We sit in silence. I have no idea what I could possibly say or do to quell her anxiety right now. She assures me that my presence here is more than enough to ground her, but—fuck, I hate feeling so helpless. I wish I knew the right steps to take so that I could offer her the same kind of support she’s shown me for years. I’m just not as strong as her, I guess.
She’s always been the embodiment of a dark rose to me. Strong enough to withstand the harsh conditions life throws at it, thorny enough to defend itself, but when nurtured, it blooms—beautiful and eye-catching. Why dark? Because her favorite color is black, and on a rose, it definitely stands out amongst the variety of colors typically associated with the flower.
Finally, the timer on her phone chimes, and I feel like I’m watching petals of her wilt and wither. My gut coils with nervous anticipation. “Do you want to check it, or do you want me to?” I offer.
She swallows hard, blinking back tears. “Can you, please?”
I nod, rising off the bed and stepping over to her desk. I hold up the stick and read the digital screen. My heart shatters at the word in front of me, the same way it did the night she confirmed that she’d been drugged and sexually assaulted—and the way it broke all over again when she said she didn’t want to pursue an investigation and press charges because she just wanted to forget it ever happened.
Not that I thought she evercouldforget it, but now it’ll be even more impossible.
“It’s positive, isn’t it?” she rasps, choking back a sob. “Your face says it all…”
“I’m so sorry, Lo.”
It’s all I can offer in consolation. It doesn’t seem like it’s even remotely enough though. I wish I had the magical ability to take all her hurt away, but I know I don’t. All I can give to her right now is the quiet reassurance that I’ll be here for her, no matter what.
I kneel down on the bed beside her and tug her into my arms. Her shoulders shudder and wetness soaks the shoulder of my shirt. She silently sobs, likely having no more fight in her to cry out audibly. I rub her back, twisting my head to gently press a kiss into her dyed-dark hair.
“What do I do, Marcus?” she croaks, sniffing back more tears.
I sigh. “Oh, Lo. I can’t make that decision for you. That, unfortunately, has to be all you, babe. I wouldn’t blame you at all, if… you know…”
She pulls back, studying my face. After a few tense moments of silence, she licks her lips. “I don’t know if I can do that. It goes againstevery fiber of my being, despite how this came to be. I always wanted to be a mom… just, someday. And with someone I love. Not now, and not like this.”
I tuck some of her stray waves behind her ear and then cup her cheek. “Whatever youdodecide, I will be with you one hundred and ten percent.” Her lips thin into a line—almost a weak smile, but not quite. “You and me, Lauren. We’re always going to be each other’s peas,” I remind her, because ever since we first met, everyone has always described us as two peas in a pod.
I also think that everyone has been shipping us for just as long, but no one in the world knows this besides her: I’m gay. She and I? We’re platonic soulmates. Of that, I’m sure.
“Will you stay with me tonight?” she asks, peering up at me through her long, dark lashes—the ones still damp with tears. “Mom and Dad don’t come back until late tomorrow, and I don’t want to be alone. Besides, they’ll get all up in my business, and I still don’t feel ready to talk to them about all this yet.”
“Of course. I’ll call my dad and let him know not to expect me at work tomorrow…”
“Oh.” Her head dips between her slumped shoulders. “Didn’t he say he was gonna have you shit-canned if you ducked out on work again? Maybe you should go…”
I shake my head. “No, I’m staying with you. He can fuckin’ deal,” I reply, displaying as much false bravado as I can muster when it comes to all things my dad—behind his back, of course. I’d never say that straight to his face. He was extremely active and high-ranking in the military before he was forced into medical retirement from active duty. Typically, you don’t say anything to his face besides, “Yes, sir.”
“I’m a twenty-two year old man; I could stand to be out from under his thumb anyway,” I add with a huff.
“Been telling you that for a while. Not that I can talk, especially now that I am living under my parents’ roof again too.”
I offer her a sad smile. “Yeah, but you have your reasons for moving back home. Not like me, who has no idea what he wants to do with his life. Besides, your parents are way more lax than mine ever dreamed of being.”
“Well, the good news is we’re back together again,” she hums sullenly.
“I wish it were under different circumstances though.”
“You and me both,” she bites her plush bottom lip.
I tip her chin up to look at me. Her gray-green eyes search mine. “We’re going to get our shit figured out, you and me. I promise you that. We take care of one another.Always.”
She nods. “I know. It just feels like—fuck, I don’t know—we’re floating into uncharted waters here or something.”
“Aren’t we always?” I lightly tease, pulling her in for another hug. I snort into her hair, laughing at the irony. “We don’t even live by the ocean. Maybe we should. Just pack up and start fresh somewhere we’ve always dreamed of…”
She scoffs. “Yeah right. Likethatwould ever happen.” After a few beats, she gently nudges me back. “Alright, you smell like sweat and cleaning chemicals.”
“Ididcome here right from work,” I remind her.
