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“No. Don’t.”
“I have to, sweetheart.”
Why does he keep calling me that? It feels too good.
I bite my lip and stare at the bedspread.
“Your upbringing was fucked from what I can tell, and you’re used to dealing with things alone. But you’re not alone. I’m here. I know I haven’t given you the impression that I wanna be, but I’m telling you here and now that I do. And you don’t need to pull back, hold back in any way with me. I want to be here for you. Let me be.”
I shake my head. “I can’t get used to that. I could easily get addicted and addiction is a bad thing, Austin.”
“Get used to it. Because you and me? This isn’t casual for me. Not anymore, and maybe not ever. I just had shit fucking with my head and I played it wrong. I played it wrong and that hurt you. I’m sorry about that, Jada, but I’m here right now, I’m here for you, and I’m not abandoning you again.”
“Austin…”
“I read the rest of the Smut File, baby.”
I jolt in surprise.
“The first night I knew you were staying at your father’s, before you came back and got your stuff. I sat right here and read all of it.”
“All of it?” I’m horror-stricken.
“All of it from chapter four on. I don’t know if you changed anything in one to three but yeah, four onwards. And-”
“Oh please stop.” I cover my ears and close my eyes. I can’t listen to this right now. I can’t believe he read that. After everything that happened, I can’t believe he went back and read it.
“Jada, listen.” He gently takes my hands from my ears.
“How dare you invade my privacy like that again!” Tears are flowing again. “And tell me now when I’m so… so broken… You’re such an asshole.”
He leans over and kisses my cheekbone. “I’m glad I read it. I’m glad, because it woke my shit up.”
“What does that mean? No, don’t tell me. I can’t deal with this right now.”
“It means, I’m here, I’m here for you, and I’m here for us.”
“Us?”
“Us. Yes, there’s an us. My head is outta my ass, baby.”
I shake my head. “You’re right, I can’t handle this right now. You have to stop, Austin. You have to. My dad died. And my mom died and my brother is in a mental hospital and I c-can’t do this.”
“Okay. Okay. We’ll talk about it later. Here.” He hands me the remote, leans over, and turns out the lamp.
When I don’t immediately turn the TV on, he speaks.
“Turn it on. It’s fine. I’m right here if you need me. Wake me up if you need me for anything, even just to talk, to hold you, whatever. Okay? Sleep on me or beside me, whatever you want.”
What?
To hold me? Whatever? Not okay. I’m so not okay, okay isn’t even in the same county as I am. It’s way beyond reach.
“Austin, I think you should go back to your bed.”
Or he should stick his head back up his ass because this is going to hurt like hell if it’s just a case of him feeling bad for me and realizing after I’ve gotten addicted that he doesn’t want me.
“Only if you come with me. That’s a bigger bed. Better pillows. Bigger TV in there, too. C’mon.”
“No. You go.”
“Yeah. C’mon.” He scoops me up in his arms and carries me.
I just stay there, in his arms, I don’t fight about it. Because I can’t help but love when he carries me. Instead, I decide I’ll pretend for tonight. I’ll let him sleep beside me. I’ll feel comforted that I’m not alone. For now.
Maybe I’ll even snuggle a little bit. Like a capuchin.
Because everything hurts, it hurts so bad. But it hurts a tiny bit less when he’s holding me.
Even if this isn’t going to last long, should I just let myself have this little bit of comfort while it’s on offer?
***
Three times I wake up startled, having dreams, feeling disoriented, and each time he’s here, reaching out to touch me, assure me he’s here, asking me if I’m okay, offering me a drink.
And each moment I think about losing my parents, I also think about the fact that it’s gonna hurt like a bitch when I lose this, lose him.
***
Sunday, he makes me bacon pancakes. I only eat two, but then he’s run me a bubble bath in Aiden’s big soaker tub with one of Carly’s bath bombs. I wonder if she told him to do it.
I take it a long bath, my skin feels like silk afterwards, and then get back into bed. I sleep a lot. A whole lot.
Each time I wake up to pee, watch TV for a bit, or to have some sips of water. He’s here. Sometimes he’s watching TV. Once, he was dozing with me. Another time, he was tapping away on his laptop.
