Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
He insisted I take a cab and stay over at her place.
If I’m honest, I’m relieved he doesn’t want to come. But I also feel guilty about these feelings.
“How do I look?” I ask, capping my lipstick and turning to face him.
“Good,” he says. “You always do. Uh… so?” he keeps going. “Have you thought about it?”
“Thought about what?” I ask even though I know exactly what he’s about to bring up.
My face goes hot.
“Chloe,” he chastises.
The hall pass has been the elephant in the room with us for the three weeks that have passed since he passed me the piece of paper.
A few days ago, I tried to deepen a goodnight kiss and he turned away. It made me angry, and I know I made that known in a passive aggressive way, which isn’t very mature of me, so I forced myself to bury my emotions after a day of sulking.
While communication has been a no-go, he’s trying to do more things on his own. This has me worried that he’s preparing for an eventuality without me in it, trying to not need me because he thinks I won’t be able to get over the intimacy issue.
“I mean it, Chloe. I don’t want to lose you,” he says. “And I feel like I might.”
“You won’t,” I assure.
“If you don’t do this, I feel like I will. I see it in your eyes. I feel it, Chloe.”
I want to scream. I want to scream for him to show me just an ounce of what we used to have. I don’t need his dick to work. I need him to look at me like I’m more than the roommate who cooks and cleans and does his laundry for him. Who drives him to PT appointments and answers the door to the lady who clips his toenails. I need eye contact. I need to not feel invisible around here.
I don’t know what it’s like to be told you’ll never walk again; I can’t possibly put myself in his place. Lord knows I’ve tried. I’ve tried to be patient, to hope for patience with the intimacy stuff.
“Oh, so you think I’m that superficial?”
It sounds like a lighthearted jab, but it’s not. I’m hurting right now. Even as I tell myself I need to get over it, give him more time, try harder, I’m deep-down terrified that time won’t do a thing. That I need to become a-sexual and live like roommates. And I’ve been feeling like that’s the only solution, that it’s what I need to try to do. Because what’s the alternative?
The alternative is to be the type of person who would leave her fiancé after he had a life-altering accident. That’s not who I want to be as a human. And I don’t have to be that way. I feel perfectly capable of seeing the glass as half-full if he gave me a bit more than what he’s giving me. And then of course I feel guilty because it’s not fair for me to put timelines on his emotional recovery.
“It’s not about being superficial,” he denies, “It’s about your needs being met. It’s about me realizing I can’t meet them myself, but I can make it so that you still have a full life. So that you won’t cry yourself to sleep because I can’t…” His voice cracks.
He clears his throat.
My heart swells with love for him. “I don’t need that. I need you. I need intimacy way more than intercourse, Adam.”
I take a step forward, but he lifts his hand to halt me.
I pull a handful of hair out of my hairbrush and whip it into the toilet before flushing it and pushing the lid down so I can sit.
Tell me to come to you. Hold me on your lap and whisper into my ear that we’re going to be fine. That you love me. That you still want me. That we’ll find a way to have the life we want, to find something new since we can’t have what we were supposed to have.
“And I’m not capable of giving it to you at this point, Chloe. It’s all still… new.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry to make you feel like this. I don’t mean–”
He shakes his head sharply, cutting me off. “You’ve stood by me. You’ve been here in every way I’ve needed you. I need to return that favor by giving you my blessing to make sure your needs are met.”
I don’t know how to respond to this. We stare in silence for a long moment. It’s a longer eye lock than we’ve shared in a long, long time. I see his pain. His frustration. It’s etched into him. I’ve seen it all along and felt for him. But maybe Adam is finally taking a closer look at me. Is that what this is? Am I being unfair by resisting here?