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So what do I do? I burst into tears. I sob, inconsolable and irrational.
Neither of us speaks. Will holds me while I shake and release every emotion known to humankind. Once I catch my breath, I start to laugh, just as uncontrollably. I laugh until I can’t breathe, and then? I cry again.
Goddess bless the man, Will doesn’t say a word through any of it. He cradles me through each humiliating sob and snort, handing me tissues now and then so I can wipe away the snot and tears.
When I am finally able to think and move, horrified about how red and swollen my eyes must look, I roll to face Will, only to find his cheeks wet and his eyes red.
He smiles. “Hell of a crymax.”
“Sorry,” I mouth, not confident that my voice will work beyond exhausted bawling noises.
“Sorry? For what?” He wipes a tear from my cheek. “I needed that apparently as much as you did.”
“You needed someone to have an emotional meltdown in your arms?” My throat constricts.
“I guess so.”
I try to process what has happened in the last twelve hours and how I’ve allowed myself to be so vulnerable with a man who is a billion times more everything than anyone I could ever hope for a future with. And yet … it feels right. It works. We work.
Will and I lie wrapped together for several minutes until our breathing synchronizes into a rhythm adjacent to normal.
“Did you have a nightmare last night?” I ask.
“I dreamed. I remember …” Will looks past me, squinting. “Something with a car going up a really steep hill that made me uncomfortable, anxious. But then”—he turns to me—“I looked beside me in the car, and you were there. Not you, exactly. Nobody in my dreams has a face. But it was your energy. It was one hundred percent you. And you, your energy—I sound like a flake—you smiled and laughed and next thing I was …” Will looks into the distance again. “I don’t remember, but it was nice wherever it was. Because you were still with me.”
I sniffle. “How can my tear ducts store so much water?” I choke.
Will grimaces and tilts his head. “It’s sucking the moisture from your face. I hate to be the one to tell you, but … you’re looking kind of like a dried-up, apple-face doll.” He rubs my cheek. “Yup. Definitely from your face.” He smiles.
I reach up to mask myself, but Will grabs my hands and holds them between us. Then he leans forward and kisses my cheek.
“I love dried apples,” he says before planting his mouth against mine.
We kiss until I’m breathless again.
21. Will
A PRINCESS PLUNDERED
Icannot remember the last morning I stayed in bed past ten. And I’m certain I’ve never done so with company. I leave Virginia sprawled and satisfied and head to my kitchen to make us coffee. A platter of energy-boosting, Power power-balls sit on the table at my elevator door. A note lies on the tray. “My balls taste better than yours. ~A.”
I’m not one for morning-after pillow talk and laying in bed with Virginia makes it clear that my issue isn’t with pillow talk. It’s that I’ve never woken up beside the right woman.
And at 11:12 a.m., when Mom calls to ask why I’m late for our monthly Saturday brunch, my overworked muscles are ready for real food.
“Mind if I bring a friend?” I ask.
Virginia’s eyes widen and she shakes her head.
“Yes, a very nice woman named Virginia. You’ll like her. She’s the one taking care of all the plants in the building.”
Virginia scowls.
“No, Mother, she isn’t working today. She is my friend, and we’ve been”—I mouth ‘Fucking all morning’—“hanging out.”
Virginia looks as if she’s going to burst an aneurysm.
“We’ll be there in ten.”
