Page 40 of Love and Other Mental Health Concerns
“Are there other things that help you stay stable?” He asks without judgment in his tone, just curiosity.
“Yes, I go to therapy on and off as I need to. I take medications, I do online support groups when I need those too. I exercise, I sleep more when I am able, and I know to pay attention to the cues my body gives me. My apartment is my safe space for this reason, it’s a space that helps me feel grounded.” His blue eyes haven’t left mine, but I am dying for him to give me any indication of how he is feeling about the dump of information I have just bestowed up on him.
Finally, he asks, “What changed?” Tenderness in his voice helping me push through my nerves.
“Which part?”
“What changed to make you feel like you could take a chance on some romance in your life?” Well shit, and I thought I wouldn’t have to get more vulnerable. Why stop now?
“Transparency?” Stealing his word from him.
“Please, don’t stop now.”
“Okay, well…” Why does it feel like a bigger risk to tell someone you like them than it does to tell them you weren’t sure you wanted to be alive? “…For the first time in six years, someone came into my life who seemed worth risking my sanity for again. Your encouragement of me, understanding of my work and passions, the way you look at me, how easy it is to talk to you.” Everything about him continues to soften, his touches and glances so warm that I could melt right here and be thankful for it.
“You didn’t mention seeing me shirtless.” He shakes his head in mock disappointment, which makes me laugh.
“Oh yes, sorry, I saw you shirtless.” I say through my giggle.
“Phew, okay, go on.” He encourages while he keeps drawing little circles on my palm with his thumb.
“I am stronger now, I grew up a lot, attended a lot of therapy, learned to care for myself so that I never find my way to that place again. The way I feel when I am around you, I realize that the reward of being with you is worth the risk. The risk is also not as steep as it once was.” He has that smile on that goes from ear to ear.
“I’m honored you will take a chance with me. You won’t regret it, Marcy.”
“I know. And I’m sorry if I just made things too serious or too heavy.” Unsure of how to proceed and nerves firing, I start to speak again but he interrupts.
“No, don’t do that. You never need to apologize to me for what makes you, you. You are exquisite, and assuming you willlet me keep spending time with you, I want to be included in that inner circle of yours. Those few that get the real you.”
I smile at him, the relief of sharing this part of myself with someone after years of limitations is an unfathomable release. I suddenly feel a buoyancy that I have ever felt before.
“Seems like we are both trying something new with each other,” he acknowledges, still holding my hand. “Then he pauses and looks up abruptly. “Did you say six years?”
I flush, “Yes.”
“So yesterday, in my office, that was the first time in six years…” he trails off.
“Yes, that was the first time in six years that I kissed someone else. The first time someone has made me…well, ya know, in that long.” I’m heating in both embarrassment and the memories of yesterday afternoon flooding back. Secretly, I am relieved at the change in subject, but this is a whole other minefield.
“You were so…ready.” Now I can tell he’s reliving it too, his dirty thoughts practically a holograph on our table. I am suddenly hyper aware of my nipples as I watch his stare darken and his jaw clench ever so subtly. I am so sick of my own nerves, so sick of the “what ifs” that have plagued me, and it feels like my brain, heart, and body are finally in alignment when it comes to the temptation that has been Nick Anderson.
“Yes, I was.” My eyes locked on his.
“We should get dessert…now.” I don’t argue, even if I have only eaten a few bites of dinner. I have an entirely different type of appetite now.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nick
Six years.
Marcy has waited six years to take a chance on someone, and that someone is me. My first attempt at a serious relationship, with a woman I couldn’t admire more, and the stakes are even higher than I realized.
I can’t fuck this up.
I am seriously regretting having told her that I would try and sleep with her after dinner. The yesterday version of me thought I was being flirtatious and teasing, but now I realize that I put unnecessary pressure on this evening. God, I hope she doesn’t feel coerced to do anything because of my big mouth. This woman deserves to be wooed, deserves to take her time before jumping into something.
Now the hook-up on my desk is feeling…well it was still the hottest thing to ever happen to me, who am I kidding? No regrets.
