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"I try to make everything I say imminently quotable, so when someone writes my biography they'll have great sound byte material. It worked for Ben Franklin. They've done whole books of his sayings." She tapped his chest. "Apology accepted. If you'll accept mine for jumping in with both feet and trying to fix, instead of trying to listen."
She took a deep breath. "I can't promise I'm going to be reasonable and understanding when you want to do things your way that might lead to...bad outcomes. I'm selfish. I want you around. But I will try to be as supportive and caring as possible."
"Okay." He looked out toward the water again. The sunlight limned his jaw, reflected off his hair, making her want to touch, but she restrained herself, knowing he needed to talk. "I want to hang around for you, Julie. I want to see where you and I go. But when I realize that by doing that, I could just deepen this thing between us, make it worse if...the worst happens...I feel like a real shit. Then I just feel shitty about all of it. I used to manage that fatalistic feeling pretty well, but in some weird way, getting something as amazing as you, as what you and I are finding, has opened it up again."
"I asked God what kind of sadistic son of a bitch He is, to do something like that, so you're not alone in that feeling. Though since you're a Dom, maybe you understand Him better."
"I think you're thinking of a different kind of sadist. I like to dole out pleasure and pain together."
"Well, that's what this is, isn't it?" She touched his face. "The greatest of pleasures bring the potential for the deepest pain. Maybe that's the way it works."
"Maybe." Des closed his hand over hers. He paused long enough she could sense he was struggling with something difficult to say, so she waited him out. "You remember that day at Bob Evans when you thought I was keeping you at arm's length? I didn't really understand why you thought I was bullshitting, but I realized this morning it was because I was bullshitting myself."
He met her gaze. "I've kept relationships at a distance so I wouldn't hurt people, but I never thought that I might be shielding myself. I didn't want to get so close that saying good-bye would hurt me too much. I don't want to say good-bye to you. But I'm a sinking ship, Julie. That's the truth."
"Oh Des. You're not a sinking ship. You made it to shore. Here. Inside of me. You can keep me, remember? I'm all yours, no matter where you go."
All these years, she'd wanted someone to reassure her of that, that she was something they'd want to keep. In the face of the near violent need she felt in him, a black hole that needed her touch to fill it, to shine light inside it, she let go of any shortcomings or perverse insecurities. She stepped toward what love truly was. A completion for another soul that needed her help to anchor, to ground, to stave off fear and realize everything he was. She was someone who deserved someone she could keep. So did he.
"I wasn't expecting you," he said slowly. "I really wasn't. You remember that day we talked about who we'd want to walk into Heaven with? No one came to mind. I've felt alone most of my life, and I've embraced that feeling, moved past the fear and owned it. So I guess I'm more afraid of wanting to need someone like that, to allow myself that weakness, because I've always had to live without it. But I've thought about it a lot since our discussion."
Her throat was so thick with emotion she wasn't sure how she was able to talk. "So did you decide on Betty Grable or Marilyn Monroe?"
"Tough choice. Maybe Sophia Loren. In a gold dress, with a figure made in Heaven, shiny brown hair..." He stroked it, as they both remembered the night at the party.
"I'm in love for the first time in my life, Julie. I've started in that direction before, but I've always been able to pull back. I can't seem to pull back from you."
He drew a breath. "So I'm going to start the at-home dialysis, like Betty suggested. It'll be a few times a week, and I can do it at night, when I sleep."
"Sounds good. Do it for the people who care about you. It's only a few hours of your life." She modified and gave him back the words he'd given her, when he'd wanted her to go to the urgent care.
His wry expression said he recalled it, though he gave her a direct look. "The first couple times, I'd rather do it on my own, to see how bad it's going to be."
"Okay." She accepted that, though it took some effort. "But maybe if it's driving you a bit crazy, you could call me while it's happening. We could chat a few hours. I know how restless you can get if you have to stay still too long."
"Okay." His fingers clasped hers. "Will you take a walk with me?"
"Of course I will. Anywhere."
He rose, offering her a hand to help her up. As they stood facing one another, she rose on her toes and slid her arms around his shoulders, holding him tight. "I'm sorry for anything I said that was mean," she said softly against his neck. "But I won't be sorry for loving you. Not now or ever."
His arms wound around her, and he held her just as tightly in answer, putting his face against her hair. "I'll hold you to that," he said.
She eased back only when his grip slackened. She was pleased when he took her hand, shouldering the pack he'd had at his feet. He drew her across the parking lot, his destination apparently a trail marker. It was a good thing she'd worn sneakers, because as they hit the trail, his pace increased.
"Where are we headed?"
"It's a surprise. Can you be away from the theater for a while?"
"All day if needed. I told Harris I had some personal things to handle. Thomas and Marcus are here a few more days. Lila freaked when she realized Thomas was painting some the sets."
"Hmm." He stepped off onto a side trail little more than a deer path, and took her down into a ravine, steep enough he spotted her as they slid down the incline. From there the growth grew even denser. He held branches away from her face as he directed her beneath and around them. Another few steps and the foliage opened into a small clearing with a trio of maple trees and a creek trickling through, a musical gurgle of sound. A frog startled by their appearance hopped back in the water with a small splash. There were moss-covered rocks clustered around the creek, and the area had a damp, green smell to it. Sunlight filtered through the interlaced tree branches enough to balance the coolness, but there was a hushed quietness here that reminded her of the church.
"So are you about to tell me you're a serial killer, and this is where you bury your bodies?"
His lips curved. "You did say you always wanted to meet one, but no." Closing his hand over her wrist he knelt, drawing her with
him. "See here, where the grasses are pressed down? This is where a deer sleeps, maybe a couple of them. A mother and a fawn. Maybe even a male-female pairing, though they don't really mate for life like other animals do. They can still dream together. Everyone likes having someone like that."
