Chapter 25
Aria
The rest of the meal was spent in a comfortable silence. It was a nice change of pace for the day.
We were quiet all the way back to the apartment. I reached over halfway through the drive and held her hand the rest of the way. It made me feel more grounded. Settled. Like we were two pieces of a puzzle that were made to find our home in each other.
Walking into the apartment hand in hand, I flip on the light switches and turn around to find Lucy gazing at me, an unreadable look in her eye.
“What, do I have something on my face?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood, but her focus just sharpens into something darker and more heated.
“Not yet, pretty girl,” she shoots back in a similar tone, though the smirk on her face makes me shiver in anticipation. But then she takes a breath and seems to tamp down on those urges.
What a pity.
“We have more to talk about, Cherry.” She walks into my arms and I set my chin on the top of her head. I think about the earlier…revelations, and I nod.
“Want some tea while we talk?” she offers and I nod. She pulls out the electric kettle and puts water on to heat up. I pull out the collection of loose-leaf tea she keeps in the cabinet as well as the honey and milk.
We move around each other with an ease resembling that of a well-oiled machine.
I don’t understand how we have achieved this level of synchronicity so fast, but I am beyond questioning it right now.
The emotional whiplash of the day is taking its toll and I am not going to spend my remaining spoons doubting something that makes me feel safe and happy.
Once we have collected our tea and made our way to the couch, I curl up in the corner and tuck a blanket around myself. Am I that cold? No, but there is something comforting about being all wrapped up when your emotions are turbulent.
“I am not taking back anything I said earlier,” Lucy starts suddenly, and my attention snaps to her, “But I also didn’t give you much of a chance to talk either.” Her sheepish grin pulls an unexpected laugh out of me.
“Nah, but I wasn’t complaining,” I wink, and she rewards me with a giggle before smoothing out her features once more.
“Seriously, though. I…” she trails off and seems to begin her sentence again, locking eyes with me, “I want to be with you. Officially. I want to hold your hand in public and maybe sneak a quick kiss or two. I want to take you on dates. I want you to stay here with me. I just want to share my life with you.”
I couldn’t pull my gaze away from her even if I wanted to. It feels like she has me in some sort of hypnotic trance and all of my focus is on the temptations dripping from her lips.
“I know it sounds intense, but we’ve had intense reactions to each other the entire time we’ve known each other, right?
” I can only nod. “I will never lie to you, Cherry, and I will always try to communicate as openly as I can; I need the same thing from you if we are going to do this. I need you to tell me if you want this, all of this, with me?”
She bites her lip and her brow furrows in concern which is when I realize that I haven’t responded to her yet; that’s enough to break the spell and I lean forward to set my mug of tea on the coffee table and scooch closer to her.
I put a hand on her knee and use the other to tilt her head up from where it had dropped in dejection.
“There is nothing I would love more than being yours. I need to learn how to communicate better, but that is something I am willing to work on. But—” The words stick in my throat.
“—this is the happiest I have ever felt. Part of me feels angry at myself for settling for so long when happiness like this exists. I don’t want to give up the life we are building together. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”
At that, she only pauses long enough to set down her own mug before tackling me back down on the couch, kissing me hard then snuggling on top of me.
This feels so much better than any blanket, I think before my eyelids get heavy and I drift into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
***
I wake up an indeterminate amount of time later to something shaking. It takes me a few moments to orient myself and realize that the shaking I feel is Lucy. Her face is contorted and I hear her muttering to herself, though I only catch a few words.
“Stop…you can’t…let me go…”
Unsure if it will make it worse or not, I don’t let go of her completely, but I do loosen my arms and start talking to her.
“Hey, Lucy, it’s time to wake up,” I start in a soft tone, “Can you open your eyes for me?”
Her trembling lessens a little, but her face remains scrunched and the muttering continues.
“There you go, come back to me, Princess. You’re safe, I’ve got you.
” I use one of my hands to slowly rub up and down her back, keeping an eye out for any signs of increasing her distress.
Instead, she almost seems to melt into me, her body going completely lax before I feel her muscles tense beneath my hands.
She takes a few deep breaths before pushing up and off of me, retreating to the other end of the couch. I mourn the loss of her warmth on top of me, but I don’t begrudge her the space she clearly needs at the moment.
Lucy tips her head back then slowly rolls her neck from side to side, dispelling any tension she might be feeling. Only after this does she look over to me and I feel my stomach drop at the look in her eyes; she looks small, vulnerable, and haunted.
“Can you turn on the lights?” she asks in a tiny voice. I just get up slowly and grope my way to the light switches, flicking them on and returning to the couch, still leaving space between her and I.
“Thank you,” she says in that same voice.
“Of course,” I say softly, “What else do you need right now, Princess?”
“Just…a minute? Please?” Her voice is pleading, and I nod and lean back into my corner of the couch.
She closes her eyes and starts breathing deeply and rhythmically. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Repeat.
After a few more minutes, her posture loosens and she opens her eyes. She appears more settled, but I don’t release the breath I’m holding until she turns to me and I see her eyes looking less wild and terrified.
“I have nightmares sometimes,” Lucy says, her voice soft and resigned, “but definitely less than I used to have. Therapy helps, but some things just stick with you.” She takes another deep, fortifying breath. “I told you I will always be honest with you.”
“You did,” I state. “But that doesn’t mean it has to be right now. I want to know, if you’re willing to tell me, but only if it will help you. Let me help you carry it, Princess?”
Her eyes fill with tears and she takes another few moments blinking them away before giving me a watery smile.
“I love you, did you know that?”
My heart feels like it is about to burst out of my chest.
“You might have yelled it at me earlier,” I tease lightly, and I feel pride puff up in my chest when she lets out a short laugh.
“I didn’t have the greatest childhood,” she says after the mirth has faded away, leaving an exhausted look on her face that looks like it is soul deep, “I mean, my dad is great, and I adore him, but he worked more than he was home. And my mother…” She swallows thickly.
“My mother was harsh. She loved me, I think, but I never felt like anything I did was enough for her. Whenever she drank, she would tell me that I could do so much better. That I was ‘wasting my potential’ because I dreamed about owning my own business.”
Her tone shifts slightly and the cadence of her voice picks up; I can tell that this is something she wants to share but not linger on.
“When I was ten, my brother…he was sixteen and I didn’t really understand what was happening, just that it hurt and that he was my big brother and I loved and trusted him. So, when he said it was a secret just for the two of us, what else was I supposed to do?
“I started my period just after I turned twelve. My mother hadn’t prepared me, so I thought it might have something to do with…
with what had been happening. I broke down and told my mom and dad everything.
My dad immediately supported me and told me it wasn’t my fault…
but he started talking about going to the police and my mom completely freaked out. ”
At her distress, I reach out my hand; I rest it on the couch between us as a silent invitation. She immediately grips it tightly and I feel slightly less helpless. At least I can be her anchor. I can give her that.
“My mother started talking about how he was just a stupid kid, that he didn’t mean any harm, and that it shouldn’t ruin his life.
That was the first time I ever saw my dad get angry at her.
He took me that night and immediately filed for divorce and full custody.
He is my hero,” she sniffs, a watery smile on her face.
“I would love to meet him someday,” I murmur, rubbing circles on her hand with my thumb.
“I would like that too,” she says back, squeezing my hand softly. “There is more to that story, but we have time, don’t we?” The question is meant to be lighthearted, but the undertone of anxiety is impossible to disguise.
“As if you could get rid of me now,” I tease.
In a more serious tone, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I am so sorry that that happened to you and if there is ever anything I am doing that makes you feel uncomfortable, tell me, okay? And, also, if there is anything I can do to help you carry that, all you have to do is ask, Princess.”
Her eyes fill with tears and she launches herself at me. Lucy’s arms and legs wrap around me and squeeze. Not that I mind. The soothing rocking and the warmth of the embrace allows us to drift back in a peaceful, dreamless sleep.