Page 36 of The Crush
I try to concentrate on taking slow deep breaths, on letting him feel the way my chest rises and falls. My forehead presses between his shoulder blades, and before long, I am equally as drenched from the spray even with his body shielding mine. All the while, I murmur soothing sounds against his skin, brushing my lips against him every so often.
I’m not sure how long it takes before he starts breathing more evenly, but it’s long enough that I’m shivering too by the time his strong chest starts mirroring the rhythm of my own. Longer still before one of his hands leaves the wall to clasp one of mine.
“Fuck,” he mutters, sounding more like himself, and I want to cry from relief as I hug him tight. “It’s freezing in here.”
“A bit.” I’m trying not to push, but all I can think is that I need to wrap the both of us up in a thousand blankets. “You want to get out?”
When he nods, I reach forward from behind him to shut off the water, worried again when he doesn’t immediately move. I step out first, wrapping myself in a towel before grabbing a couple for him. He still seems like he’s not entirely here, but at least he lets me put a towel around him and lead him out to the bed. I sit him on the edge and start to gently dry his soaking wet hair while he stares at the floor.
“Danny, look at me.” It takes him a minute, a few more deep breaths, but he finally does, and there’s so much pain in those brown eyes I adore. “Whatever happened…it’s over. You made it back home.”
His hands reach out to stroke my sides before settling on my hips. “I shouldn’t have.”
My chest hurts, old fears fighting for the surface. “Danny—”
“The things I keep…” He shakes his head and looks away, down at the floor again. “All those people.So manypeople died. They’restilldying.”
I shuffle closer, try to be still while he’s shaking, and his head comes forward to rest against my abdomen as I wrap my arms around him.
“I wanted to dosomething. But none of it mattered… I keep reading the papers, and all I can think is what if I just helped make it worse?”
He’s quiet for a long time as I try to figure out what to say. Is there even anything? I’ve read the papers, too. I’ve seen the headlines on how much business is booming for the newly appointed cartel kings. I can’t imagine how defeating it must feel for him, how hard it must be to keep seeing the evidence even when he’s given up his badge.
“There were so many times I thought my number was up,” he continues. “I guess I’d kind of made my peace with it. And then that night by the water…” He pauses, pulling away from me as if just realizing he’s been speaking. “I’m sorry. I…I woke you up.”
“It’s okay.” I can feel him pulling away from the topic, too, hiding it away. “Danny, what night by the water?”
He looks up at me, and I know from the resolve in his eyes that he won’t tell me. That regardless of how heavy it is on his shoulders, he won’t let me carry it with him.
Instead, all I can do is stand with him until he lets me take him back to bed. And I let it be enough that he came back to me, even if he won’t say from where. I let it be enough. For now.
Thirty
Daniel
Sunday, October 2, 1994
Isabel’s still sleeping, lying on her side with the covers at her waist and her arms outstretched. Her brow furrowed into a deep frown that I reach out to smooth with my fingertips, liking the way she shifts into my touch even while she’s asleep.
“Bonita.” My hand brushes her cheek, then her arm. “You have to get up.”
“Five more minutes,” she mumbles as her pout reappears.
“If we don’t go soon, you’ll miss your bus.”
“Good.” She wraps her arms around her pillow like a tether. “I don’t want to go back anyway.”
“Neither do I.”
She cracks an eye open at my admission, smiling softly when she sees me, but from the way she’s covertly looking me over, I know she’s also thinking about last night. And maybe the still-lingering pain of that memory for me is also part of what makes my next words easier.
“I’ve been thinking. What if, when we went back…we try to get people used to the idea?”
The corner of her mouth turns down in confusion. “To the idea of?”
“This,” I say. “Us.”
She sits up, sleepy gaze going wide. “Really?”
