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I finish the message and press send, deciding to block his number right after. I don’t need to be hearing from him right now.
I’m so lost in the text and my emotions that I don’t notice that Eric is standing in the doorway to the bathroom, waiting for me to finish. Seeing him standing there patiently makes me cry even harder. He is an example of what gentleness and kindness looks like from a man. He picks me up, wraps me in a towel, and holds me tightly to his chest on the bathroom floor.
Once my sobs have slowed, he pulls back to look at me. “Do you need anything? Water, another hug, or maybe the flowers I brought?” I look around and find a beautiful bouquet of flowers sitting next to him on the floor.
The dramatic contrast between my lifelong experiences with my dad and my current situation with Eric has left me feeling overwhelmed. Every guy in my life has turned out to be just like my dad or pale imitations of him.I learned early on not to trust guys, and Eric is obliterating those walls by sitting with me while I cry and bringing me flowers. Is this what love is?
I look back at Eric and shake my head. “No, I think I’m okay now. Thank you for being there. And for the flowers. For everything.”
“Do you want me to make dinner while you relax?”
“No, I think I’ve done enough relaxing for now. That’s what got me into this mess in the first place,” I lightly joke, managing a small smile. “I’m looking forward to making dinner with you.”
“So, what’s for dinner, then?”
CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT
Standing in the kitchen,we have all the ingredients for chicken alfredo. As we begin cooking, we fall into an easy rhythm, like we have been doing together for years. With every passing minute, I feel lighter and happier. The man standing next to me has no idea the effect he has on me.
Once dinner is finished, it feels like I can almost put my dad out of my mind for now. Eric has a way of getting me out of my head and staying in the moment. We sit down for dinner, and there’s a moment where I feel he might think about asking about what happened in the bathroom. I take a deep breath and pull out my phone. “When you found me in the bathroom, I had just texted my dad. This is what I sent him.”
As he reads the message, his face twists in shock, his eyebrows furrowing, and his lips part slightly. His eyes darken with anger, and I can see the tension in his jaw. But as he finishes, his expression softens, and he gazes up at me with the softest smile, his eyes reflecting a deep sadness.
“I know this must be hard for you. I am proud of you for your strength to stand up to him and do what is right for you.”
He is there, he knows what was said, what my dad is like. His focus is on me and what’s right for me.
He isn’t trying to tear me down or tell me how I need to do things or how I am doing things wrong. He is supportive when I step out on my own, and strong for me when I need someone to lean on. I’ve been longing for someone to love me for me romantically, and I never believed it was possible until Eric.
“Thank you. It means a lot to me that you support me and my decision to reach out to him.”
Eric looks at me with wide eyes. “All I said was I am proud of you, which I am, but that isn’t anything major.”
“It is to me,” I whisper. “I haven’t heard those words from someone in a while, and never from a guy in my life. It means a lot.”
A silence descends upon the room as we both take in the moment.
Eric finally breaks the silence. “My dad meant a lot to me.” He pauses. “When I lost him so suddenly at such a young age, it changed me.”
I listen intently.
“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”
Eric nods, his gaze distant as he continues, “My dad used to say those words to me all the time, you know? ‘I’m proud of you.’ It made me feel like I was worth something, like I was doing something right.”
I reach out and place a comforting hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. It’s clear that this conversation is bringing up some deep emotions for him.
He takes a deep breath and continues, “Losing him was a wake-up call. I realized that life is too short not to express how you feel about someone. So, when I said I was proud of you, I meant it. You deserve to hear those words, just like I did from my dad.”
Tears well up in my eyes as I feel a mixture of sadness for his loss and gratitude for his kind words. “Thank you for sharing that with me, Eric,” I manage to say, my voice filled with sincerity. “I’m grateful to have you by my side.”
Eric smiles softly, his eyes reflecting the same appreciation. “Likewise,” he replies tenderly. “I’m here for you, just like you’re here for me, because, well, you mean the world to me.”
As we sit there, the weight of our shared emotions seems to lift, replaced by a newfound bond of understanding and support. In that moment, I realize that sometimes, a simple expression of pride and the willingness to open up can create a profound connection between two people.
I place my hand on his knee, showing my support without words, and he takes it into his hand. We sit there in comfortable silence, taking in the moment. I know this is going to be a defining moment in our relationship. The big parts of our pasts are out in the open and it feels like we can take the next step forward.
In this moment, bearing our souls and supporting each other, without expectations or conditions, I start to realize, maybe this is what love is.
