Wrapped in a fluffy robe after a hot shower, I stare at my clean face in the bathroom mirror; it’s tear-
stained and pale. I downed some pain killers before I got in here, in a bid to combat the beginning of a
hangover and feel completely wiped out. I don’t even know if he is still in my room, or if he has gone to
see Natasha, and I am not sure how I feel either way. I’m crazily disconnected inside, that none of this
is real and no closer to a decision at all.
I still love him; I can’t deny that. Last night was incredibly stupid and most likely alcohol-fueled. The
during was not exactly how I thought it would be, but then, part of me knows it’s because I no longer
trust him like I once did. He hurt me in ways that really screwed my head up and last night proved I no
longer felt secure to let him have access to every part of me.
A combination of emotional turmoil, anger, drunkenness and the first time I ever attempted sex with
anyone. It’s no wonder my head went into meltdown, and my lip is sore this morning from the way I bit
it. I still can’t remember where I went or what I did, but I am guessing I probably freaked out. Like I
used to do years ago, and he calmed me down, the way he always did. I don’t even know how to
broach what we did last night. He’s probably wondering what the point is in chasing a girl who can’t
even have sex with him.
Not that I would blame him.
Pulling myself together, I head out into my room, pulling my robe tight and preparing myself for the
empty space that will probably await me. Even I know he wouldn’t just leave her sitting over the street
indefinitely, especially while I spent thirty minutes in the bathroom avoiding him to get my head out of
my ass. He’s too considerate at times, too caring about her, even though they are no longer together.
I want him, yet I don’t. I’m terrified of letting him back in to hurt me, especially with her still hanging
around, but I miss him like crazy and I know I still need him. With him gone there’s the hope of one day
never feeling anything again, but I know I will probably never find anyone else who gets me the way he
always did, the way he does. I’m so confused about what I want. This isn’t how it was supposed to be,
and I don’t exactly feel sure that he even really means any of it anyway. I’ve lost faith in him and it’s
bumped my self-esteem into submission, leaving me feeling insecure and torn. Not sure why I don’t
believe him, only that maybe I am scared, and all of this will fall around my head as it did before. Afraid
to hope.
I wander out, looking down at my robe as I tie it, sighing at the silence of my room and realizing he’s no
longer at the window or even anywhere in the space in front of me. I turn to face my wardrobe and
jump with fright at him laid out on my bed, watching me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He rises to a sitting position, looking exhausted and not the
usual pulled together Arrick that I know. He’s still in the same clothes, rumpled and unshaven so it’s
clear he never left the room while I took an age in there. For him to show these many signs of
tiredness, means it must be bad and I feel guilty for a second.
“I thought you would have gone?” I try to keep the pain out of my voice, but my words came out hoarse
and shaky. Walking away from him towards the unit across my room where I keep underwear, in a bid
to get away from him and hide the fact that a shower hasn’t helped me figure anything out at all.
“Everything I want is here.” He says quietly. I pause, ears picking up yet still afraid to tell him that
maybe I want him too. That maybe I want to see if this can work. Somehow admitting any of it is
opening myself up to him fucking me over again and I am so not ready to do that.
“Natasha must be pretty lonesome by now?” I carry on emptily, not sure if I am trying to start a fight or
still push him away instead of an answer. He sighs and slides off the bed to his feet to walk towards
me, my body stiffening as I anticipate his getting closer. Tensing before his touch gets to me as I know
it will only weaken me more.
“She is going back to the city. I’ll talk to her when we go home, there’s not much I could say.” Arrick
sounds pained, clearly hating that he is hurting her still, but obviously certain about where he needs or
wants to be. That tug in my stomach aches a little more and my confusion only deepens.
“So, what now?” I blink up at him over my shoulder as he closes the gap between us, brushing tendrils
of damp hair from my cheek and gazing at me with such tired eyes.
“That’s up to you, baby. I told you what I want, I just need to know if you want to try.” Arrick swallows
noticeably, fingers tracing my cheek, eyes glued to mine for any hint of an answer in my face. Clearly
nervous. I can almost feel his heart rate through his chest, his slightly labored breathing. He mirrors me
in every way, the fear the uncertainty that this person who holds your heart, also holds the key to
destroying it.
“Don’t think you can just win me over with some fast words and kisses, after everything. Don’t think last
night is not an issue either.” I turn away stubbornly, catching the smile forming on his face as I do so.
Something about my response tells him that he has more chance than he thought he did.
“Drunk fucking you was not exactly my shining moment, Sophie. You should have told me that you had
never … We didn’t even think about a condom.” Arrick frowns down at me, concern etched on his face
but all I can focus on is the fact that he doesn’t seem to care that sex was a complete failure. He’s still
trying to get me back despite it.
What’s wrong with him?
“I’m on the contraceptive injection for my period pain, so you can strike that off your list of worries.” I
respond numbly, brain a mass of jumbled words, tetchy and bristling with agitation.
“I guess that’s a relief. And I’m pretty sure neither of us has anything else to pass over. I’ve never had
unprotected sex with anyone else and if you haven’t been near anyone...” He brushes hair from my
face again and frowns harder as he catches my expression.
“Why are you acting like last night wasn’t a failure?” I bite suddenly, frustrated and upset, head
reverting to chaos, pushing his hands off me as that itchy, don’t touch me feeling takes over my skin.
I’m irritated so suddenly because I’m mad at myself and my inability to be normal.
“Because it wasn’t. You think I don’t realize that you don’t trust me anymore? That it plays a huge part
in what happened. I never intended to get you naked and in bed, but it happened, and it’s obvious that
you aren’t ready for that. I have a whole lot of groveling to do before I get back your trust … to touch
you that way. I don’t care if it takes ten years, Sophie. It’s not why I’m here. I’m here because I love you
and life without you beside me is pretty fucking desolate. I want you any way I can get you, even if that
means we never have sex, again.” Arrick’s voice breaks a little, his eyes misting as he pulls me back to
him, stroking my face and turns me to plant a kiss on my forehead, softly, staying against me for a long
moment, somehow cooling the wounded pride inside of me.
“Why do you want someone that’s broken?” I look away from him as tears fill my eyes, unable to feel
comfortable with showing him my vulnerability but can’t stop it. Exhaustion is making me overly
sensitive and I could use sleep. I don’t feel the same way around him that he used to make me feel and
I know it’s going to take time to get that sort of comfiness and dependency back.
“You’re not broken … you just require a different kind of handling, understanding. You’re like a specially
shaped puzzle piece that needs the right slot to fit into.” Arrick reaches down and takes my hand,
pulling my fingers to his chest and presses my palm over his heart with concentration etched that cutely
furrowed brow. His eyes are a soft hazel and he looks content for once. “This slot … A perfect fit.” He
smiles, sounding strained, struggling to keep his voice steady, equally emotional, and obviously trying
so hard to reassure me that I am what he wants. I watch him steadily as another stray tear rolls down
my face at his comparison to something I once called myself, falling to pieces inside, a tiny crumbling of
that wall, yet nothing but fear grips me.
“Give me a shot. A chance to undo what I did, to make this right. I know I can make you happy. No one
knows you the way I do, pretty sure no other guy in the world is as crazily in love with you as I am, or
ever will be. You’re the other part of me, two halves of a whole, pieces of a puzzle that belong
together.” Arrick slides his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, meeting no resistance and
butting me right up so every part of our bodies mold as one and I have no option but to look him in the
eye.
“Maybe Christian?” I smirk through my tears sarcastically, looking at his chest to avoid the way he’s
gazing at me with utter infatuation. It’s what I wanted and yet now it’s unnerving me because I should
feel surer than I do if this is the road to happy ever after, but all there is, is doubt and apprehension.
“He was so close to getting a beating about fifty times. I swear if he didn’t turn out to be gay then I
probably would have broken bones to feel better.” Arrick smiles too, pulls my face to his and leans in
cautiously. Seeing no resistance, he bridges the gap and touches me softly, lips meeting gently and
slowly kisses me. I kiss him back, arms finding a way around his neck of their own accord and open
myself to him, lips parting and responding to the sweetest caress. Letting my instincts take control in a
bid to find my way since my head isn’t doing that great a job.
I finally break away and push him away gently, aware that I am no longer ready to give all in anymore;
a part of me is guarded and unwilling to give him too much. He has a lot to prove to get back into my
heart and my head fully. I’m too bruised.
“I need to get dressed. Give me a few minutes.” I smile softly at him, pulling away to create space and
bringing my robe tighter around me like a protective shield. Arry watches me with a serious expression
and a hint of understanding before he sighs and waves me away.
“Take your time, I need to lay down and stop this room spinning for like five minutes or I’ll be no good to
anyone.” he moves back to my bed and lets himself slump ungracefully on top of my white unused
comforter, pushing pink fluffy cushions aside as he wriggles in to get comfy, making it clear he has no
intention of leaving me. I frown but also find myself smiling unintentionally. The man who has been
absent for months now seems incapable of leaving me be for even minutes and I guess in a way it’s
what I need. I want this from, being left alone will only give me time to convince myself to tell him to
walk away and maybe my pride shouldn’t be so fast to dismiss this.
I turn to my walk-in closet and head towards it once more, to start to get dressed quickly. Pulling on a
short jersey dress and leggings, I stand to stare at my shoulder-length blonde hair and big bright blue
eyes, no longer seeing a child gazing back from my makeup-free face. In the last few months, I seem
to have aged a little, maybe it’s fatigue and my hangover, but I definitely do not look as childish as I did.
Maybe it’s my hair, or the slight weight I lost from not eating properly when I was living in heartbreak, or
maybe real turmoil adds years to a girl. Or maybe it was from last night and taking steps onto the path
to sex, but something in me has changed.
Emerging I realize his breathing has become deeper and slower as though he is asleep, and I hesitate
about disturbing him; not sure if I should or leave him be and eat downstairs, because my stomach is
practically assaulting me from hunger pangs. Walking around the side of the bed to where his face is
exposed and catch him looking at me, fully wide awake and seemingly lost in thought.
“Hey.” Arrick sits up before pulling himself up, sliding down to stand beside me and towering above me
while I’m still barefoot. He leans in and kisses me delicately on the forehead. Coming so close without
physically touching me, still aware that he doesn’t really have the right just yet. An unspoken rule that
he knows that touching is a privilege and not a given.
“Hey.” I smile shyly. Trying to look at those deep soft eyes and not let my head run a hundred miles an
hour again with all the craziness still mashed up in there.
“I was thinking about you, about us.” He reaches out and strokes back a single strand of hair from my
eyebrow lightly, letting his fingers trail down my cheek tenderly when he moves it and then leans in to
rest his forehead against mine.
“And?” I frown up at him. Trying not to go weak at the knees with his touch, resolve weakening with
every moment I am around him, despite myself.
“I think we should go get breakfast and maybe find your friends and Nate and let this lie for now. I can
only start proving that I mean everything I say with actions. You don’t owe me an answer, baby, not until
I prove things to you. I’m not going to pressure you, just be around if you want me to be.” He gives me
that cute boy half-smile with full dimples and I can’t stop myself from doing it back; it’s infectious when
he looks this way. Like he is lifting all pressure from me in one swift move and suddenly I feel more
able to take a breath and relax.
“Sounds like a good plan to me. I need time, Arry … and I am pretty hungry.” I can’t seem to look at him
for long, shyness crippling me, an awkwardness that I can’t understand, and I hope that it’s down to
being overly emotionally tired. Maybe it’s the months of separation, as surely, I can’t be this shy with a
guy who had his mouth between my legs last night and very clearly made me climax. I still cannot get
that memory out of my head when I glance at that sensual mouth and wonder how the hell he could be
so gifted as well as so completely hot. My mind causing my inner body to heat up a little, surprisingly,
and I cough to clear the sudden urges that hit me low down, feeling inappropriate suddenly.
“Food was always the way into your heart, Mimmo. I’m in no fit state to drive, so we’re walking. How
about Nancie’s? You used to be obsessed with her waffles. I’ll call Nate and you can track down your
two.” He moves back to give me space, less obviously awkward than me, but I can sense his
apprehension around acting normal with me. It’s like we are both pretending that we are okay, and
everything is fine, yet we’re both walking on eggshells and being weirdly abnormal.
Nancie’s is a nearby little bistro we frequented over the years. It started as an ice-cream and sundaes
parlor and moved into breakfasts and brunches in later years. Arry used to take me there on a whim,
anytime I craved their food and he always knew it would cheer me up no matter what. I can’t deny he’s
working his way back in without really trying. Knowing me the way he does gives him an arsenal of
advantages.
“I would kill for a banana and blueberry waffle, smothered in pecan syrup.” my mouth’s already
watering, glad of the distraction, glad that I don’t need to think about him or me right now or where this
is going to go. Just focus on the food, getting fed, maybe some sleep after to let my head catch up on
its own.
“How did I know you would order that? Whatever my girl wants. I need to grab my wallet from the
house real quick and tell my mom we’re going out for food. We better find the rest of them.” He lets me
go and hesitates before taking my hand in his gently, the small pause as he waits for me to pull away,
but I don’t. I let him interlace our fingers and throw him a soft look that I hope portrays the fact that I
don’t actually hate him.
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