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My heart flips into my throat. Denise, one of the wives, grabs onto my arm and jumps up and down with me. Margot comes back to the stands with a tray of hamburgers and fries. She looks both confused and heartbroken she missed out on the action.
“Did I miss something? Wait, what did I miss?” Margot twists around to check the scoreboard while Denise and I continue to jump around.
“Xavian! Oh, Xavian did it!” she screams in my ear.
Margot nearly drops her tray of food onto the ground when I throw my arms around her neck. And then her terminal starts to glow. We both look down at her wrist. The name hovering in the air reads, “Aiken.”
Raising an eyebrow, we stare at one another awkwardly for a few seconds before Margot clear her throat. “I’m um… I need to take this. But I’m so happy for you!” She then rushes off up the steps, out of sight. Since when did she and Aiken have each other’s terminal numbers? And how do they even talk to each other? Something to discuss over mocktails later, I guess.
Denise lets out another whooping cry, and then we find out seats again. I laugh and brush a few tears away from my eyes. No, I have no clue what’s going on half the time in this game, but it’s fine. Xavian is finally doing something he loves, and I couldn’t be prouder of him.
Two hours later, the game finally comes to an end, with the Lionsharks coming out ahead by a single point. It was a grueling game, and I’m not sure any of my fingernails survived the stress. As we linger behind in our box high above the rest of the seats, Denise touches my elbow, all smiles. She’s beautiful, with chocolate brown hair that falls to her shoulders, and she’s wearing an oversized Lionsharks hoodie with her husband’s number proudly displayed on the back for all to see.
“Hey, we’re all going out later for drinks and a late dinner. You should come!”
I smile. “Of course. Let me just talk to Xav first.”
“You got it, girl. Text me!” she says, and we go our separate ways to find our partners.
It feels strange being around such supportive women. Women who aren’t obsessed with the papers or keeping up with appearances. Not all of them are as friendly as Denise, but none of them have been rude, mean, or petty, either. Instead, they welcomed me into the fold and have invited me to all their social gatherings. And even if I can’t make it to all their outings, it feels like there’s something real here. Something like genuine friendship.
My therapist has been encouraging these new relationships, of course, but healing is a long journey. That’s not even counting the work I’ve been doing with my nutritionist. Progress on the food front has been… slow. Slow and difficult. There are still so many triggers in my day to day life that make things harder than I’d like them to be, and I still have trouble going out to eat with friends. I don’t feel brave enough, yet. But it’s okay for me to feel insecure so long as I don’t completely cut myself off from new opportunities. This week’s homework with my therapist is about saying no to things that I would normally say yes to. After being controlled for years, it’s time for me to learn how to set some boundaries. Which, in this case, would be declining going out for dinner with my new acquaintances. I’m not ready to go jump headfirst into anything—lord knows I’m not ready for that—but I’m remaining open to the possibilities, is all. There’s always next time. Besides, I kind of want a quiet night in for once.
For once in my life, I feel … at peace.
* * *
Later that night, back in our apartment in Toronto, Xavian slides a record out of its sleeve and holds it up for me to inspect while I perch on the sofa with my notes.
“What about this one? We haven’t listened to it in ages,” he says as he walks past me, shirtless.
Sparing a glance at the record, I can’t fight the grin that’s taking over my entire face right now. “Ah, NSYNC’sGreatest Hits. I’m not really in the mood for that one right now, though.”
He lifts a brow and takes a seat next to me on the sofa, then takes my ankle into his palms and lifts my foot to his mouth. I smile as he peppers my toes with small kisses.
“It’s almost midnight, sweetheart. You’re allowed to take breaks, you know that, right?” he teases.
I jot a couple things down on my terminal notetaker app, then close it. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It’s just….” I sigh, shaking my head. “This song is really giving me trouble. What rhymes with illumination?”
He places my ankle on his shoulder and sighs. “Babe. I don’t think anything rhymes with that. C’mon. Let’s go to bed. I can fuck you so good, maybe it’ll jiggle something loose in that beautiful brain of yours.”
I open my mouth to protest, but stop myself. He’s right. My therapist also tells me that I can’t pour from an empty cup. Right now, my cup is completely drained, and I’m looking at the tallest drink of water I’ve ever seen.
Xavian places my leg down gently onto the sofa, then leans forward and scoops me up into his arms. I let out a playful cry as he smatters my face with kisses and carries me off to the bedroom, bridal style.
As we settle down in our nest of blankets and pillows, he runs his fingers through my hair. After winning today’s game, he should be the one getting pampered and fussed over, but that’s never been our relationship style. Xavian is so full of love and affection, I swear he’d burst if I didn’t let him dote on me the majority of the day. Not that I’m complaining, of course.
The soft drizzle of the rain against the window is so soothing, I could fall asleep right here and now. But with Xavian’s cool, ocean blue eyes staring into mine, all I want to do is touch him.
“So,” he says as he pulls me closer against his chest. “Who’s the lucky artist getting this song, then?”
I sigh against his warmth and trail my fingernails across his back. He lets out a soft groan of appreciation before I say, “Some up-and-coming artist called Siska. She’s amazing. Want to listen to her?” I pull my face away from his chest and look up at him. “I can get the terminal up right now and we can—”
He presses his lips to my forehead and chuckles. “Slow down, princess. Not right now. Right now, it’s just us. You can show me tomorrow morning over breakfast.”
“Are you sure, because—”
Another kiss. I sigh.
