Page 104 of David's Love

“All I wanted was to tell you where I was. I want to be open about it since I don’t want to lose you because of some stupid misunderstanding,” he says. “You take your time, draw your own conclusions, and then let me know how you feel about me.”

Honestly, so many emotions are lodged in my throat that I’m afraid to open my mouth to speak and shed some of the burning tears pricking my eyes.

I don’t know where I am––he’s right. But I’m way deeper into this story than I thought I was.

I’m so deep in it that I couldn’t wait for his confession and have gone snooping around, looking for more information.

Is this the time to break it up to him? Probably not.

I want so badly not to tear up, but that might not happen.

Words don’t come to me, and my thoughts are matted, so there’s no point in trying to say something smart or thoughtful.

To hide my emotions, I lean to him and wrap my arm around his neck.

He frees my hand so I can loop the other arm around his neck and pulls me into his chest.

My tears fall onto his shoulder, burning like fire and sincere. I hope he doesn’t feel the little puddles.

How could he not?

So, I let it all go with my forehead pressed into his shoulder, rivers of emotions streaming from my eyes.

Sensing my struggles, he slowly pats my back.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumble against his shoulder. “I didn’t want this to happen,” I add, sniffling and running my fingers under my eyes. “Me crying like this.”

It’s all out in the open now.

I’m crying for all the moments I’ve been tough and tried to win at the big game of life.

All those moments in which I was sassy and creative

And he offers me approving silence and comfort I never thought I’d have in the arms of a man.

When my eyes start to dry, I feel lighter, no longer carrying a burden, and I straighten and try to put a smile on my face.

His eyes meet mine, and I find myself, my words, and my thoughts.

It doesn’t feel awkward to have him witness all of this.

He seems proud of who I am and reacts to me.

Like he’s in love with me.

“So what do we do now?” I ask, my voice different than the one uttering the original question that brought us here.

“Now we drink wine, eat pie, have sex, and sleep for as long as we want. I have nowhere to go tomorrow morning, and I hope you have nowhere to go, too.”

He tenderly strokes my cheek.

“And then?”

“I go to work on Monday, and you show up on Tuesday. Julie, my assistant, will show you around like she’d normally do. We’ll continue to keep this private so we can ease everybody in without facing too many questions. When the time is right, they’ll know we’re together.”

He reads my eyes.

“If that’s okay with you.”

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