Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“I’m exhausted,” she says, and her voice breaks again. “Every time I think we’re moving forward, something happens, and it’s like the rug gets ripped out from underneath me. I just… I can’t.”
She turns to walk away, turns to leave me like she’s not the air in my lungs, and I reach for her. My fingers cuff her wrist, and she spins to face me.
“I tried to walk away.”
She goes still as our eyes lock, and I need her to keep listening.
“I was pissed, but I swear I only walked up to his door to tell him to keep his distance, and then I was gonna just… walk away.”
It’s my voice that breaks this time, so I pause, needing to keep my shit together so she hears me.
“He kept saying shit about you being miserable, about how you deserved better, and part of me thought he was right. That’s what fucked me up, and I—”
I stop myself again, needing to calm down. At this point, raw honesty is all I have going for me, so I’m putting it all out there, laying it all on the line.
I let her wrist slip from my grasp.
“I saw red. I hate that about myself.” My throat tightens, and I can’t even look at her anymore. “I know it doesn’t look like it right now, but I am trying. You don’t see it because I keep fucking up, but I swear to you. I’m trying.”
My chest heaves as more comes flooding out.
“I’m doing everything I can not to become my father. Everything I can not to become the guy everyone in this city thinks I am. Everything I can not to lose you.”
My eyes sting and blur, but I hold it together.
“Forgive me for taking so long to get it right.”
I feel her stare but still can’t look up. I’m terrified what I’ll find if I do. Disappointment, indifference, disgust.
“I hear you,” she says softly. “And I want to forgive you, but… I’m scared, West. Scared to keep holding out hope, scared to keep thinking things will get better.”
That lands, and I’m ashamed of how I’ve worn her down, stolen the last ounces of hope she had for us.
Deep down, I know I have no right to keep asking her to be patient, but I don’t have a choice. If she goes, I won’t survive it.
“One last chance,” I say under my breath, stepping closer. “Please. I know I don’t deserve it, but please.”
Her eyes are fixed on my hands—the dried blood, the swelling. Her expression softens like seeing the wounds on my knuckles just made this all real for her.
Tension flexes in her jaw before she moves past me, and my heart lurches. My immediate thought is that she’s leaving, but she stops at the sink instead. I stare as she dampens a paper towel, then grabs the first-aid kit from the drawer.
She comes close again. “Sit down.”
I lower onto the chair, and she takes the seat across from me.
My hand warms when she lifts it, examining the gashes on my knuckles.
She dabs them clean with the paper towel, then places a dot of ointment on a square of gauze.
I hold still while she tapes it in place, then she gets up to discard the wrappings in the trash.
She lingers near the counter, clearly avoiding my eyes.
“Your shoulder’s okay?”
I shrug a little. “Okay enough.”
She gives a weak nod.
Another loaded pause, then she pushes off from the cabinet, and I know what this is, know what she intends to do, and I’m desperate to stop it.
“You should get some rest. I—”
She moves toward the door, and I stand, placing my hand gently on her stomach. “I’m not trying to make you feel trapped. I just… can you just… stay?”
She doesn’t respond, and it makes my heart race.
“Tonight,” I clarify. “Just tonight.”
Her eyes slowly lift to meet mine. “After everything that just happened? You think we can just crawl into bed and pretend—”
My eyes fall closed. “No, I’m not asking you to pretend. And I don’t want sex. I just… don’t want to be without you tonight.”
My hand falls away, because I meant what I said. I don’t want her to feel trapped, or like I’m holding her here, and I want her to know I’m not trying to manipulate her into staying. This is about exactly what I said.
I need her tonight.
Period.
“When I was in that cell, what scared me more than being arrested, more than losing my career, was the thought of having to be here tonight while you were somewhere else,” I admit.
She studies me, hopefully seeing my heart through my words. Or better yet, feeling it.
“You can’t keep expecting me to be willfully blind, West.”
I shake my head. “That’s not what this is. I’m just asking you not to quit on me while I’m trying to get this shit right.”
We’re in one another’s space, not touching but that doesn’t matter. It’s like we’re heart-to-heart anyway. The invisible tether that connects us is still so strong.
“I won’t stop you if you want to leave in the morning.”
She draws in a breath and that tether pulses.
“Just stay.”
The silence stretches long, but then she exhales. “One night,” she says, and I’ll take it.
We’re silent as we head upstairs, careful not to wake Grandpa. It’s strange crossing the threshold of our bedroom with her again. It feels like it’s been forever. Too long.
I change carefully because my sling’s still out in the truck somewhere.
Blue does the same, in the closet where she has privacy.
We meet at our bed and slip beneath the comforter carefully.
Like we’ve never done this before, like we’re not allowed, but even with a foot of space between us, this is better than being without her.
We’re silent but not asleep. Her warmth is starting to flow beneath the comforter, and it’s taking everything in me not to hold her, bring her into my side, but… boundaries.
Another stretch of time passes, then she sighs, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“I don’t mind if you touch me,” are the words that leave her mouth, and it’s enough to let me know I’m not the only one who missed this.
I don’t say anything back, just scoot to the middle of the bed as she does the same. Our bodies just click into place like they always have, and this is the first time in a long time that I’ve felt like I’m home.
Because home has never been about a physical structure or an address…
It’s always been about her.
Home is wherever she is.
*
@QweenPandora:
Talk about a fall from grace…
We all knew #KingMidas had his father’s blood flowing through his veins, but I never pegged him as violent.
The footage doesn’t lie, though.
Caught from multiple angles, our golden boy was recorded giving one savage beating to #TheBenchwarmer tonight. You know, the same guy #NewGirl was recently spotted hugged up with on the south side?
Hmm… wonder if the two events are related?
Word on the street is that both #NewGirl’s and #TheBenchwarmer’s vehicles were seen parked outside the center tonight, so I’m just going to ask…
What the hell happened in there?
We may never get the full story, but these images and videos seem like enough to draw a clear conclusion on our own.
I’ll keep you posted as things unfold, but I do have to share another gem that just popped into my inbox as we speak. It’s a lovely mugshot to commemorate quite the eventful evening.
Smile, #KingMidas… everyone’s watching.
Later, peeps :)
—P