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13
DEMYEN
I’ve just had my ass verbally handed to me.
I deserved it—there’s no question about that. I’m still sitting here, still in shock over it.
And then, out of fucking nowhere, a grin spreads across my face.
Her fire…
It’s back.
It’s back and it’s aimed squarely at me. But I don’t fucking care—I’m honored, even, to be the one stoking her flames and drawing her back closer to her former self.
She’s right on all accounts, too. Especially the part she didn’t say out loud but had etched all across her face: my involvement, my complicity, cost dozens of innocent women their lives.
Who knows how many children will never see their mothers again?
I know I have a shit-ton of work to do to make things right.
The first thing on that list: make things right with Clara.
And that starts with laying out all our cards on the table and breaking the web of miscommunication we’re constantly tangled up in.
I find Clara walking through one of those labyrinth rock gardens that people say is supposed to help you find an answer to the question you asked at the beginning of the maze. I’m not sure if she asked a question about me, like whether or not she should put my balls in a jar on the mantel, but I’m pretty damn certain I’ve come to a decision about her.
“I didn’t seduce you just to punish you,” I tell her without preamble once I enter the labyrinth path. Some random pair of tourists glances our way, but I couldn’t care less. “I mean what I said: I wanted you. Just you.Clara. Not Clara Everett, Key Witness. And, shit…”
I have to tell her. I have to be honest with her and this is going to involve being honest with myself. Even if it’s making me feel like my chest is about to implode.
“I kept coming up with reasons to hate you, tonotwant you, because I couldn’t handle the fact that I wanted you. That I actually cared about you. That I…”
Clara pauses mid-turn on one of the maze’s branches. She doesn’t look up at me, but I know what she’s waiting for me to say.
WhatI’mwaiting for me to say.
“I had to keep telling myself all the reasons why I wasn’t allowed to love you. Because damn it, I loved you the moment you walked into that hotel room.”
I meant what I told her a moment ago: I do not trust people. Trust is danger. Trust is vulnerability. Trust is ripping your chest open and letting the world flay you alive from the inside out.
That’s what I saw my parents do to each other and that’s what I assumed came with love, a package deal. You couldn’t get one without the other.
But what I’ve decided is…
I no longer fucking care.
Clara Everett can rip me to pieces if that’s what she chooses to do. I’ll let her. I’ll stand in the middle of this stupid labyrinth and surrender myself to whatever may come out of this.
“I love you, Clara. I’m fucked up in the head and I have no idea how to be a good man or a good partner. But I love you. And even though I’m shit at admitting or even accepting it, I know that loving you means I can’t ask you for anything. I can’t ask you to forgive me, or even love me back. All I can do is offer. So this is that. This is me offering. Laying all of me at your feet and saying it’s yours to do with as you please. Love me back or don’t. Accept me or exile me into the desert. It’s your choice. Your power.”
Silence.
A bird chirps. Rocks shift over sand.
More silence.
She very slowly, very quietly, shuffles her feet toward me. She’s hesitant and afraid, and I don’t blame her.
