35. 35
35
When Barrett awoke, he stared out his skylight at a dawn sky feathered in magenta and indigo, struck by the pleasant notion that, for the first time in many years, he was not waking up alone.
Reaching the other side of the bed, his hand fell through the space where Chastity should have been, patting fabric no longer warm from the touch of her body, now cold, vacant. The idea that she might have once again fled in the night without so much as a goodbye physically pained him.
Before his mind could wander further, he heard the sound of feet pattering against the wood floor on the other side of the studio apartment. He wiped his hands down his face, feeling the drain from the long night of meaningful sex that had wrung every ounce of energy from his body.
He grabbed a pair of boxers from his dresser and slid them on. As he did, he saw Chastity pacing in front of the wall of windows. He approached, seeing her lost in thought, watching the sparkle of sunlight dance off her tear-streaked cheeks.
“Chastity?”
She jerked her head in his direction, face heartbroken and distraught. Whatever it was that was bothering her, his brain wanted to wrestle it into submission, inflicting ten times her pain on whoever made her feel like this.
“What’s wrong, baby? Is it… your parents?”
Chastity shook her head, crossing her arms over her breasts, now covered in one of his wrinkled T-shirts. Under different circumstances, he would be turned on seeing her wearing his clothes with nothing beneath them. But her swollen eyes made him upset.
She turned, and he wrapped his arms around her. A sob broke free from her chest as she clung to his shoulders, pulling him closer.
“Did I do something wrong?”
Again, she shook her head, body weak in his fatigued arms. Gently, he tilted her chin up. Her skin was soaked with tears.
“Talk to me.”
After a moment of silent contemplation, she uttered the words she knew she would replay in her head for months, if not years, with a sad regret.
“I can’t do this.”
His heart sank.
Her eyes and her tone made it clear she had made up her mind. He could feel her warmth slipping away.
“I don’t understand. What did I do?” he asked frantically, holding her hand to his chest. “Let me fix it. Whatever it is, I can fix it.”
“You can’t fix it. It’s not yours to fix, Barrett. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She sobbed.
“Please… talk to me, Chastity.”
She straightened her back and looked at him, eyes suddenly hard. “Barrett, I care about you. I really do. But… it’s not the right time for this. For… us.”
He nodded, trying to retain some dignity. “Alright. What is this about, Chastity?”
She forced her tone to stay even. “I have to make some really difficult decisions. About my life. About my bipolar and my medications. About my career and my future. Barrett,” a tear fell from her eye, “I can’t be your girlfriend… because I don’t even know who I am .”
“That’s—”
“Barrett, you haven’t seen the real lows . You have barely seen me in my highs. I’m in debt, did you know that? When I am manic, I spend. I know now that I was manic at college. Now, I can feel myself on the down-slide. This is going to be rough. I have to do something. I want to do something so I can one day have a life like this , somewhere in that sweet spot between Heaven and Hell. But, until then, I’m in this bipolar purgatory, endlessly bouncing between the two. I can’t hide from it anymore. I don’t want to. I want to explore what is out there so that I can feel better and make a real life out of all this mess. But it’ll take some time. It’s not an overnight fix. I don’t expect you to wait around for that. I don’t even know if I’ll be the same me when it’s all done.”
She squeezed his hand, and the angered look on his face softened.
“I’m absolutely terrified, Barrett. I can’t be who you need me to be or who you think I already am. I can’t be who I want to be… for you . I just lost my parents. The thought of diving headfirst into a real relationship and then losing you is unbearable.”
“You wouldn’t lose me. I’m here. I want you. I want all the fucked-up-ness that might come with you.”
That made her laugh. She sniffled, and then she frowned and sobbed into the back of her hand.
“Chastity, if you don’t want this right now… it fucking crushes me, but I can respect that. I care about you. But… please, baby, don’t shut me out completely. I’d rather be around you, helping you through this, than just have this empty Aphrodite-sized void. I’ll give you all the space you want, but please don’t count me out completely. You could use someone cheering you on from the stands, even if you want to just be… friends… or whatever. Just let me be there for you.”
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she nodded.
“I am so sorry, Barrett.”
“Don’t be.” He fought the tears in his own eyes. “I’m not sorry about our time together. I don’t regret a second of this. Take the time you need, but know I’m here. You don’t have to do everything alone.”
“Thank you.”
He shook his head and mustered a sad laugh.
“What?” She wiped her face.
“You really are so stubborn, you know that?” His heart broke a little as the words left his mouth.
They dressed in silence, and Barrett drove her back to the Rabbit Run apartments without uttering a single word.
What could he possibly say?
Her decision felt firm. Decisive. Painful and wise in equal measure. She needed to get her shit together, a feeling Barrett was all-too-familiar with.
As he walked her to the complex doors, he wrapped his arms around her, eager to feel her body against his for just a moment longer. The more he wanted to hold her, to embrace her tightly, to beg for her to change her mind… the more he knew he shouldn’t. Love was wild and feral, like Smoky. He knew that the harder he held it, the faster it would all just slip through his fingers.
As he sat in his Jeep, engine purring, he wished he had told her what he felt, the ones he had never uttered to a woman before.
I love you.
Maybe he had missed his chance.
Whether he said them or not, the sentiment was true.
He was in love with her. And for a moment, she had been his to cherish, his to cling to, and that had to be worth something, some small consolation.
Maybe this wouldn’t be permanent. Maybe, like Smoky, if he kept the window open, she would one day return and stay a while.