Chapter 24 #2
“I thought you said she was a good mom?” Alex’s voice is gentle in a way that puts me on edge.
“I said she was my best friend, not a good mom. Are you coming inside or not?” She nods and walks in, glancing up at me as she slips her shoes off.
“What about your grandma? Was she a good mom?” I nod, staring at my feet as I unlace my boots.
“I mean, yeah, definitely. She was sweet and tough and sharp as hell. I was a handful, and she was super fucking strict, but she loved me a lot.”
“How were you a handful?” I give her a sly look as I kick off my boots.
“I was emotional and had impulse control issues as a kid, so I did a lot of stupid shit. I got into fights, I set fire to an abandoned barn, I ditched school to get drunk at the beach, I crashed my first car into a tree, shit like that. Oh, and I got caught fucking Carrie Osman in the bathroom my freshman year during third period. Twice.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “That one sounds like you,” she says, her voice almost teasing. I can’t tell if she’s making fun of me, but her mood seems better, and I decide to use it as an opening.
“What were you like as a kid?” She looks at her feet and shrugs.
“Uh, normal? My parents were great, but they expected a lot out of me. They were both ambitious, so I had to be ambitious. They succeeded, so I was supposed to succeed.” I frown slightly at her bitter tone.
Was her childhood not as happy as I thought it was?
“I did everything my parents wanted. I took all AP classes, I got straight As, I co-captained my track team, I was president of the art club, I was on yearbook, all of it. I barely partied or dated or had a life. I mean, I drank, but only at home and only alone,” she says in a reassuring tone, as though that’s not extremely fucking concerning.
“My big high school rebellion was that I ditched school once during my sophomore year and got stoned with Tim Klosterman. I let him finger me in his hot tub when his parents were at work.” She glances up at me, blushing a little.
“It was the first time I ever came, but I ended up getting a yeast infection because of the chlorine,” she says, rolling her eyes.
I smile a little, fighting the urge to touch her.
“Was he your high school boyfriend?” She gives me a sheepish look and shakes her head.
“He was someone’s.” I raise my eyebrows at her in surprise.
“Wait, seriously?” She nods, looking a little smug, and I laugh. That doesn’t fit with my idea of her, but I love that she’s sharing all this with me.
She looks almost different to me now, but I don’t know why.
We stand there in the entryway looking at each other, and it feels like the tension between us has finally evaporated. I realize that this is my opening to try to fix things with her, so I step closer to her.
“I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I don’t just want to fuck you and play house, I want this. I want us to be open with each other.” Her face shutters, and she looks at her feet.
“I don’t,” she says quietly. “It makes this harder.”
“How?” She levels me with a look I don’t totally understand before she shakes her head and sucks in a deep breath.
“It doesn’t matter. Listen, Theo, I am so sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to almost hit you, I really didn’t. I’m not like that, I swear.” I nod, glancing away from her quickly, discomfort flooding my body.
“I know. I’m sorry I kicked you out. I just…I don’t like getting hit,” I say quietly, looking back at her after a moment.
She wraps her arms around her waist, her eyes tearing up.
“Me, either.” My heart breaks a little as she looks at her feet to hide that she’s crying.
“I’m so sorry. I really don’t know what happened.
I was so scared and upset, and I got so angry, and I felt like my body moved without me being able to control it.
” I reach for her, resting my hands gently on her shoulders and pulling her closer.
“Honey, I know what it feels like to be that angry, believe me.” Maybe being more open with her is how I help fix her trust issues, so I push myself.
“I got in so many fights as a kid because I only knew how to express anger through hitting people. That’s what Jason did, so that’s what I did, you know?
” Alex looks up at me, her face sad and vulnerable.
“No, I don’t know. Anytime I got angry, bad things happened, so I didn’t get to be angry. Right before I left, I got so drunk and so angry that I screamed at Danny. It was the first time I’d ever really yelled at him, but I couldn’t stop myself because I was so fucking mad.”
“What did you yell at him about?”
She shrugs. “My feelings about our marriage.”
I have to work hard to keep my tone even. “What did he do to you?”
She huffs out a sharp exhale and looks down at her feet.
“He, um…uh, he beat the shit out of me and pulled his gun on me. He told me he’d kill me if I ever spoke to him like that again, and I knew he’d do it, so I waited until he fell asleep and then I ran.
” I step closer to her and gently tilt her chin up so she’s looking at me.
“Alex, you can get angry with me, okay? I’ll never hurt you, I promise.
” She gives me a skeptical look. “I mean it. You’re allowed to be angry, okay?
You just need to start letting yourself feel it and deal with it in healthier ways so that it doesn’t take over your life or keep being an issue in our relationship. ”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “You sound like a fucking therapist.”
I shrug. “I’m basically quoting a therapist. Anger management is huge in prison, for some reason.” I grin at her, and she laughs. I rub my hands up and down her arms, and something inside me unwinds a little as she leans into me slightly.
Holy shit, I think I fixed it.
“You want dinner? I’ll make whatever you want.”
She lets out an exasperated sound. “Should I just start texting you a list of what I want to eat every day?”
I laugh a little, kissing her forehead. “You could do that, you know. I wouldn’t mind.”
“You’re insane,” she says, but it’s teasing and almost affectionate.
***
Alex, wine glass in hand, sits close to me on the couch after dinner. She puts on some horrible reality TV show, but I ignore it. I’m too busy paying attention to the fact that she keeps shifting closer to me until her arm is looped through mine and her head is resting on my shoulder.
Then she starts asking me detailed questions about the show because she can tell that I hate it and she’s trying to force me to watch it with her. She’s being a dick, but she’s having fun with me, so I play along.
She falls asleep in my arms on the couch, and when I take her up to bed, she barely wakes up enough to brush her teeth.
She strips and climbs into bed immediately afterward, humming contentedly as I pull her into my arms. I lie there as she relaxes against me, and my breath catches in my throat as her hand slips under the pillow, her fingers threading through mine before she falls asleep.
It feels more intimate than sex, somehow.