“I can make that work.” Micah says, looking pleased, ears pink. I glance over at Diesel. He’s staring at Micah with a look of definite interest.
***
Micah has left, much to Diesel’s dismay, which I find amusing. Diesel finally heads out, but I fully expect to see him around 10:30 tomorrow morning. I have a feeling I’ll see Micah as well.
Arlo heads out the door and toward my truck, carrying a box. Knowing we’re going home together is the best kind of end to my day. I can’t wait to spend a lifetime doing just that. Hemight not know it yet, but he’s mine. And I’m not letting him go. Ever.
By the time we get the gym closed up, we’ve loaded the truck, and we’re on our way home. It feels like it’s been forever since this morning. So much has happened.
It’s a quiet ride, and I can tell the day is weighing on him.
We pull into the driveway, and I park the truck. Reaching for his hand, we don’t get out, we just sit. It’s dark and intimate in the small cab of the truck. As if we’re the only two people in the world. Something about the way he’s sitting, so still and tense, tells me he’s not ready to go into the house yet.
“I should have left him sooner.” Arlo says into the dark after a minute.
He pauses for a moment. I can tell he’s processing. When he’s ready, he continues.
“I don’t know why I thought it would get better? Everyone knows it just gets worse. And yet I just kept hoping we could somehow go back to the beginning when we loved each other.”
I squeeze his hand.
“But looking back, I don’t think it was love. I was so young. So naive.” He shakes his head as if to dismiss old memories.
“People always ask “Why didn’t you leave sooner?” and I wish I could tell them the reason without sounding like a coward.”
“You’re not a coward, ‘Lo.” I tell him, emotion making my voice low and rough.
He gives me a wan smile.
“It might take me a minute to believe that, Tier, but thanks. No, the truth of it is that I was scared. I let him put me into a place where I had no job, no education, nothing of my own. And then I was too afraid to leave.”
His voice wobbles at that last bit, but I hold tight to his hand.
“But you did leave.”
He presses against my hand.
“I did. But I let it get really bad first. Really bad.” He hangs his head a bit. “I feel like such a fool for waiting.” The last is said so quietly, and with such shame, my chest aches with the weight of it.
“Anyway, enough depressing shit for tonight,” he says suddenly with false cheer and an even faker smile.
“Don’t do that,” I say.
He looks puzzled.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t minimize yourself like that.”
Arlo says nothing, just looks down into the darkness, the moon shining down on his lap through the car window.
I twist in my seat before I reach for him. Fingers under his jaw, I lift his head so he’s looking directly at me again.
“You’re not a fool. You’re a survivor. Sometimes we do whatever it takes to get to the other side, ‘Lo. And there’s no shame in that. It takes an incredible amount of courage to do what you did. I don’t intend to let you forget that.”
We hold each other’s gaze, his eyes bright with everything he’s been afraid to feel. I pour every ounce of love and respect I can into it because he needs to see that for me, he’s everything.
“Let’s go inside and I’ll get us some dinner. You can unpack.”
