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Alessandra
God damn it.
Once we finish dinner, he drives me home and comes in for a night cap. I’m screaming at myself inside.
How can I do this? Normally, I can keep my emotions intact, but for some reason, at this moment I fall apart, tears beginning to stream down my face. Sensing the warmth of his hand helps to calm me.
In these quiet moments between James and I, I try not to think about the 'whole' of us. I want all of us to be together. Not just me and James.
I will myself to stop crying but I can't. I feel like I’m ruining the dinner James has prepared for us.
Sobbing still, I look at him.
"Thank you for the thrill of the skydive. I’ve never experienced anything like that- it was incredibly freeing."
Settling down, I focus on the skydive and his warm hand.
"I do want you, desperately."
I pull his hand up to my cheek and kiss it gently.
"But I want Mattheo too."
The dive is where it's at. Diving into the unknown.
"Alexa," he begins. "I love you so, so much," he lowers his head and pulls my chair closer to him.
Waving his hand at the chef, James bades him to hold dinner in his heated van.
"Whatever will make you happy is what I want to provide."
I try to stifle a sob, but it escapes. I’m impassioned by his willingness, by his desire for me to be happy and walk along with me on this journey.
If only Mattheo would.
James seems a little rattled by my display of emotion and it scares me. I want both of them because they fill different needs in me. My desire is for each of them individually, because of their differing natures.
I'm a selfish person is all it boils down to.
Why have one when you can have two?
James pulls me back from my thoughts.
"How about some food for thought?" He grins with his usual sneer, accentuating the pun.
"Yes please, I haven't eaten all day," I respond, indifferent to the revelation.
James motions to his chef and immediately he brings our food. Not only am I tearful, but I’m also grateful for what James is trying to do.
As the food is placed before me, my stomach growls, and my mouth waters. I wipe the tears from my face, grateful for something else to distract me.
I realize just how hungry I am only when I take the first bite. Even though it remained in a heated truck for half an hour, the prime rib is absolutely perfect.
"Is it to your liking?" he asks me.
"It's perfect," I respond as I’m finishing the last bite on my plate.
As dinner resolves, he speaks up.
