Page 101 of Deliverance

The ones from Tina go to mycheck next yearpile.

The ones from my mother go to mycheck sometime this yearpile.

The ones from everyone else go to mycheck when in the mood to get slapped in the face by realitypile.

Oddly, Zander hasn’t returned my last text.

I’m mature enough to know he’s probably busy at the studio and there’s no reason to freak, but he’s usually pretty quick to respond, and I wonder if he purposely keeps his phone close because he’s waiting to hear from me.

The thought makes my heart flutter and I wiggle in my chair, which doesn’t escape Santiago’s sight.

“Someone’s looking very flustered.” He scrunches his nose and waits for me to elaborate.

I don't know where to start, because my mind is suddenly running wild, so I continue to munch on my food for several long moments until things in my head finally start making some sort of sense.

“He’s not what I expected,” I say eventually as I toss my noodles around my plate.

“How do you mean?”

“He’s…gentle. In a really eccentric way. And honest.”

“Honesty is one quality people are definitely lacking these days,” Santiago states.

“He seems so…rough around the edges, but he’s not. And it scares me a little.”

“Since when?”

“Since I’m not sure I can give him what he’s looking for.”

“I said it before and I’ll say it again.” Santiago’s expression becomes serious. “You overthink everything. Especially when it comes to men or relationships with men.”

My blood turns ice-cold in my veins, and I snap, “Wouldn’t you after being married to someone like Rhys?” My chopsticks fly across the table and land on the floor with a tiny clank.

“Whoa! Don’t need to be so aggressive. I’m just here to help. You don’t want to talk about it with a therapist. You don’t want to talk about it in a group. You don’t want to talk about it with me! Well, you're gonna have to talk about it with someone!”

“I don’t want to talk about it, because I don’t want to fuck it up!”

“Guess what, Drew?” Santiago’s mouth twists, and for a second, I believe he’s going to throw his own chopsticks at me, but he doesn’t. “You can’t fuck up something you don’t start.”

“Just because you’re over your own goddamn trauma and ready to screw anything that moves doesn’t mean I am.”

Santiago jumps to his feet, red spreading to his cheeks. The legs of the chair scrape against the concrete. “And just because I’m not drowning in self-pity doesn’t mean I’m overmy—as you call it—trauma. Not for a fucking second! But I’m not going to let that piece of shit ruin my life. And I’m tired of watching you ruining yours over some cunt who deserves to fucking rot in hell!”

“What do you know about my life?” I come back, my voice rattling around my words as they leave my mouth.

“Exactly!” Santiago flings his toned arms in the air. “Nothing! Because you don’t tell me shit, Drew! Because you'd rather be a big fish in a small pond instead of a whale in a goddamn ocean.”

The moment he says this, I regret confiding in him about my offer from Tina. I never thought making adult decisions about my future would be so hard.

Oh, wait! I never had to do that before. Rhys decided everything for me. The clothes I wore. The food I made. The things I said while he fucked me.

The music in the background punctuates the heavy silence between us. We stare at each other as endless seconds pass until Santiago finally decides to speak up again. This time his voice is calmer.

“I know you don’t like when I push you so hard, and sometimes I’m not sure I should, but you’ve cut yourself completely off from the world. You’ve become so blind that you don’t see the opportunity to really make something out of all this.” He motions at the walls. “It’s right there, dangling in front of you, begging to be seized. All you have to do is reach out, take it, and fucking own it. Career, relationships, friendships. Everything you’ve lost, you can get back. The Universe is giving it to you on a silver platter, but, babe”—he takes a deep breath—“the Universe doesn’t have a good track record of being kind and patient forever. Those opportunities may no longer be on the table tomorrow.”

My heart hammers away. I hate when truth is thrown in my face in such an audacious manner.

“The time is now, Drew.” Santiago’s shoulder hitches up in a small devil-may-care shrug. “I just want you to be happy. I want you to have all those things he took from you.”

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