Page 55 of Here In Your Arms

“‘S’okay.”

I move my body off him and lay myself down on the couch, my feet in his lap and a blanket pulled over me. My pillows are already surrounding us, so pulling the blanket was easy. Now I can just be while he messages Kyle back with whatever he needs. I can’t reach for my phone.

“Should I go?” He sounds a little annoyed.

“Dunno,” I tell him, unable to make any decisions at the moment.

“Um, okay then.” He gets up to leave.

I honestly don’t want him to go. I don’t like being alone when this happens, but I almost always am alone. It’s nothing unusual, so I don’t move or say anything as I feel that weight sitting on me. I’ll just keep dealing with this on my own like I deserve. My phone keeps chiming and I sigh, knowing I should have handled that differently. I should have just sucked it up and talked to him. I shouldn’t let this heaviness get to me like it does. I just can’t get myself to care enough to do anything. Why am I like this?

Tears start to slip out of my eyes, and I realize that was probably the end of this thing. He’s not going to want to see me again. I just abandoned him mentally. May as well be a lump on a log. Memories of words echo in my head, reminding me I’m worthless. I was lucky to have Nathan. Nobody else would deal with this problem. My mom reminding me that men want girls who smile, not cry, so I’m going to be alone if I don’t fix this.

There’s no sense of time as the thoughts assault me. A slow, but steady stream of tears leaks from my eyes as I lay there, the TV playing but nothing permeating to my brain. The door to my apartment opens, and I realize with a delayed concern that Wes never locked it. Kyle steps through the door, looking concerned and disheveled. He locks eyes with me and immediately removes his shoes, closing the door behind him. His long legs get him to the couch in about four steps and he slips himself under my head, so I’m lying on his thigh. His hand starts combing through my hair, gently, and no words are exchanged.

At the third pass of his hand, I break a little. “It hurts. I’m tired and it hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, and continues running his fingers through my hair, not demanding anything, not asking questions, just existing with me.

A feeling of safety encompasses me and I let myself lose it. I stop trying to hold it together and let the tears come and start sobbing. Gently, he lifts me as much as he can and maneuvers me fully into his lap, directing me to put my head on his shoulder. When I figure out what he’s trying to do, I assist him as best as I can, which admittedly isn’t a ton. I get myself seated on his lap while he pulls my head toward his shoulder. My head tucks perfectly into that little hollow between his clavicle and shoulder and I continue to cry as one hand continues raking through my hair, the other holding me close.

“I’m here, I got you.”

Chapter 20

Kyle

The plumber gets to the house shortly after Wes leaves, and I roll my eyes internally. Of course that’s how the timing works out. He gets to go see Rory and I’m staying here, being the responsible one. That’s not fair. Wes is plenty responsible; this is just the kind of steady responsibility that I seem to take ownership of. I don’t mind, not really, I’m just jealous he gets to see Rory.

The plumber is able to fix the leak, but he’s not able to tell me what damage there is. I’ll need someone else for that. Makes sense, but still annoying. I thank him for his time and keep his card. He owns his own small plumbing business with five employees, and he was incredibly helpful and prompt, so I’ll be referring him and calling if I need help again. I put out fresh towels underneath the sink to soak up the rest of the existing water, and rummage around for a small fan to help move the air. When I check the basement ceiling, it doesn’t look too bad. There’s a tiny wet spot that you have to really look for, so I’m hoping there won’t be any water damage. I make a mental note to call a contractor to pull the ceiling open to check in the next couple of weeks.

Once I feel satisfied with that, I pull out my phone and check to see if they messaged at all. Nothing, but that’s probably good. I send a few messages to them, teasing their silence and asking how things are going. Hopefully, they’ll tell me to come join. I don’t invite myself, though, if they want me I’ll join but I’m going to respect their time together. There’s no reply for a few minutes, so I send another message just to tease. They’re probably doing the dirty, but I can’t resist the urge.

My feet take me upstairs and I flop on the couch in the living room before I hear my phone chime again. I pull it out of my pocket and see Wes has messaged, but it sounds like maybe they’re done hanging out.

Me: Everything ok? You guys get freaky then decide you need me? *winking face*

Wes: Uh, yeah. I’m gonna head home I guess.

My brow furrows as I start a message back. That seems like an odd way to phrase things.

Me: Oh, well, ok, everything cool?

Wes: Yeah, I guess so. Sounds like it is but I’m gonna head out.

That’s fucking weird. What does he mean by “sounds” like it is? Did she say something to him? Did they get in a fight? It feels like something is way off here. Why isn’t Rory saying anything?

Me: Rory, you’re pretty quiet, you doin ok?

She doesn’t respond, and neither does Wes. Something must have happened and now I’m worried. Maybe I should just go over there. While I get mired in indecision, enough time passes that Wes arrives home. He shuts the door with a little extra force and pops a beer open.

“What the hell, man?” I ask as I meet him in the kitchen.

“What?”

“What is going on? Rory’s radio silent, and you barely said a fuckin word. Then you stomp in the house and slam the door. What happened?”

He scoffs. “Fuck if I know. One minute we’re playing Mario Kart and having a blast, the next minute she’s zoned out like a goddamn zombie. She wouldn’t say more than two words to me, so I left. She clearly didn’t want me there.”

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