Page 62 of Zeppelin
The room falls silent when I stop talking. I finally look up and find Ginny biting down on her lower lip. She doesn’t know what to say. She leans just a little bit closer, so this time, our legs do touch. I need that silent solidarity.
“I think- I think that I need to do that. I need to see the world and learn about other cultures, and life, and just… myself. I need to learn how to be alone with myself. I need to be okay with things I’ve never been okay with. I’ve spent my entire life running away from my thoughts that it’s time I faced them.”I’m expecting harsh words, a rebuke. I don’t know what. Maybe have her ask why I can’t do all of this in Hart. And she’s right, why would I choose now to leave her side to go on some self-discovery journey? But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I had to. If I’m going to be any kind of a male role model to the baby, then I need to sort out my shit now, and not after they’re born.
Instead of shouting, Ginny reaches across my lap and takes my hand. She twists her fingers through mine, taking care of me silently the same way I took care of her earlier, at the clinic.
“I need Jack,” I say, my voice gone to gravel. “He’s not here. He’ll never be here again. I’m doing this for us, because he never got to follow his dream. I’m also doing it for me, because I need it. Because I’m still here, I’m alive, and I want to actuallylive. I know you’ll hate me, but I hope that you don’t. I hope you can forgive me.”
She sucks in a breath and hums low in her throat, an injured sound that churns my stomach. “I don’t hate you, Zep. Never.”
All of me heats up at the way she says it. It floods me with hope, that it might actually be true. “I can’t just stay and offer you nothing but unrealized potential. I’m starting to realize I can bemore, but I need togetthere. I don’t want to keep you waiting for a man who never materializes. I need to heal myself before I can help you with anything at all, or be the kind of man a child can look up to.”
She gapes at me, then swallows loudly. “Have you… uh… been talking to someone?” I know she’s trying to be tactful.
I laugh wryly. “Podcasts again. It’s amazing what’s out there.”
“I think that you might be closer than you know.” All my coiled breath escapes in a long sigh when she squeezes my hand before releasing it. She runs her palm up and down my leg, by my knee and then back up a few inches. “You’re smarter and more sensitive than you know. You have the biggest heart, and you don’t even realize it.” She blinks rapidly like she’s trying to hold back the tears.
“I’ll be back long before the baby’s born,” I say, needing to reassure her. Her hand stops, clutching my knee. “I’m not trying to leave you alone. I would never go if you had no one. I’m not trying to cut you out or cut you off. I still want to talk, if you want that too. Just because I’m not here, it doesn’t mean that I can’t be herefor you. I swear to you that I’m coming back.”
“I get it, Zep. I’m not mad. I’m not hurt. You’ve explained everything in a very well thought out way.”
I know I’m looking at her like I want her to say no. Like I want her to tell me to stay. I would, if she asked me to.
She knows that would be the worst thing she could ever do.
So, she doesn’t.
She gives me exactly what I need.
Grace. Understanding. Encouragement. Love, in her own way.
“I’m so proud of you for doing this.” She catches me off guard. At the clinic, I thought about how much you’ve changed. How we’vebothchanged. How sometimes life ages you years in just a few minutes, and it’s not always for the worst.”
My chest swells, my ribs aching like I’ve wrecked my bike and skidded along the pavement, only to have it end up on top of me, crushing me until I can’t breathe.
“You should send me the links for whatever you’ve been listening to.” Her tone is full of self-deprecation. I hate that, but she smiles through it. “It’s okay. I can admit that there’s more than enough room for improvement for me too. Just because I didn’t have a lot of childhood trauma doesn’t mean that I can’t still grow.”
“Ginny—”
“No, really. Learning about how to love is never a bad thing. You can always love more. There’s no limit.” She traces a stain on my jeans with her index finger. “I have no experience with romantic love. Maybe I didn’t meet the right person, or- or maybe there’s something inside me I didn’t realize needs adjusting or fixing. I always thought I knew who I was, but I think I might have been partly wrong.”
“I don’t think you were.” I turn her chin so that she has to look at me. It takes so much bravery for us to sit here and look each other in the eye. “You have to allow for change.”
“Maybe I just didn’t understand.”
“I didn’t understand either.”
“I’m scared,” she admits. “Excited about everything that’s coming, but scared too.”
“Me too.” Why is it the hardest thing of all to admit that?
She closes her eyes, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks. I want to kiss them. I want to lean into her, set my head on her chest, and just listen to her breathe. Have her fingersrunning gently through my hair. I want all the close, tender things that I would have scoffed at before knowing her.
“I don’t know where this is going, and I know it’s the wrong thing to say right now, but I’ll miss you.”
“That’s not the wrong thing to say.”
“I’ll miss you in ways I understand and in ways that I don’t.”
