Page 56 of Lighting the Lamp
“Like…kissedyou, kissed you?” Michele giggles softly, her face bright with the happiness I wish I were feeling in this moment.
“Yes. He kissed me as if it were a promise, not a mistake. No confusion. No maybe. It was real, and?—”
“And you liked it.” Ramona wraps her arm around my shoulder, pulling me further into her side.
“I more than liked it. I think I forgot how to breathe during it. I think I forgot my name,” I whisper, and hot, unwelcome tearsprick at the corners of my eyes. “But then I woke up in his bed, and I fucking panicked, Mona.”
“Why?” Michele asks gently.
“Because everything felt right.”
My breath catches as I put the mug down so I don’t drop it and push to my feet. I start to pace—tight, frantic steps like I can outrun the way my heart is trying to claw out of my chest.
“I woke up wrapped in him, like we belonged to each other. I felt that, for the first time, it wasn’t just for temporary comfort or a one-night fluke. And I didn’t know what to do with that. I didn’t know what to do with how much I wanted it to be true.”
“Waking up too close to your feelings is a rough way to start the day.” Ramona nods solemnly.
I bark a laugh, sharp and bitter. “You think?”
“Second only to Darius kicking the door open and yelling about muffins. Which, by the way, happened.”
My whole body flushes. “I know.”
“He saw?” Michele gasps.
“Yes. Everything. The blankets. The position. My knee was between Beau’s legs.”
“Girl.” Ramona giggles, using both her hands to fan her face
“I tried to get up, but then he caught me. And then Darius yelled, so I fell on top of Beau like a whole-ass rom-com trope. It was mortifying.”
Michele leans over to Ramona and whispers loudly, “She says mortifying, but I hear hot.”
“I hear long overdue.” Ramona smirks.
“I hear trauma,” I say flatly, and all three of us crack up at once.
The sound tumbles out of me, breaking the tightness that has been growing in my chest since the moment I woke up in Beau’s arms.
“So… what are you gonna do?”
Of course, she couldn’t leave well enough alone. What I want to do and what I am going to do are two totally different things. They both have to know that this is a bad idea and can never work, but how do I put that into words they will understand? Instead of taking time to think of the perfectly formulated answer, the words spill out of my mouth.
“I’ve spent my whole life trying to avoid needing people because needing them means they can leave. It means they can change their minds. And Beau… makes me want things. He makes me want to hope, and I don’t know how to live in that place without screwing everything up.”
“You’re not screwing anything up, Alise.” Ramona’s voice cuts through the air like a balm.
“I am.” My voice cracks. “I left him. I couldn’t even look at him when I walked out of that room.”
The words hang heavy in the air, and the silence that follows is deafening. My chest feels too tight, like there’s not enough air in the world to breathe this feeling away. My hands are trembling, and I don’t know if it’s from it’s from leftover adrenaline or the sheer panic clawing at my ribs.
“I just…” I swallow hard, but it doesn’t help. “I don’t know how to stop loving him. And it’s exhausting carrying these feelings around like they’re mine alone and I have to protect him from them.”
I blink fast, but the tears still come, hot and angry. “I love Beau. I have for years, but I’ve spent so long being the person he runs to and leaves. If he needs something, he comes to me. I’m the one to cushion his fall or to make things better when he hits rock bottom, but what happens when things are better again? When he isn’t worried about never playing hockey again. Will he still want me then?”
“Alise, fear doesn’t mean you’re broken. It just means it matters.” Michele leans forward as I pass, grasping my hand and pulling me to a stop.
“You don’t have to know yet.” Ramona grabs my other hand and squeezes. “You just have to stop running before he convinces himself you don’t want him.”
