Page 46 of Dancing in the Dark

“I don’t want it to hurt anymore.” She brings her hand up and swipes beneath her nose. “I’m not trying to be argumentative, I swear. I just…” Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Maybe I’m being naïve, or maybe I watched too many Disney cartoons when I was a little girl. But I believe love is supposed to be comfortable and sweet, like a warm blanket we wrap ourselves in. Not a flash fire my nervous system screams at me to run away from.”

I’m the flash fire. I’m the danger and unpredictability. I’m the fucking problem.

“I don’t think you’re being naïve.” I tilt my head forward and rest against hers. “I want to be that warm blanket for you, Sera. I want to be comfortable and sweet and kind and never something your instincts demand you escape.”

She blinks, blinks, blinks until her heartache soaks a spot into our shared pillow.

“I’m gonna work harder to be who you need. I promise.”

“I believe you.”

Hope blooms in my heart the way pretty flowers do in the spring. “You do?”

“I believe that you want to. That you want us to be together, and for that time together to be easy and fun and comfortable.”

Did I say hope? I meant the blackened soil after a forest fire. “But?”

“But…” She drops her gaze and stares at my chest instead. “Sometimes, even when we want something really bad, even when our intentions are good and our strength is renewed, these things still don’t work out. And even if I really want it, too, even if being with you, and being with Mia, is literally the only thing I’m certain that would make me happy, I can only withstand so many body blows before I can’t get up anymore.”

Slowly, she brings her eyes up to mine. “That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna fight anymore. It means Band-Aids and I’m sorrys only work for a little while. Bleeding is still bleeding,” she murmurs shakily. “And maybe we can wrap our wounds with bandages and slow things down. But eventually, we’ll run out.” She exhales a trembling whimper. “When we bleed out, we die, and by that point…” She sniffles. “It’s the end anyway.”

I feel her pulse thick in the air. I taste my desperation right there with it. Bringing my hands up, I cup her cheeks between my palms. “Every choice I make from now until forever, everything I do, it will always be with the things that matter most to me at the forefront of my mind.”

“I d⁠—”

“Mia has to come first. She has to. She’s dealt with more trauma and bullshit in her five years than most others will ever have to deal with in their lifetimes.”

“I have never…” She whimpers. “I would never ask you to push her down a peg to make room for me at the top. You must know I love her, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do. I know.” I inch forward and press my lips to hers. “So that’s her, sitting right there at the top. And then my job has to come second, because if I get my ass fired, I won’t be able to feed her. I don’t have a safety net, Sera. I don’t have a rich family waiting in the wings to catch us.”

“Like me.” She draws our joined hands nearer and kisses my knuckles. “I know what that’s like. How scary it is. How lonely it feels. I’ve never begrudged the things you do to ensure Mia’s taken care of. But I just…” She hitches her leg higher over mine and groans. “I’m not resilient enough to be your last priority every single time. I’m not strong enough to survive being forgotten again and again. These things take chunks out of my heart, and we already covered the bit about bleeding out.”

“I didn’t forget you tonight.” I trail the pad of my thumb beneath her eye and clear away the sheen of tears sparkling under the overhead light. “I swear I didn’t forget. I got dragged into some bullshit and my lieutenant ordered me to see it through.”

“I don’t⁠—”

“Want excuses.” I nod. “Because sometimes they feel worse than the thing I did that made you bleed in the first place.”

Hesitant, gulping, she drops her chin. “Yeah.”

“I’ll do better. I…” We’re both bleeding, Sera. Don’t you see how I hemorrhage every time we fight? “I’m gonna show up for you, okay? Day after day, week after week. I’m gonna prove that I can be what you need. You just have to open the door when I knock. Take my call. Read my messages.” I press a long, closed-mouthed kiss onto her lips. “I need you to be open to what we could be. I’ll do the rest.”

“Communicate.” Sniffling, she pulls back and swipes her eyes. “I don’t want to wonder anymore. If we have plans and you can’t make it, tell me.”

“I will, I promise.”

“If you’re having a tough day at work, and parenting has wiped you out, and you need to hide away from the world…”

“Tell you.” I exhale a shuddering breath. “Communicate.”

“And if I’m really lucky, maybe you’ll stop and realize that I’d like to hide, too. With you.”

“You’d want that?” I hesitantly snicker. “When I’m tired and mean, and my apartment looks like a bomb hit it, and my daughter smells like wet dog because I don’t have any energy left to get her into the shower?”

“Invite me in.” A rosy blush spreads through her cheeks and up to make devastated eyes twinkle with something else. Something hopeful. “I could help pick a few things up off the floor, and bribe Mia into the shower with the promise of candy when she gets out. If I still have gas in the tank and the ability to help, then that’s what I’d like to do. On the days I have nothing left to give, but you do…”

“Then I’ll bring my baby girl to your apartment. We pick up your shit and promise you candy if you spend five minutes in the shower washing the stench of a long day off your body.”