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"When I was really young. My parents got divorced." He started the story with his eyes closed. "My mom used to tell me it was all my dad's fault, but I never really got to see him, so I don't really know the truth."
I thought immediately of my aunt and how distant we had been over the years. Maybe both Taylor and I needed a chance to reconnect.
"All I know is that my mom had the Hirano money and the Hirano lawyers on her side. My dad got to see me on holidays and my birthday, that was it. I grew up without really knowing who he was."
"That sounds awful." I squeezed his hand and examined his face. He was still keeping his eyes closed and when he wasn't speaking, I could see his jaw clenched.
"It didn't start until I was twelve."
"What started?" An icy horror filled my gut.
"My mother. She," his voice broke in a way that made tears prick instantly at my eyes. "She started to use me." Tears started to fall from his eyelids no matter how hard he was keeping them shut. I couldn't keep my tears from falling either. My heart broke as my chest tightened. "I didn't know how to stop it. I tried to hide from her after the first time. But I was so afraid of her. Whenever my grandfather visited, I wanted to tell him, but heloves my mom. I didn't think he would believe me. I barely saw my dad. I didn't really trust him. It stopped once I got into high school, but I was terrified she'd want it from me again. I spent more and more time out of my house terrified of going home. I worked out constantly, until I was hurting myself, hoping I’d be strong enough to keep her away next time. I moved out at eighteen and I never visited her. My grandfather thinks we got into an argument."
"Taylor," I whispered, my entire body feeling heavy, suddenly exhausted as if I had been put under all of earth’s gravity at once.
“So, I can’t have sex with you Lydia. Even though I want to. Sometimes I can’t even kiss you.” He was shuddering, so open before me. “It brings me back to those days of fear.”
“Taylor.” I repeated his name over and over. “You never have to do anything you don’t want.”
He looked up at me, finally opening his eyes. “But I can’t be the partner you want.”
“If I somehow made you think that I needed you to kiss me and have sex with me for me to love you I am deeply sorry. I’m not being the partner you deserve in that case. I care for you. I fell in love with the way you listen to me like everything I am is interesting to you. I like that you put on a show when you cook, just for me. I think you can be deeply caring, and you make me smile. I know you can’t always say it, but you try to show me how much you care through the small things. I love you Taylor Hirano, not for the physical stuff, but for you.” I tried not to let my voice shake, but I couldn’t help how deeply I was feeling at that moment.
“Lydia.” he reached up and caressed my face, his watery eyes focused on mine. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“I just told you.” I said smiling softly.
“I’m happy that you feel that way. But I also want to be able to make love to you,” he said pushing some of my hair back rhythmically, like he was keeping himself centered in the moment, focused entirely on me. “I don’t want what she did to me to stop that.”
“Well. Then I think we should talk to your therapist. Together. See if some kind of couples’ therapy could help.”
“For now, can we just lay here for a bit?” He asked.
“I think I’d like that.” We got comfortable on the bed in our usual positions a couple feet apart.
“Can you keep holding my hand?” He asked putting his hand out into the gap.
I tapped his wrist and threaded my fingers into his.
***
“Lydia?” My aunt wasn’t from England, just worked there most of her life, but she had picked up a kind of posh tone to her voice. I used to think it was funny when I was little.
“Hey Aunt Renee.” I smiled into the phone.
“Is something wrong?” She asked hesitantly.
“No, I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh.” There was a pause on her end of the line. “What about?”
“I wanted to tell you my marriage is still going strong. Taylor is really special to me.”
“That’s good, sweetheart,” the endearment felt strange coming from her, she hadn’t spoken to me that way since I was a little kid.
“He’s a great cook. And he looks great in a suit,” I said. I never really talked with Aunt Renee about boys when I was a teenager, like I’d seen daughters and moms do in shows. Maybe I was making up for lost time.
“Sounds like the perfect man for you.” She laughed pleasantly over the line.
