this may be my favorite movie.” Chrissy cuts through my thoughts.
“Not Rapunzel ?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
“No, this is my favorite.”
“Why is that?”
“They knew they loved one another and were willing to sacrifice part of themselves for the other. This is forbidden love at its finest.”
I trail my fingers from her hair to her bare arm, tracing random shapes. “And they got their happy ending.”
“They did,” she agrees.
A moment passes before she shifts. She scoots back and looks at me with a wistful look. “Do you think we’ll find our happy ending? Or is that only for fairy tales?”
With a gentle smile, I run my thumb over her jawline. Her skin turns pink under my touch, so I repeat the motion.
“I’m not sure if I believe in happy endings. Not because I don’t want to, but because they’re unrealistic. We’ll face challenges; the universe will always throw obstacles at us because she wants to see us grow. Humans are meant to change and adapt. What would be the point of continuing if we all had a happy ending? I think you and I are stronger than a happy ending. We’ll have our moments where we can’t stand one another, moments when we’re sad, but we’ll have so many moments when we’re happy and in love. And I’m going to remember each and every one of them because my time with you is nothing short of bliss.”
And I mean it. I want it all with Chrissy. The messy, the chaotic, the funny, and the happy. I don’t see myself ever growing tired of her. There is a before her, but there isn’t an after. There can’t be. I refuse to consider it.
She looks at me, her eyes shimmering as tears fill them. When they fall from her eyes, I catch them with my thumb and wipe them away.
“That’s all I want.” Her voice cracks. “You’re all I want.”
I weave my hand in her hair and rest my forehead on hers. “Even though I can be a prick?”
She chuckles and meets my gaze with nothing but love. “You’re not a prick, Rome. You just don’t know when to listen to me, but that will come with time. You’ll learn that I’m always right.”
I’m already learning this important lesson. If I’d listened to her from the beginning, if I had given Malik some of his tasks back, would we be here today? Or would I feel so tired and at a loss? Would Chrissy be in the center of our feud? I can’t say for certain, but I can say that I’m learning.
“And that you make masterful plans,” I say with a smirk, which earns me one in return.
“My plans are foolproof, and you know it.”
“Sure, let’s go with that.”
She punches my arm playfully and is quick to flinch in response.
“I’m going to need to fatten you up,” she teases, and I laugh.
“I don’t doubt that you will. Especially if you stock our future fridge with that fancy Max yogurt.”
“Deal,” she responds with a wide smile.
The thought of us sharing a home one day makes my heart swell. I pull her in and kiss her like I haven’t touched her in years.
“I love you,” I whisper against her lips.
“And I love you.” She returns the sentiment, cementing my place in her life.
She collapses back against my chest, and we finish the movie. Chrissy is quick to fall asleep, and I’m about to close my eyes when my phone vibrates on the end table. Careful not to wake her, I reach for my phone and flip it over, surprised to see a text from my dad.
Sorry for not responding. I’m glad you’re doing okay, can’t wait to watch the first game of the season.
When I see his text, a weight is lifted from my shoulders. He’s alive, he’s okay, and for now, that’s all that matters.
Glad to hear you’re okay. Maybe I can see you soon?
Dad: That would be great. If you let me know when I’ll try to take time off work.
I smile to myself. He’s never visited me on campus, and an idea pops into my head.
Maybe you can come to one of my games? Or if we make the cup?
Yes! Keep me in the loop, but know I’ll be watching from home in the meantime.
We’ve gotten close in the past, but now I have a new form of motivation pushing me. If the team makes it into the cup, Dad will come to a game, which means he will get to meet Chrissy and the crew.
Listen, there’s something I want to say, really quick.
Is everything okay?
I’ve been working on myself and on being a better father. It’s time you knew that I’m thankful for you. You stepped up and did the job of two parents, and it couldn’t have been easy. Thank you for always being there for me. I love you, son.
I have to reread his words before they finally sink in. I swallow hard and type out a response.
I love you too, Dad.
I can’t manage much more of a reply than that. Emotions clog my throat, and my heart hammers in my chest. I close my eyes feeling happy and hopeful for the first time in a long time.