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We make love for an hour, maybe more. We find a calm that always exists in the sanctity of our bodies’ communion. When we are together like this, it’s easy to forget that anything else matters
We roll out of bed and shower at 2:00 a.m. I kiss his bruises without asking how he got them. He accepts my kisses without offering any explanations. We go back to b
ed and do it all over again. I fall asleep on him, sated but dreading the reckoning the sunrise will bring with it.
PRIDE
CONFIDENCE
My phone beeps with a new email and I look over at my window and see the first hints of sunlight peeking through my curtain. Hayes stirs beside me and I decide to ignore my phone. I snuggle into him. “Good morning,” I whisper into the back of his warm, muscled shoulder.
“Morning,” he mumbles sleepily, his arm snaking behind him to pull me closer. “I need to tell you about last night.” His voice is partially muffled in his pillow, and he turns to face me. His eyes are clear, and I realize he’s been awake longer than I realized.
My heart falls. I’m dreading what I know I must say. What I must do.
“I already know,” I confess.
His muscles tense. “What do you know?”
I gaze at him.
I love him.
But I can’t be with someone who thinks those things about me.
I push out of his grasp and sit up and pull the covers over my chest. I stare at my fingers, twirling the rings the way he does all the time.
“You know why I wrote that thesis?”
“Huh?” he frowns, his brow furrows at the abrupt turn in our conversation.
“I wrote it because, I love the river. But I wanted to protect my people from the destruction it always causes,” I choke on a sob.
“Hey … baby.” He starts to sit up and put his arm around me. I shake my head and climb out of bed, taking the sheets with me. I sit on the large window seat, and a tear splashes on the blue gray fabric I’m cocooned in. The tiny moist spot bleeds to form a quarter-sized stain. I wipe at my eyes with a brutal pass of my hands.
I take a shuddering breath and stare at my hands while I try to collect myself. Growing up, I watched year after year as the river banks swelled when the rain overwhelmed it. And its lazy, tranquil flow would transform into a beast. It laid waste to every single plan, hope, home, heart that was in its path. When it receded, it would leave everything covered in mud and dirt. Some things would never recover. Like me. Now, I look back at him. He’s watching me with a perplexed expression on his face.
“I know rivers, but you made me forget the danger. I forgot to cage my love for you. And now, I’m drowning in it,” I whisper.
“Confidence, you need to stop speaking code. Tell me what the fuck is going on?” He raises his voice in frustration. “Why are you crying? And why can’t I touch you?” he asks, his voice even louder, and he sounds as angry as I feel. I glance at him and it pisses me off that he doesn’t look panicked or worried.
“You’ve ruined everything!” I shout, suddenly overwhelmed with anger, sadness, disillusionment, despair.
“You need—”
“I don’t need to do anything,” I say in defiance.
“Yes, you fucking do,” he snarls.
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not saying I thought this was going to be forever. But over the last couple of months, I’d let myself imagine the possibility …” I say while I throw my charger, laptop, phone, and books into my shoulder bag.
“Okay.” He shrugs. “What’s changed since you fell asleep on my cock six hours ago?”
Of course. It’s always about sex with him. I shake my head and slip my feet into my shoes. I can’t even look at him.
Queen.
I love you.
