Chapter 32 #2
“So, tell me more about you, Ty. What’s your family like? Where are you from?”
He seemed relieved that I’d picked a topic. “So, I’m originally from San Jose. I’m an only child. My mom’s a nurse, and my dad’s an ENT specialist. Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to work in medicine.”
“I love that,” I said. “Sounds like your parents are great people.”
“Well, they’ve always been so supportive. Part of the reason I stuck with it so long is because of them. I only have one year left now, and I’ll be graduating. They’ve always urged me to keep going, thankfully.”
“That’s wonderful,” I replied softly, my gaze fixed on the stars. I felt a pang somewhere deep in my chest. Longing, maybe? To have a situation where my parents supported me—it felt like a broken dream, an impossible wish.
“What about your parents, Hope? Do you have a close relationship with them?”
I hesitated, unsure whether I should be honest. Was it too heavy for a first date? I shifted uncomfortably on the blanket, unsure of how much to say. “Um, not really,” I replied vaguely, my voice barely above a whisper. “We don’t have the best relationship.”
His brow furrowed, but he seemed to sense my reluctance to talk more about the subject. “I’m sorry if I’m prying,” he said gently. “You don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.”
“No, it’s okay,” I assured him quickly, offering a small smile. “It’s just, complicated.”
I’d never really confided in anyone other than Emily about all the stuff with Dr. Pike and my dad. But I didn’t feel brave enough to speak about it again now.
As we sat side by side under the vast expanse of the night sky, I felt a pang of guilt.
Tyler’s openness about his family contrasted sharply with the walls I’d put up.
I wanted to talk to him, but the thought of burdening him with the intensity of my situation seemed somehow selfish.
Also, speaking about my anxiety was always nerve-wracking.
It was a side of me that felt uncontrollable, and I knew there was a stigma surrounding mental health.
I didn’t doubt Tyler would be kind, but would it change his view of me?
Tyler reached out, his hand brushing against mine on the blanket. “Hope,” he murmured softly, breaking the silence. “Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to face it alone.”
I looked over at him, the sincerity in his eyes stirring something deep within me. For a fleeting moment, I considered opening up, letting down my walls, and allowing myself to talk with him. But the words caught in my throat, choked down by my own insecurities.
“Thank you, Ty.”
He smiled, and then, as if on cue, leaned in toward me.
The world slowed as I realized what was happening.
My heart skipped a beat, anticipating the kiss that followed.
His lips brushed gently against mine. Nothing pushy or demanding.
I considered it a polite kiss, a mere introduction to something more.
I prepared for him to deepen the kiss, enjoying the feel of his soft lips against mine and hoping for more.
We were completely alone here, with no risk of interruption.
But just when I thought he might press his lips to mine again, more intensely, Tyler pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine for any sign of discomfort.
“Can I touch your waist?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with concern.
I blinked, caught off guard by the question. I nodded slowly, a faint blush coloring my cheeks. “Yes, of course.”
His hand came to rest gently on my waist, his touch tentative yet warm. He leaned in again, kissing me with a bit more intensity, but still very gentle and tender.
When I made a little sound in the back of my throat, Ty stiffened and pulled back.
“Is this too much for you?” Tyler asked softly, pulling away again, his hand still resting lightly on my waist.
I froze, torn between my appreciation for Tyler’s respect and my conflicted emotions. The involuntary sound that had come from my throat hadn’t been because I wanted him to stop. I actually wished he’d really kiss me.
Maybe I was high maintenance. Maybe I was delusional from reading too many novels. But I wanted to be kissed. Like, really, really kissed.
“No, it’s okay,” I replied, forcing a reassuring smile. “I just…”
Tyler pulled back, withdrawing his hand and sitting back slightly. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”
He was taking this entirely the wrong way. All the signs I was giving him were being massively misinterpreted.
I struggled to find the right words without ruining the moment. But then I realized that was pointless, because the moment was pretty much already crumbling to pieces.
“No, I’m not uncomfortable. I appreciate you asking if I’m okay. It’s just, I sort of was hoping—” I trailed off. Why did asking him to kiss me harder seem so weird?
I loved a sweet kiss just as much as the next person, but I wasn’t opposed to a little teeth and tongue, a kiss on the neck or two, maybe even a hand traveling to the point just before going too far, eliciting a longing that bordered on madness.
Tyler nodded, his expression softening. “I understand,” though I wasn’t sure he did. His thumb brushed over my hand comfortingly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel rushed.”
The butterflies in my stomach weren’t just disappearing now.
They were dying. One by one, all the butterflies spontaneously expired, forming a heaping pile of dead butterflies in my gut that made me feel physically ill.
The urge to leave as soon as possible was suddenly overwhelming.
I couldn’t sit there and pretend with someone I just wasn’t feeling it with. He didn’t deserve that.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured finally, breaking the silence. “I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”
“It’s okay, Hope,” Tyler assured me with a warm smile. “Let’s just take things at your pace, okay? I’m here for you.”
I inwardly winced, realizing I would need to address the situation.
But right now, I didn’t have the heart to explain everything, and I honestly just wanted to go home.
I would have to talk to him sometime over the weekend.
Hopefully, he would still be open to remaining friends, because I still liked Tyler as a person and didn’t want to lose his friendship.
But this night—this moment—had officially confirmed for me that this wasn’t going to work.
“Could we maybe head back?” I asked, trying to keep my face positive even though I felt mentally and physically drained. “I’m just getting a little tired.”
“Of course,” he said, smiling as he stood up, collecting the blanket and folding it beneath his arm. “Let’s get you home. It’s getting late.”