81. Ambrose—present day
Ambrose—present day
“ O h, tolerating Hawaiian pizza for me. This is a big deal.”
“We’re celebrating.”Celebrating that Dollie’s lump was no more than a cyst, one that had dispersed. No doctor, nurse, or ultrasound probe could find any trace of anything inside her that was malicious. And I’ve been playing on that joke since.
She hasn’t laughed, even after I explained it twice. But she did tell me she found it endearing, between her rehashing of what happened in that hospital room.
The doctor had reassured her that this is common, and I’ve been trying to convince myself since then that I no longer have anything to worry about.
It’s proving to be difficult in my loud head, whenever she goes silent.
Our other reason for celebrating is that we managed to find a sit-down place that’ll serve me—on the first attempt—and we’re only in the next town over.
The best part about that is that I didn’t have to remind Dollie that even eating around here is an issue.
Didn’t have to give her guilt more crumbs to feed on.
Even so, I keep my head low and my hood up, which looks a little anti-social, but given the scars around my mouth, jaw, throat, fingers, and anything else that can be seen, no waiters have asked me to remove it.
We sit in a quiet corner, and I shove in the first bite.
Some things don’t change, because she’s right, even after all these years, Hawaiian isn’t my preferred choice. I mean, it’s hardly a spicy veggie supreme, but Dollie asked to share, and veggies are still out of the question.
“We’re celebrating you, too. You should at least like your dinner.”
“It’s fine.”
“We never lied to each other before. You hate it.” She takes what might be the first bite of food she’s had in days.
On the way here, I brought up the bland hospital breakfasts to lead her into telling me if she had anything better, and she swiftly changed the subject, making me think she hadn’t eaten.
“It’s the best Hawaiian pizza I’ve had in years.”
That’s kinda the truth, as it’s the only Hawaiian pizza I’ve had in years.
Dollie eyes me as she sits at my side, practically glued to me. She takes another bite, knowingly, nudging me each time she directs her slice and puts a morsel in her mouth.
I keep one arm loosely around her because every time I move slightly, she tucks in that bit closer.
She takes another bite, pleasing my nerves. Being this close, it’s easy to see the tension in her jaw, the scrunching of her pretty little face.
“Is your face hurting?”
A few people eyed Dollie on the way in. The swelling on her face has gone down a lot, the purple bruises already turning yellow. They are barely hidden behind a layer of concealer. Each one is still noticeable.
“I’m okay.”
That’s a yes then, and the fact that she didn’t answer the direct question is how I know.
With my stare on her, she takes another full-size bite. Her slow chewing is another indicator of pain.
“We never lied to each other before,” I repeat, using her choice of words, and look away.
My arm starts to feel heavy as I lift the pizza to my mouth, and my eyes feel the exact same way.
The doctors had requested I take things easy, but taking Dollie’s mind off everything that tormented her was more important to me.
I force my trembling hand to stay where it is and shovel the rest of the slice into my mouth as quickly as I can without looking like an animal.
Maybe that motivates Dollie. Either that, or she wants a distraction from her phone buzzing on the table.
Shane’s name appears over and over.
“I broke up with him.” Dollie wipes the crumbs from her mouth with a red napkin. “I’ve been meaning to block him after what he did the day you went into the hospital, but Nyx and I ended up talking, and I guess it slipped my mind.”
“What did he do?” I almost demand. “You still haven’t told me.”
It couldn’t possibly be worse than all these bruises.
“It doesn’t matter.” She shrugs those dainty shoulders, lying to me again.
Her gaze tells the truth as it stays on me, taking in my face.
“Another lie, Dollie.”
Greasy fingers wipe on the napkin before feeling all over my body.
“You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
“Did he tell you I wouldn’t be?” I swallow down my anger with the lingering taste of pizza so that she won’t hear it in my voice.
She nods, that look in her eyes bringing tears to the surface.”He showed up at the hospital, and I left with him?—”
“Why?”
“Because it was on me to end it. It wasn’t fair to Annabelle or Valaria to witness his behavior, and I was ashamed for letting him get away with it for so long.
We had an argument in the car, and Nyx happened to be driving by at the time.
For a minute, I almost chickened out again, but I ended things there and went home with Nyx. ”
I let her finish, hoping she doesn’t feel the heat rising to the surface of my skin, hoping she doesn’t realize the tensing of my body is through anger because I know—I fucking know—it wouldn’t have been as simple as her stepping out of the car.
I get closer to her, my face dips into her neck, where new bruises greet me instantly.
There’s no denying the anger growing inside me. My body feels like stone. Hard and unmovable. Hot blood running cold.
His fingertips stain her neck and my soul.
“When I got home, he called and pretended to be the hospital. He told me you’d died from some kind of blood clot, and I had a breakdown. The reading room was a mess. I was mean to Bubbles. I didn’t hurt her, but I couldn’t have her near me, and?—”
Dollie stops, her phone buzzing again.
“Can I answer it?” Dry words scrape my throat.
“Let’s not add fuel to the fire.” Dollie pulls the phone across the table.
Sixteen messages wait on the screen.
Another flashes as she picks up her phone.
Shane:
I bet you’re with him, aren’t you!
Then more…
Shane:
You couldn’t wait for him to come home to get what you always wanted. To fuck your brother, you dirty fucking slut.
Well, this is us fucking done then. You’re willing to catch what he has. I won’t touch you again.
I have no idea how he knows the things he does. It’s another of those secrets I’d have taken to the grave if I could have.
What does Dollie think?
Does she think less of me?
Would she have let me kiss her, touch her, if she did?
She told me she’d have gone the whole way—she can’t possibly know.
Shane sends another message, something about how dirty and disgusting he thinks I am. It would get under my skin more if it weren’t written by vermin.
Dollie’s eyes turn wide as she quickly tucks the phone away.
Her attention moves back to the pizza, fingers collecting all the small chunks of pineapple—her favorite part—first, before she takes a bite of her selected slice.
Feeling her eyes on me, she whispers, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he’s such an asshole.”
Her hand settles on my leg, her painted nails different from how I remember them—the natural pink, so demure and classy.
“Don’t apologize for him.” My hand covers hers, squeezing lightly.
“No, I have to. He has no right to say those things.” She gazes up at me, so many words unsaid between us.
The ones I hear loudest—she knows, but she doesn’t feel the way he does.
“He found Mom’s diary when he went into their room, and he read so many things.
He shouldn’t know your secrets. And I should never have dated him.
You were right. He’s awful, and it would have been so easy for me to become another statistic. I guess I’m lucky, it’s over.”
It doesn’t sound over with all those messages still pinging from her pocket, but I keep quiet on that.
“Maybe we should get you a matching tattoo.” I let strain take over as I lift my aching arms, wrapping them both around her and pulling her in until she’s in my lap.
“I don’t know. Will it hurt?”
“It’s like a dragging scratch.”
“So, what you’re saying is, I’ve been through worse?”
“Oh, definitely.”
“Okay then. And I’ll even get it in green, so it looks alive.”
“Yeah, yellow will do the opposite. Pink could work, though.”
“No, I’m going to get it green. Like you.”
“I love that.” Nuzzling into her, I’m close to those awful fucking bruises when I whisper something just for her. “Thank you for not letting him get in your head this time.”
This time, when it means the most.
She’s probably able to feel my heart pounding against her body when she moves in my lap, gripping Duggan from her side and squeezing the poor thing around the throat. “I didn’t know if any of it was true. You never told me anything. I mentioned to the paramedics that you might be?—”
“HIV positive.”
There’s a glossing in Dollie’s eyes that wasn’t there a second ago. The wobble of her lower lip and the vibration in her body are new, too.
She leans back into my chest, her head against my racing heart that’ll stop if she says this is too much for her.
“I guess I was ashamed growing up and trying to learn how to process it. I didn’t want to risk you feeling the way he does.”
“I don’t. I wouldn’t ever.”
Relief drowns my worries, yet something, some deep emotion that I can’t shake, maybe acceptance, wets my eyes. “I should have known you better.”
“Yeah, you should have.” She laughs, lightening the mood for just a second before she asks, “You’re not gonna die before you’re like forty or something, right? I wanted to look things up, but I’m too afraid it’ll tell me I’m gonna lose you.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m fine. It’s no longer a death sentence. I have a combo of meds that work really well for me, and for as long as that’s the case, I can live a relatively normal life.”
“You’re healthy?” Her first tear falls, but her lip still quivers long after she gets her answer.
“I am.” My hands meet on her stomach, rubbing the area that always caused her pain. Carefully, I avoid her stoma, but only because it makes her feel self-conscious.
“Oh, thank god.” Her lips find mine.
No worries or second thoughts about what Shane said can be felt as her tongue licks at the seam of my mouth, requesting access.
The gentle moan that dances between our lips makes me harden beneath her. The way her body grinds as she turns in my lap, and how her tongue massages mine, makes me moan, too. My fingers, now on her hips, tighten, pulling her closer.
Her hands do the same on my neck. Those pretty nails trailing up until they rake through my hair.
The waiter at a table close by says something, pulling us both from the moment.
Our eyes meet as we break away, both of us staring at each other, with blown pupils and wet lips.
“It was only meant to be a little kiss,” she pants out.
“Good thing we’re out of sight.”
“Eh, if it had gotten us kicked out, it woulda been worth it anyway.” She wipes my lips with a gentle thumb. She leaves her own wet, calling my eyes back continuously.
Fuck, I want to kiss her again.
I want more than I can ever have, but even with that being true… I want her to know the truth.
“Dollie, for it’s worth, I just want you to know, Shane is wrong.”
“I’m not a dirty slut?”
“Fuck no.” I laugh again, totally caught off guard by how she could even think that. “But also, that you can’t catch anything from me. My HIV is undetectable.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It means my levels are too low for the disease to be passed on. Because of my treatment. If things ever go further than a kiss, you’ll be safe.”
“Ambrose.” Her tongue traces her already wet lips, drawing my attention back to them.
“It wouldn’t change how much I want you.
How your kisses—and whatever else we do—make me feel.
What he did to you doesn’t define you, and neither do the struggles he’s left you with.
I accept everything about you. You’ve accepted so much more.
You’re still my hero. You’re still the person I need when everything feels too much.
The person I’ll need forever and want all my kisses with… and you weren’t even sick this time.”
She’s right.
I don’t feel sick, at all.
Acceptance was the key. Accepting that I was going to be the person she spends her nights—her life—with, no matter what Mom and Dad would think if they were here, it changed everything.
“Now, shall we go and have our first date at a tattoo parlor? Before I chicken out and change my mind.”
My tight lips lead her to ask, “Too soon to say that kinda thing? Will it ever not feel awkward?”
“Probably not. But at least we don’t have the awkwardness of wondering if your parents will like me, which most new couples experience. Well, sometimes, I wonder.”
“No, they loved you. Believe me, they did.” Her head drops.
Talking about our parents is hard for her. It will be hard for her for a long time. It still hurts me, and I’ve had ten years to process it. She’s had days.
I nod, tucking her hair behind her ear and drawing her eyes back to me.
All the truth is there, shining in pretty blues.
And I do believe her… about everything.
“Come on.” I lift her from the seat. “Let’s go get you that tattoo. You can even pick the placement for mine.”
“You’re getting another?” she asks, taking my hand as I step out of the booth.
“I think so.”
“What are you getting?” The words come out with a puff of air as I pull her in a little too hard, our bodies slamming.
She’s fine with it, arms already wrapped around me.
I let my scars ache as I smile down at her. She stains my heart, my soul, my mind. It’s only fair I put her on my skin, too.
“I’m getting a doll. A little doll with pink hair.”