Page 194 of Dear #47, You're the Worst
“I just couldn’t let him talk about you like that. I couldn’t?—”
“I know why you did it.”
“Are you mad?”
I think about it for a moment. Three months ago, I would have been furious. Would have seen it as a professional catastrophe, a sign that all our work had been for nothing.
Now I just see a man who loves me enough to lose control when someone tries to destroy me.
“No,” I say finally. “I’m not mad.”
But something else is building inside me as we drive home. Something bigger and more terrifying than anger. Patrick’s words keep echoing in my head, not because I believe them, but because they’ve triggered something I’ve been trying not to think about.
Back at the apartment, I pace in front of the windows while Hunter sits on the edge of the bed, watching me with concern.
“Talk to me.” He says.
I keep pacing. If I stop moving, everything inside me is going to explode.
“Patrick told me I was too much. Too intense. Too ambitious. That I should be grateful he put up with me. And I believed him because I didn’t know what love was supposed to look like. I thought it was supposed to hurt. I thought it was supposed to require a sacrifice of who you are.”
Tears are streaming down my face now.
“And then you come along and you make me feel everything. Every messy, complicated, terrifying emotion I’ve spent my whole life trying to control. You make me want things I never thought I could have. You make me believe I deserve them.”
My voice breaks completely.
“I love you. And it terrifies me. It terrifies me how much I need you. How much I want you to stay. How much it would destroy me if you left.”
I’m sobbing now. Ugly, gasping sobs that shake my whole body.
“I know you want to run,” he says, his voice soothing.
I nod, unable to speak. Hux’s voice is emotional.
“I’m staying right here, Monroe.” He takes another step. “I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not ever, if you’ll let me stay.”
I swallow, feeling overwhelmed. “What if I can’t do this? I’m so badly damaged, Hux. What if things get tough and I run away because I’m too scared?”
“Then we’ll figure it out together.” He offers me his hand, waiting.
Waiting for me.
“What if I hurt you?”
He continues to hold out his hand. “Then I’ll forgive you, baby.”
“And what if you hurt me?”
“Then I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right.”
I stare at him through my tears. This man, who’s seen me at my absolute worst and is still here. He’s still choosing me.
“I don’t know how to do this.” My voice is small. Broken. “I don’t know how to be loved like this.”
“Neither do I. We’ll learn together.”
I take his hand, scanning his face. “I’m terrified.”
