Page 99 of Only the Small Bones
“That’s you and your mother. It was after a performance with her band. I tracked down one of the members some years ago. He let me have it.”
I couldn’t have been any older than five, maybe a little younger. I ran a finger over her hair. Her curls were loose and did what they wanted to do, just like mine.
“It’s black, just like yours.” He tucked my hair behind my ear.
“I can’t remember the color of my mother’s hair, or even if I have her name correct.”
“A-and her name?”
William smiled. “Isabella.”
“I knew it,” I cried softly, pressing the photograph to my lips. “I knew it.” I looked at William who seemed to be barely holdinghimself together. I threw myself on top of him, hugging him with all the gratitude I felt in my heart.
“I love you, Asher.” The words were low. I would’ve missed them if he hadn’t spoken them into my ear. I pulled back, my happy-happy tears falling all over him.
“I loved you first,” I breathed, and when he laughed, I joined in.
“So it’s a competition now, huh?” His joy glued together some of the remaining broken pieces in me.
I set the picture frame aside, picking up the lube before straddling him. I got us both ready before lowering onto him. I waited there, running my fingers over his lips, before trailing them down my neck, right over the hickey he’d given me. William sat up, running his nose along my throat and across my collarbone, inhaling the scent of my skin the way he loved to do. He settled back down after that, and I started to move.
I rode him slowly this time as we gazed into each other’s eyes, neither of us wanting to miss a second of it. I promised to spend the rest of my life loving him, to do the work needed to make that happen. My suffering hadn’t been for nothing, not if in the end it brought me to him.
“They didn’t win,” I whispered, rolling my hips. “They didn’t win.”
William
Five Months Later
The bells above the entrance chimed as I walked into The Daisy. Franky smiled over at me while removing his tool belt near the bar. “They’re in the back competing like children,” he said, shaking his head.
“As expected,” I chuckled, making my way to the art studio.
The Daisy was one of only a few places where Asher felt safe. After we’d frequented it enough times, he took Leland up on his offer to host the art brunch every first and last Sunday of the month. Somehow it always turned into them dividing the room and making the event a competition.
The bar was intimate, less overwhelming during the afternoon, which made it easier for him to give it a try. He’d made both Franky and Leland aware of his background, without going into too many details. They’d become protective of him because of it. That made things easier on me too, because I still lived in fear of something happening to him, or him being taken again.
I slipped through the studio door and watched quietly from the back.
“I’m winning this time,” Leland said, crossing his arms while one of the waitresses took on the role of judge. She scanned the finished pieces, checking to see which side did a better job—therefore deciding who did the better job instructing them.
“You never win,” Asher reminded him, laughing when Leland glared. The small crowd held their canvases up with pride, each side of the room good-naturedly trash talking the other.
Asher was crowned the winner, and Leland led the losing side in a chorus of boos. I clapped from my spot near the door, drawing Asher’s attention.
He hopped off the stage, weaving through the tables to get to me, throwing his arms around my neck. “I missed you,” he said, accepting my kiss.
“Get a room!” Leland shouted.
Asher shook with silent laughter. “Ignore him. He’s just a sore loser.”
“How was your session with Dr. Shwartz this morning?” Today was a big day. We had two important stops to make before heading to my mother’s house for dinner. I’d spoken to my therapist about it, which helped with some of my anxiety. Asher was supposed to do the same.
“It went okay, I guess. She encouraged my decision, but I’m not sure how much it helped. I still feel unsure about it.”
I knew from our joint sessions that it could be hard to break through to Asher immediately. Sometimes rationality didn’t kick in for him until much later. He was like that outside of therapy too.
“You’ll be fine. And I’ll be right there with you.” We stepped out of the way so the patrons could exit the studio. Asher said bye to them all as they passed.
