Chapter 19
19
I leave the church. I’m thrown into the rush of the city, and the more I think about my plan, the more my confidence begins to dwindle. Something about tall buildings makes me feel so small, even though it’s us small beings who built them to be so tall. Is all that matters that I’m happy? What about Jae?
Surely he will get sick of my grief sooner or later. And then he’ll leave, and I’ll be alone again. A person can only take so much crying and hyperventilating and panic.
Every day is the worst day when you’re dreading the next.
Even just thinking about telling him I love him makes me want to crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again. Even though it’s all I’ve been thinking about for the last twelve hours.
Even though it is true.
Imagine if Grant heard you that love someone else. He’d never forgive you for loving another. Or is it you who’d never forgive yourself?
Imagine if you had to choose. Just like in your dreams. You can only pick one. The dead man or the one who is here. You just have to be brave enough to choose.
Imagine if …
Imagine. And on the train ride home, imagine was all I do.
Different scenarios in which Jae walks out on me. In the morning. In the afternoon. In the dead of the night, with all his bags packed like a teenage runaway. We’d be fighting after a long night, or he’d get tired of me looking at old photos and memories, and say he’d had enough. He’d leave me all alone again. But still, this is only my second to worst fear.
My worst fear is if his way of walking out is being dead.
I couldn’t take another funeral. I couldn’t take another casket. I couldn’t take another health scare. Not that I wouldn’t, but I couldn’t. There isn’t a scenario in which I think I could be okay if Jae died. He is the first person I’ve let in since Grant died. Him being gone would crush me in the worst way.
I’ve already spent so much of my life being sad. I can’t spend the next part of whatever is in store for me being sad. The thing about opening yourself up to another person, is that you actually have to stay open. You are not a door. You cannot open and close at will. I love him and I want to be with him, but the vulnerability that comes with it is a thousand knives in my carefully arranged armor. I know I love him. I know I can’t do this a second time. The answer was seemingly simple.
I die before him.
Unfortunately, death is not the kind of thing you can arrange.
My mind doesn’t know how to grapple with this kind of uncertainty and before I can do the worst and start crying on the subway, I open my phone and text Jae. I will confess and deal with the repercussions after, self-inflicted or otherwise.
Can you come over before the dinner service? I’ll be home in 10.
I’ll see you in 20.
It’s only 3:10 when I get off the train, so I stop at the corner shop on my way home and pick up real groceries. Apples and carrots and peanut butter fill my basket. On a whim, I purchase a pie crust and as many little limes as I can carry.
I barely lug the stuffed bags into my lobby, my granny cart long forgotten in the corner of my apartment, and unlock my door one handed. Lily greets me happily, and I’m happy to see her too. I dump my groceries onto my kitchen island and bend down to scratch her head.
I’m startled when my door swings open and Jae appears in the doorway, dressed in his chef uniform.
“Hey!” He closes the door behind him and crouches down to my eye level. He scritches Lily lovingly. “How are you? What’s up?”
“I’m making dessert.” I gesture at the ingredients for a key lime pie piled on my countertop.
We stand and Jae wraps his arms around my waist. “Good thing. I’ve been craving a key lime pie and a kiss on the lips.” He places a soft kiss to make his point. “My girlfriend is the best.”
I feel the doubt and grief crop up in my chest like seeds in the soil.
Girlfriend. The last time you were somebody’s girlfriend, he died. But it wasn’t his fault. Cancer doesn’t discriminate.
“So, I looked at a place in Gramercy today.” Jae tells me.
I falter in his arms. What’s to say that won’t happen now?
“Are you sure you want me to be your girlfriend?” I ask him, doubt riddling my voice like static.
“What?”
“I’m just…” I don’t know how to say anything without word vomiting all of my grief, doubt and insecurities. So that’s exactly what I do.
“I just am worried one day you’ll get sick of my shit and leave me. So maybe it’s better we don’t label anything.”
“Why would I leave you?” Jae asks, concern anchoring his voice.
“I’m a nervous wreck. I can’t remember what my personality is supposed to be. I can’t remember who I am anymore, and I feel like an inconvenience to you and the world.” Big tears tremble at the edge of my eyelashes. “Look at me, I can’t even say I’m your girlfriend without freaking out!”
“Riley, what are you getting at?”
I am already hyperventilating, and it’s only been a minute since he walked in.
“Riley.” Jae steels me. “Look at me.” He gestures his chest upwards, and then downwards. We breathe together, in and out. “Now tell me, what are you worried about?”
“What I’m trying to tell you, is that I want to be your girlfriend. But something about my grief, I can’t say it without feeling like I might hyperventilate and have a panic attack. And I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you because I still have so much grief.”
“I don’t care about your grief. I don’t expect it to go away overnight. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, you do what you have to do.” Jae places two hands on my shoulders and before I can look away, my gaze is locked on his eyes.
“Give me a little credit. I won’t leave you.”
We breathe in harmony while I spill my secrets.
“I’m so scared that one day I’ll close my eyes and you’ll be gone,” I tell him. “I’m so scared you’re going to die too. Please don’t die, Jae.”
“That is no way to live, Riley.” Jae presses a kiss to my forehead and pulls me close to his chest. He puts a hand on my chin and pulls my face to look directly at him. “If I have any say in it, I will not die on you.”
“I’m so worried you’ll get tired of me loving the two of you.”
“I can share with him.” He laughs. “I’m not worried about him.”
“I’m worried you’ll be scared of all my tears.”
“Tears don’t scare me. I’m not a witch who will melt in the rain.” Jae rubs circles on the small of my back.
“I worry a lot, you know.” I bat back my tears. I will not cry. I will keep it together. I will keep it open. “It’s been a lot for me to do this.”
“All your worries are just what if’s, Riley.” He presses a gentle kiss to my cheek. “That is all they will ever be.”
Jae releases me but takes me by the hand and leads me to my sofa. He makes me sit down, and I hang my head like a wilted flower. He kneels and unties my sneakers and removes them from my feet. He places Lily onto my lap, and I hold her like my life depends on it.
“Is this about me looking for apartments? Riley. You have nothing to worry about with me. I won’t leave. You can count on it.”
He places his hands on my knees and waits for me to say something, to do anything.
Worry fills my chest to the brim.
He’s just saying that. I am an unbearable human filled with grief. How can I give him the love he deserves with all this grief? How can he be so patient?
“How can you be so sure?” I ask.
“Because I’m not a terrible fucking human being. I don’t understand where you got this idea that I wouldn’t be patient with you.” He is earnest and kind.
“From everywhere,” I tell him. Isn’t this how it’s supposed to be?
“Forget about everywhere but us.”
Jae himself has only ever shown kindness and compassion towards me. I have no real reason to be afraid he’d leave me. He paid my rent, for god’s sake. I don’t answer him.
“What would help you be less afraid?” he asks me.
“Time.” My voice is shaky and unsure, but I am settled on the answer. Time is the only thing to help so far . I’m dumping out the worry in my chest by the bucketful.
“We have all the time in the world.” He kisses both my cheeks, my forehead and then my lips, and I let myself be calmed by his touch. “Except, I have to go to prep the dinner service, but I will come back later.” Jae caresses the top of my head before standing.
“I’ll be here.” I walk him to the door, and before he can leave, I tell him, “Thank you. For everything.”
“You know it. You’re my girl.” We hold hands like lovesick teenagers in the doorway. “You know what? Come by for dinner. I’ll cook you something special.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“I’ll come at eight.” I give a soft smile, all tears seemingly retracted back into my ducts.
As he leaves, for the first time in a long time, I feel at ease.