Page 93 of When We Were More
Fuck, the vulnerability she just showed has stunned me.
Her eyes beg me to say something that will take away her fear, but I want to be careful not to give her empty words.I take a minute to gather my thoughts, trying to figure out how to phrase them. She must mistake it for hesitance, because suddenly she flies out of bed and is at the bathroom door before I can get any words out.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m giving mixed signals. Listen?—”
“Matilda…”
I sit up at the side of the bed, and that makes her retreat into the bathroom, her hand on the handle.
“Listen, forget I said anything. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make it weird.” I move to stand, and her eyes widen. “I’m gonna shower. You should go.”
Before I can get to her, she’s shut herself in the bathroom and turned the shower on. I don’t make a habit of walking into the bathroom when someone else is in there, but to hell with it. She’s spiraling, and I need to stop it.
When I reach the door, I turn the handle and find that she has locked it.I rest my forehead against the closed door.
“Matilda?”
She doesn’t respond. I sigh, step back, and pick up my clothes to get dressed. I head downstairs and put a pot of coffee on. Afterit’s finished brewing, I make us each a cup. I drink my entire mug while staring out the window over the sink—I could stare at this view for hours—and she still hasn’t come down. I heard the old pipes rattle when she turned the shower off ten minutes ago. I reheat her cup of coffee in the microwave, planning to drink it myself, and I make her a fresh cup.
I’m working my way to the living room when I hear that creak from the fifth stair, telling me she’s on her way down. I halt in the doorway between the kitchen and the family room.
I see Matilda, but it’s clear she doesn’t see me yet as she slowly prowls down the steps, acting as if danger lurks around every corner. I guess to a heart that hasn’t been treated right by the opposite sex, it probably feels that way.
When I see her stealthily peek out the front window, clearly searching for my truck, I decide to make my presence known.
“Whatcha looking for, tiger?”
“Fuck!” Tillie jumps, grabbing onto the curtain, and she accidentally rips it down. I chuckle as she gets wrapped up in the material and flails to free herself. When she manages to unwrap the fabric from her curves, she throws the cloth on the floor and turns to glare at me, hands on her hips.
“Jesus, Henry. You don’t sneak up on someone like that.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m not the one who was doing the sneaking…” I notice then that she’s wearing my sweatshirt that I gave her for Christmas. “Nice sweatshirt. Big improvement from the other one.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re an ass. And I hope one of those coffees is for me.”
“It is. Leave the curtain, I’ll fix it before I leave. Come have coffee with me.”
I walk to the couch, and she joins me. We sit quietly for a few minutes. I’ve not said anything yet, wanting to give her a chanceto speak first, if that’s what she wants. Since she hasn’t, I assume that it’s okay to talk.
“It was more.”
She turns and stares at me, tilting her head, and her forehead wrinkles. “Huh?”
“Last night. It felt like more because itwasmore. Itismore.” I watch her closely for any signs of panic. So far, I see none. “Is that okay with you?”
She doesn’t answer right away, and my heart pounds.
“I don’t know,” she whispers. I open my mouth to reply, but she holds up a hand to stop me. “It frightens me. But the alternative is we truly and fully end our… our situation.”
There have been a few times in my life when anxiety hit me suddenly, like when I pressed the submit button for an exam that would derail my career if I didn’t pass. You push it and wait for the automated result while your heart races and pounds. That’s what’s happening to me at this exact moment.
But I have to know.
“Is that what you want to do? End our ‘situation?’” Fuck that’s hard even to ask.
She bites her lips for a few seconds. “No, and yes. But let me explain. I don’t want it to be a ‘situation’ anymore. I just want to be us. Last night, when we were more, I loved how that felt.”
I reach for her hand and hold it, trying to encourage her to continue sharing.
