43. I Fell In Love With You and Your Sweaty Ass Hands
FORTY-THREE
i fell in love with you and your sweaty ass hands
Dahlia
By the end of the week, I feel like a shell of a person. I’ve made it a point to avoid Daphne at every turn. At least with Wes, he can’t see me and know, but Daphne can read me like a book. I’m packed up and splashing cold water in my face when Daphne comes into the bathroom.
“You don’t have to say anything, and I’m giving you space, but you need to take care of yourself. You need to let others take care of you too. We love you, and that doesn’t change no matter what your brain says.” She rubs my back and slinks away before I have the chance to argue.
Wes is standing outside his truck with a bouquet of flowers, colorful and sprawling out of their wrapped stems. “Hello, Princess,” he says, opening his arms for a hug.
I melt into him like gooey chocolate, trying to absorb every ounce of love in his body.
I feel like shit for being so distant and here he is, flowers in hand, ready to keep caring for me.
Daphne barrels down the stairs behind her runaway suitcase before looking up with a laugh.
“Look at this handsome gentleman! So respectful, so kind! Where is my handsome gentleman or gentlewoman? Not fair,” she quips. We load into Wes’ car and he loads his favorite playlist for the ride to the farm.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, to finally have you back in my arms. You doing okay?” he asks as we pull out of the city.
“I’m okay, just tired.” The lie falls out like sticky tar, but I don’t know what else to say.
He doesn’t look at all convinced, but reaches over to stop my fidgeting hands.
He pulls my hand into his lap and brushes his thumb back and forth over my knuckles.
Daphne is loudly singing along in the back, before her phone dings and she goes quiet again.
The truck pulls into the long stretch of land leading to Big Al’s.
The dirt road is lined in autumnal beauty and falling leaves.
I roll my window down and stick my head out, breathing deeply, eyes closed.
Wes parks us outside his cabin to drop our bags off before we head to see everyone.
Daphne says she’s taking a shower and before I can think about hiding out in my room, Wes snags my backpack and pulls me closer.
“Can we talk? I was worried something was up, but now you look like you’re ready to hide out in the spare room, like you don’t belong in mine.
Come on, baby.” He takes my hand so gently and leads me to his bedroom.
He sits legs spread on the edge of bed and pulls me to stand between them.
“Talk to me. I want to know what’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours. ”
I hold off on crying for a good fifteen seconds, before I start sobbing. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Baby, what’s going on?” His voice is full of tenderness I’m not sure I deserve.
“I just—” Fuck I wish I could stop crying. “I’m overwhelmed. I feel like I’ve had a five-day panic attack and at this point, I don’t even know why.”
“My Dahlia. I’m so sorry. You have so much going on lately. I’m sorry I haven’t been trying to check in more, I didn’t want to push too hard. I want to be here for you. You’re my person and I want to take care of you in all ways.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know, Wes. What now? We ride off into the sunset together and the end? This doesn’t last forever and it’s going to destroy me when it ends.”
“When it ends? Baby, I see no end in sight. I don’t want an end. Where is this coming from?”
“Everything. The grant, school, my stupid fucking life. My dad texted me. Asked if I had trapped anyone yet like my mom trapped him. How fucked up is that? And worse still, I worry he’s right.
Why would you stay with me? I guess the grant proposal would make for an awkward break up, but I could walk away from it.
If it’s what you wanted.” I can feel the words pouring out of me, attempting to inflict a fraction of the pain I feel.
“I want to stay with you, I want to be with you. Your dad is the embodiment of garbage. I’m sorry, but that’s no reflection on you.
There is no awkward break up or you giving up this project, because it’s not what I want.
You’re spiraling with these thoughts right now, but none of this is true or how I feel. ”
I don’t mean to, but I flinch with his words. “I’m spiraling? I’m spiraling. Okay.” I start to retreat, attempting to pull myself free from his hold.
“Dahlia, that’s not what I meant. Fuck. I’m sorry, it was a bad choice of words. I mean this line of thinking is going nowhere fast and it’s hurting you.”
“But see, this is how it will be with us. I will spiral and you’ll eventually grow sick of it. It’s too much for one person to bear and it’s not fair for me to dump it on you.”
Wes stands and I start to move out of the way, seeing as he’s agreeing with me. He takes my shaking hands in his before trading spots with me as he sits me on the bed. The sad look on his face says it all and I know this must be the end.
But then he lowers to his knees in front of me, cradling my hands like they’re something precious.
“There is no amount of too much for me with you. Dahlia, baby, you have my heart and I would carry yours forever. The voice you hear telling you this is too much doesn’t see you the way I do.
The woman I see is kind, loving, smart.” He moves to tuck a rogue strand of hair behind my ear as I cry.
“She’s funny and such a good dancer. The anxious voice is a real bitch, but it’s not true, and it’s certainly not you. ”
The sight of Wes on his knees before me has my heart swelling.
“I care about you so much. I feel like I don’t know how to not mess everything up constantly,” I reply through tears.
“There is no messing up, there is no perfection either. This is us. Complicated, anxious, chaotic humans. The beauty of being together is we’ll get through it all.
Together. I need you to know, I’m in love with you.
Fuck, I’m so in love with you, baby. You’re every dream I never knew I had come true.
I love you more than I can put into words.
There is not a thing you could do to drive me away.
You’re it for me, you’re who I want. Sweaty hands and all. ”
The giggles bursting out of me are contagious because Wes lays his head in my lap, shaking with laughter too. “Sweaty hands? I was hoping you just never noticed.”
“I don’t mind it at all. It’s like your signature.” He’s standing now, smiling down at me as I try to push him away.
“So, you love me? Even if I’m a mess?” Vulnerability laces my tone.
“Every version of you owns my heart.”
“I love you,” I say softly, “I really, really love you too.”
Wes leans down to press a chaste kiss to my mouth, but I need more. Grabbing him by the collar of his flannel, I haul him down to me. The solid pressure of the man I love against me grounds me to the moment and I can’t stop kissing him.
As he lifts up on his forearms over me, he kisses my mouth, my tear-stained cheeks, my eyelids. “I love you. I love you. I love you so fucking much.” We fall into each other again and again, soft kisses and roaming hands.
Quickly, our kisses turn heated and I feel his rigid length grinding against my core. “Make love to me, Wesley.”
“As you wish.”