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“Why do you think asking would upset her?”
Great question.
Anymore, I feel like I don’t have answers to any questions. That I am just going through the motions most days. Trapping myself in the studio and mood painting. Impatiently waiting for Shelly to walk through the front door with a smile on her face and arms spread wide. To bring me further into her light.
“A lot has happened in such a short period. I often question if my intentionsareout of impulse. I wonder if she thinks I’m only asking because she’s pregnant.”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Asking Shelly to move in because she’s pregnant?”
Guess I shoved myself into this corner.
The baby isn’t the chief reason I asked Shelly to move in. I asked because I love her. I asked because she matters more than anyone. Is the baby a secondary factor? One hundred percent, yes.
I don’t doubt Shelly’s ability to handle herself. She is incredible and strong and lovable. But she is not alone. Not in life or love, and definitely not when it comes to the baby.Our baby.
“No. With or without the pregnancy, I would’ve eventually asked her to live together. We just click. Can’t put it into words, but there’s something about her that I connect with on a base level.” Long before we were together, Shelly had been my muse. When I saw her again after nearly a year, she reignited that spark inside me. “When we’re together, it all just locks in place. Flows smoother.”
With Shelly, life isn’t a chore. I look forward to each day. To seeing her, holding her, being with her. She breathes life into my soul and elevates me in an incomprehensible way.
Dr. Prince glances down at his wrist. “Homework time,” he says with a hint of laughter. The homework term has become a little joke with us. Don’t know if he uses the same word with his other patients, but we laugh at it. Make it lighter and less about actual work.
“Ask Shelly again?” He nods and scribbles on the notepad. “Will do.”
“Remember Devlyn, asking for what you want shouldn’t be a chore. Don’t treat it as such. It’s normal to ask for what you want. The delivery is what makes all the difference.” He rises from his seat and I follow suit. “Mull it over before you ask. Think of how you want the question to come across—out of a place of love and not need—and practice how you think that should sound. When it feels right, ask.”
He makes the task sound so simple. Like taking a breath or painting what I feel. If only.
I don’t fear Shelly. I don’t fear the love she has for me, for us. What Idofear is rejection. Especially from her.
For years, I handed out rejection like Halloween candy. Hell, I rejected Shelly’s and my own feelings for weeks. Shoved her away after the kiss on the exhibition night. Subjected us both to suffering soshewouldn’t hurtmethe way I’d been hurt before.
I’d still hurt, but at least it was my own doing. At least I was in control.
But now, I need to be brave. I need to step up and ask for what I want. I need to stow my insecurities and be a little selfish. Not just with Shelly, but also in life.
I love her. I want her. And I shouldn’t feel shame in that.
She makes my life better, brighter. Wraps me in her arms and warmth and heart. Gives me more love than imaginable. Soothes the pain of the past without effort and replaces it with hope and passion and conviction. Shelly gives me purpose. A reason to wake up and keep going.
“Thanks, Doc.” I extend my hand and we shake. “See you in a few days.”
“Take care, Devlyn.”
I exit the office and head for my car. Unlocking it, I slip behind the wheel and press the ignition. For a beat, I sit idle in the lot. Stare out the window at nothing in particular. Let my eyes lose focus and my mind drift off with the clouds.
Shelly is not Kelsey. Shelly won’t reject me. She won’t throw me away.
I repeat this again and again. Let the words seep into my bones. Chant them like a mantra until I believe them into existence.
The past will not repeat itself. Shelly isnotKelsey.
Shelly’s hesitation to move in is because we have dated such a short time. But Dr. Prince says no one person determines when to take the next step in a relationship. There is no handbook for love. No guide for relationships. We set the pace. We say what comes next.
Our relationship cannot be compared to anyone else’s relationship. Sure, we may have similar circumstances, but our relationship otherwise is different. Becauseweare different.
