Page 71 of Falling Backwards
But I keep returning to the facts that hit me last night when she was on the edge of a breakdown and I seemed to be the only person who could save her.
I voice them now.“Because no matter how angry I’ve ever been at you, I’ve never truly hated you.I’ve never been so mad at you that I would stand aside and watch something hurt you.You can get on my nerves all goddamn day—and sometimes you do—but I still don’t wanna see you in danger.”
Her breaths aren’t quite steady.
Her expression is softening so much it almost goes sweet.
My head is such a wreck right now that that look has another truth falling out of my mouth before I can stop it.
“And I wouldn’t have to pretend you’re attractive.Youarethat.You’ve been that to me since the first time I saw you.”
All at once now, her brow creases and her eyes close and she turns her face away.
I don’t know if this is a good or bad thing by her standards.
Or by my own.
New silence grows between us, the only sounds those of our working lungs and the apartment being an apartment.
I finally decide to shuffle back from her and mosey around.Give her some space in case she has such a fast heartbeat that she feels winded, like I suddenly do.
Takes me a full minute to chill out, it seems.
I’m looking through a big window to check that all is in order outside—and it is—when her quiet voice comes.
“If we do this, coordinating our schedules might get tricky.”
I turn to face her again.“I don’t mind.”
From across the way, her eyes are back on me.She, too, seems more collected than before.“What if I take up a lot of your free time?”
“Couples are supposed to spend their free time together.”I pause.“Surely we can agree on things to do just like we used to.”
She considers that.“What about how often we argue?Won’t we look unconvincing and weak if we do that when we’re supposed to be happy together?”
“I’d wondered that myself, but the answer is simple, really: couples also argue.”I shrug.“Even the most solid ones.No one is happy a hundred percent of the time.”
As she considers that, too, she looks at me.Over these long moments, her expression seems to grow nervous or reluctant or something.
“What about, uh…” she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, “…um, PDA?’Cause we’re not in the habit of touching each other anymore.”
Just like it did the many times I thought of that myself, my stomach dips and flips.I can’t help skipping a look over her body, her face—especially her mouth.
She would probably slap the piss out of me if I tried to kiss that mouth, even for the sake of the ruse, and in a couple of ways, I’d want to slap myself.
But another truth is undeniable, so I say, “I think we’d have to be willing to dosomethings.What would look truly unconvincing and weak is if we bickered and never held hands or kissed cheeks or anything.”
I wonder if her hands really twitch like mine do or if my brain has made that tiny motion up.
“I guess so,” she agrees in a murmur.“Solid couples don’t do that.They’re balanced.”
“Yeah.”
“We could still have rules, though.”
“Definitely.I’ve already thought of some general ones.”
“Hm.”
