I chew on my lip nervously. “I think we should go to couples counseling,” I explain, internally holding my breath.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Really?” I ask in disbelief. “I did not think it would be that easy,” I acknowledge, feeling relieved that he’s on board.
“I’ve been going to a therapist since I was a kid and you know how I feel about it. If it will help us get closer and work through things, then yes, of course I’ll do it.”
Right. The accident, his panic attacks, his anxiety—all things he went to therapy for.
“I don’t really know what I did in this life to deserve you, Kai,” I admit. And I mean it. This isn’t the first time I’ve uttered those words to him and I’m positive it won’t be the last.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you either, Ken,” he responds.
“Yeah, yeah,” I joke.
“I’m serious,” he notes. “Can I ask you something though?”
“You’re wondering about Allison, right?” I supply so he doesn’t have to.
“Yeah.”
So, I tell him the whole ugly truth, the embarrassing past. All the insults and snide comments she made about me over the years. The things I don’t want to dredge up but he deservesto hear regardless. I explain how her words had shaped me in ways that were unseeable, unknowable until now, that she had cut me in ways that lingered. I start tearing up a little towards the end and he pulls me close to him. So close I can hear his heart thumping against his ribs and the rhythmical cycle of his breathing.
“I’m so sorry, Ken. I knew you didn’t get along with her, but I didn’t really know all the details. You never told me that,” he states, weaving his hand through mine. Which is probably the weirdest part of the whole thing, seeing as how we told each other everything. At least in high school.
“I know. I was insecure and embarrassed and part of me believed some of the things she said...” I reply quietly.
“Kendall, I wish you had told me this in high school or college so I could call bullshit on everything she said to you and about you. But now will just have to do.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, looking up at him and marveling at his ability to comfort and calm me.
“Allison was jealous of you and her family is made up of right wing nutjobs by the way,” he clarifies. I mean, I knew her family was comprised of blatant racists but I highly doubt she was ever jealous of me.
“Uh huh, I’m sure. You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better, Kai.” He sits up and brackets my face with one hand.
“I’m not saying it just to make you feel better. I’m saying it because it’s true,” he admits. “Every guy in our senior class wanted a chance with you and it has nothing to do with the fact that you are Black. It’s because you are a knockout and because you’reyou. Full fucking stop. You’re gorgeous, and you’re smart, and fucking fearless. You were like the nastiest gymnast, I don’t even know how you did some of the things you did. You make everyone feel special and lucky to be around you. You’re caring and empathetic and you see people for all that they are and allthat they could be. You’re this beautiful bright light with a huge heart. As if all that wasn’t enough, you have an ass that doesn’t quit. Allison was just a pretty face, no substance, no depth, no redeeming qualities. Not to mention she was evil incarnate. You were and are so much more than that.” I don’t bother with a response. I don’t have any words. I just move my lips over his.
Thank you thank you thank youmy heart chants silently.
When we stop to break the kiss, I’m overheating, dizzy, and completely relieved. I stare at him for a moment and try to fathom how I ever walked away from him. From this. The absolute love of my life.
“An ass that doesn’t quit, huh?” I ask, smiling like a giddy teenager.
“Yup,” he replies, pinching my ass and causing me to squeal.
“Can we just agree to let our history and people we’ve been with when we broke up go? Wipe the slate clean? I mean, there are other things we need to discuss, but as far as hookups and partners go, the only person I’m concerned about is you.”
“Agreed. In terms of our dating history, let's start fresh. The only thing that matters is us,” he responds.
“Just so we’re absolutely clear—the sex with Julian, with other guys was nothing compared to what we have.” I clear my throat “Had. It was nothing and it meant nothing.”
“Oh sweet, innocent Kendall. Trust me, I know,” he muses, smirking at me. God thatsmirkmakes me want to do primal, truly unhinged things to him.
“You do?” I wonder.
“Yeah, I do. Because I’ve been searching for three years for someone to make me feel something, anything close to a fraction of what we have together. So far, no dice.”
He gives methe look, the one that pulls his lips into a devilishly handsome smile and I can feel flames licking at my core. He kisses me then and it’s all demanding, wanting, taking.We’re making up for years that we could have been doing this with each other, for time spent with the wrong people. It tastes like broken promises and fractured hearts. Truth and honesty. It’s layered with jealousy and possession andmine mine mine. It’s us. It’s everything.
