Page 60 of The Proximity Factor

I was acting like this video diary was my actual diary. I needed someone to talk to about these things, but I was afraid to say them out loud to anyone. Especially since working with Parker was a moot point. And I didn’t want to betray his confidences. Maybe I could apply for a marketing job in another company. Obviously, it would have to be a different industry than the gaming industry. But what would I put on my résumé? I once helped my boyfriend at an expo. It’s not like I could quit my teaching job right now, anyway. I’d already signed my yearly contract.

Despite that, I couldn’t be too bummed out. I had some serious making out to look forward to.

“Question five: Do you still consider your level of communication to be deep? Are you still satisfied with your level of communication? Is there a need for improvement in your level of communication? If so, please specify.” That was a lot. “I do feel like we have in-depth conversations. Parker is trying to be more open, which I really appreciate, so yes, I’m satisfied.” Maybe I was a little antsy for him to throw the door wide open, but that was on me, not him. “Is there a need for improvement? I don’t think so. Some things just come with time. It’s okay that he’s not an open book like me. I’m probably too open,” I admitted. “Honestly, it surprises me I haven’t scared him away.”

“Question six: Rate your level of intimacy with Parker in each of the following categories: emotional, mental, spiritual, and physical, ten being the highest and one being the lowest. Explain any changes from previous weeks.” I rolled my eyes, even though I’d figured this question was coming again. “Here it goes ... again,” I half complained. “Emotional I would say is an eight. Like I said in the previous question, Parker is opening up more. Mental, I would say an eight or a nine. I know it’s down a little bit. Not because of anything bad, it’s just we aren’t working on anything together other than our relationship, which is super important. But I’m not sure I should ask him about his company or what’s going on. He seems adamant to keep that separate, so I’m honoring those wishes, even though I have some pretty kick-butt ideas on how to market his baby. Oh well,” I sighed. “Spiritual, I would say we are still at a solid eight. Physical.” I caught myself grinning. “Um, let’s just say it’s good. Like definitely a ten.” I fanned myself.

“Question seven: How would you rate your experience so far?” I could easily say, “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”

CHARGED UP FROM KISSING LANIE, I hurried to log into the university portal. The woman was pure intoxication. Knowing I was missing time with her made me even more annoyed about doing the video diary. My weekdays were so busy now, all we had were the weekends. Even though I had a mountain of work calling for my attention, I promised myself I wouldn’t let my company come before Lanie. I’d done that in my marriage, to disastrous results. Lanie would own my weekends.

I sat down at the desk and clicked record.

“Question one: What is the status of your relationship with Lanie?” The question ticked me off, but I didn’t waste time answering. “We’re seeing each other.”

“Question two: What attracted you most to Lanie?” I smiled. “What didn’t attract me would be a better question.” I left it at that.

“Question three: What is the current mood in the house? Good,” I simply responded. They didn’t need to know how good. Or how much better the mood was going to get as soon as I finished doing this stupid video diary.

“Question four: Have you discussed your future goals with Lanie? If yes, are your goals in alignment with hers?” I leaned back in my chair, taken aback by the question. It was a complicated situation. Especially after what her brother had said to me before we left her mom’s house tonight. He told me Lanie annoyed him when they were growing up, but Tad also told me how Lanie had spent her days and nights at the hospital while he recovered from his accident. It was his belief that if he could have harnessed Lanie’s will to his own, he would have been able to walk again. I could see that. When Lanie believed in something, she did all she could to make it come to fruition. However, even when that didn’t happen, she never gave up. For months after Tad was released from the hospital, Lanie brought her own wheelchair to use on her visits until he came to terms with his new reality. They would go on strolls together until their arms gave out. None of this surprised me.

Tad’s parting words to me were, “Lanie doesn’t love halfway—she doesn’t know how. Just remember that. She deserves the same love in return, and if you don’t think you’re the guy for that, it’s probably best you walk away now.” It was a warning, but not a threat. Although the guy had biceps as big as my head and barbed wire tats that let me know he would have no problem taking me down if need be, he wasn’t trying to intimidate me. Tad was trying to protect Lanie. As a brother, I respected that, even if his words gave new meaning to the word fear.

What if I couldn’t give Lanie the love she deserved? Did I want to think I was the guy who could? Of course I did. But how could we know at this point if love was in our future? That was the crux of it. Tad was telling me that Lanie already knew she would give me her whole heart if I let her and admonished me to keep that in mind. Believe me, I thought about it all the time.

To answer the question. “Lanie and I have talked about the future, but I’m focused on the present. When I see how that goes, I’ll know better if our future goals align. I can say I hope they do.”

“Question five: Do you still consider your level of communication to be deep? Are you still satisfied with your level of communication? Is there a need for improvement in your level of communication? If so, please specify.” I rubbed my temples. These questions were hurting my head. “Yes, our communication is in depth. I’m satisfied with it. I guess there is always room for improvement, but I think we’re honest with each other about our feelings. And we respect each other’s opinions.”

“Question six: Rate your level of intimacy with Lanie in each of the following categories: emotional, mental, spiritual, and physical, ten being the highest and one being the lowest. Explain any changes from previous weeks.” I was so done with this question; I gave the camera a blank stare before I attempted to answer. “Emotional,” I said begrudgingly. “I will say it’s gotten better as we’ve gotten to know each other more. I’ll go with seven. Mental is still a ten.” I spoke before I thought. Lanie had been avoiding asking me about work or anything to do with Ruptured Worlds. She’d ask about my day, but nothing specific. In fact, she rarely spoke about her return to work. I scrubbed a hand over my face, not sure what to do about that. Damn it. Honestly, I would love her insight, but it wasn’t fair to ask. I’d put up that barrier, and for good reason. But I had to wonder if it was for the best. I didn’t change my answer. The researchers didn’t have a right to know what was on my mind.

“Spiritual is the same. Eight. Physical”—I sneered into the camera—“still none of your business.” I had to wonder how Lanie was answering that question. For me, it was a ten. Even if each time I touched her, it required every ounce of self-control I had not to take her to my bed.

“Question seven: How would you rate your experience so far? It’s been one hell of a ride; I’ll tell you that. Perhaps the best ride of my life so far. I guess I can thank you for that.”

“SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK?” Parker was eager to know.

I looked around the open loft Parker had just given me a tour of. He was thinking of renting this place, which was about twenty minutes outside of Atlanta. Despite how small it was, it had character, with large windows, red brick walls, and vintage wood floors. The faint hum of city life drifted in. It wasn’t an unpleasant sound. In fact, I kind of liked it. It was different than the quiet song Goldenville played, but I had a feeling it was a tune I could get used to. I wasn’t sure what to do with that revelation. But I knew one thing for certain: I could totally picture Parker here. This was his kind of song. Even if it broke my heart that our time at the cottage was coming to an end.

“I love it,” I tried to say enthusiastically. “I mean, it needs some throw pillows,” I teased. “And, you know, furniture would be good.”

Parker laughed. “I’ll let you help me decorate. But let’s keep the throw pillows to a minimum,” he begged.

“I make no promises.” I boosted myself up on the butcher-block counter in the tiny kitchen, picturing in my mind where to put furniture in the open space. Each area blended into the next—the only separate room was the bathroom. I wasn’t even sure what kind of furniture Parker had, but if he needed to shop for some, I was his girl.

Parker swaggered my way and landed in front of me, allowing me to capture him with my legs. I was getting used to the contact lens version of him. Apparently, he had only been wearing the glasses because he wanted to save money by not buying contact lenses. While I missed the glasses, knowing the reason for them only made him more attractive. He gave up so much to help his sister. This was a good man.

“Are you okay? You seem out of sorts,” he asked while tucking some hair behind my ear.

“I’m good. It’s just I’m going to miss living with you in the cottage.” I’d come to love the place so much, I’d contemplated asking the university who I could talk to about renting it. The commute would stink, and I probably couldn’t afford it. After all, I had a good gig renting from Mama. But the thought of leaving the cottage just plain hurt.

“I’m going to miss it too.” He paused and looked around the space lit by the evening light filtering in. “I’d ask you to move in with me,” he hesitated to say, “but I don’t think that’s fair to you or what you really want. And your mom knows people with backhoes.”

Mama would harm him for sure if that happened, even though we were already living together. But choosing to continue seemed different, which was weird when you really thought about it. Yet somehow it made sense. I knew it was time to live life in the real world again, to see if we could really make it together, but living apart. And he was right—I didn’t only want to live with him.

“I hope to ensure your survival.” I kissed him.

“That is greatly appreciated.” He grinned before smoothing my cheek with his thumb. “We’re going to make this work. Come every Friday night, I’m yours for the weekend. And we’ll talk every day during the week.”

---