Page 112 of Tamed By You

Six hours later, what was meant to be a three-mile jog turned into a power walk, followed by a coffee with Ria and then the Pilates class from hell where I was told to pose, hold, and bend my body in ways the human body wasn’t made to. I am exhausted. But even though I hate admitting when I am wrong, I do feel good. The best I’ve felt since the day I got the letter.

We both showered, threw on our sweats, and ordered Thai food from our favorite takeout. Candles lit, our thick fall blankets out, it feels nice and cozy in our apartment as the September evening starts drawing in a little. A dark cloud has covered New York, and the smell of rain is in the air. I find rain oddly soothing. I find peace in it, which is likely why my go to safe space is the shower. For me, it’s a place where my untamed soul can be cleansed, a place where no one could tell if I was crying, a place where I come out of it feeling lighter, a little freer. The rain, just like my showers, washes away any dirt or impurities, it sets everything to right because after rain comes clear skies, and sometimes with it, a rainbow.

Gabby’s phone buzzes on the coffee table as we tuck into our Thai food whilst watching re-runs ofSex and the City.

“Who’s that?” I ask, eyeing her curiously, noticing how quickly she jumped to get the phone.

“Oh, erm Patrick,” she answers vaguely, placing it face down on the couch and tucking back into her food.

“What did he want?” I ask, in between bites of my curry.

“He just wanted to invite me over, but I’ll see him another time.”

I drop my fork into my bowl, realization hitting me. She, like all our friends, has been putting their lives on hold to hold me up. Guilt hits me in the gut. I can’t allow this anymore.

“Go, go see him.”

She turns to face me. “No, no, we are having a girls’ night. I’ll see him another night. I’m not leaving you.”

“Gabs, I’ll be fine. I have to be alone at some point. Please, go see him. You haven’t seen him in ages.”

She stares at me, conflict evident in her eyes. I know she wants to go, but I know she also wants to stay here with me, scared I won’t cope.

“Please, if I need you, I will call you. I swear.” She eyes me suspiciously. “Scout's honor,” I mock, putting my fingers to the side of my head to salute her and she chuckles.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, go, please. I will be fine here with my Thai food and Sarah Jessica Parker.”

She places her empty bowl on the table. “Promise me you will call. I won’t stay out. I’ll be a few hours and I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be fine. Take as long as you want.”

She presses a kiss to my head and jumps up. Throwing on her jean jacket and taking her key and phone, she reconfirms she won’t be long, and she leaves.

And suddenly I’m alone. I finish my curry and busy myself with washing the dishes, jumping in fright when a loud clap of thunder echoes through my apartment, followed by the hammering of rain on the glass.

I return to the couch, wrapping the fleece blanket around me, wincing a little at another boom of thunder. Suddenly I’m very aware I am alone, fear creeping in, seeping into my skin, flooding my body. I have the urge to flee, to find comfort in something, or someone. A strong need to rid my body of this suffocating feeling, a feeling that I would usually ease with unhealthy coping skills.

I always used to think it was weak to want someone, to need them, to rely on them but I’m slowly learning there is a strength in handing over the most vulnerable parts of yourself to someone, to trust someone with those parts of you. Words Iwas told when I was spiraling so fast, I feared I could never come back.

I close my eyes, listening to the pattering of rain against my window, tossing my phone between my hands, battling with my head and heart. Wishing more than anything I felt brave enough to tell him that right now, in this moment, not only do I want him, but I need him.

Chapter Fifty-Three

Harry

Three… two… one. I fall back on the mat on the gym floor, my abs burning from the vigorous routine I just put them through. I’m lucky my building has a gym. I’m not usually one for cardio, but today I pounded that treadmill till the rubber nearly wore away. I’ve so much adrenaline running through my body at the minute, a mixture of longing for her, missing her, wanting her, needing her.

Giving her space has been the hardest thing. Going at her pace, praying she will one day want me again the way I want her. Not just physically, but emotionally. I miss hanging out with her, miss our physical connection, how she just fitted perfectly in my arms, our little jokes, waking up with her body pressed against mine. I miss the way she laughs, the way her eyes sparkle when she’s excited, how she cries at every movie we have everwatched, even though she would never admit it. I miss watching her take her make up off at the end of a long day, and the way she smiles when she realizes I’ve been watching her.

I miss all of her.

“Fuck,” I hiss out loud, pushing myself up, reaching for my towel, and wiping the beads of sweat off my forehead.

I head back up to my apartment, showering and changing into some sweatpants and matching sweatshirt. This evening feeling a little chillier, Fall clearly on its way. Sitting on my couch, I toss my phone from hand to hand, waiting for her call. Contemplating if I should call her.

No, you said she was in control. Let her call you.

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