I took a seat on the far edge, away from a group of three men. “You must know,” I said, making sure they weren’t paying me any attention.
“People will talk,” she said, casting glances around.
“Tell me to leave you alone,” I whispered. “Tell me to never come near you again. Is that what you want?”
She stared deep inside me.
“Is that what you want?” I said again with much more conviction than I felt. Slowly, I got up and watched as her throat tightened. “I’ll do whatever you say. Do you want me to go?”
She shook her head ever so slightly and then, speaking so low I wasn’tsure I was hearing it right, she said, “I close up at one. My car is parked two streets back. Don’t show your face in here again.”
I did as told, heading out into the cool spring night. A few blocks away, I stumbled into another bar and waited for her. When the time came, I found the old Chevy easily; the street was empty. For the next few minutes, I paced back and forth on the sidewalk. If I kept my body moving, my mind might leave me alone.
Then she was there. Immediately, I pulled her to me and kissed her. It felt like we were a couple going home from a night out but with the thrill of the first time. Of the unknown.
“Is this okay?” I whispered, scared to the bones that she was going to say no. She nodded. I kissed her again. It was even better than the first time, maybe because I’d been so unsure it would happen once more. A few minutes later, we got into the back of her car, T-shirts flying over heads, limbs banging into windows, knees digging into the fake leather seats. I had a condom in my wallet and took my time retrieving it, giving her plenty of opportunities to say,Stop. Wait. No. We can’t. This is all wrong.
She grabbed it from me and ripped the packaging open.
Afterward, I held her in my arms and breathed in her soft neck as I lulled her, keeping her as close as I physically could.
“I don’t want to leave you,” I said after a long while.
My left arm was numb from the uncomfortable position, and it was late enough that Cassie might wonder where the hell I was. I had to go home. I couldn’t go home. Not yet.
“But you will,” Reese said.
I didn’t respond. Couldn’t lie to her. Couldn’t tell her the truth, either.
We met again and again and again, often at roadside motels neither of us could afford. When I was with her, I didn’t care about anything else. I held her tight, every part of our naked bodies touching, our skin in permanent contact, sharing our most intimate thoughts into the early morning.In those moments I felt truly at peace, like I never had before.
Of course, we could have gotten caught. We probably almost did, several times, but Cassie wasn’t even that much of a problem. The money arrived,finally, and she was constantly out shopping or drinking with her friends. Sometimes they’d drop her home only a few minutes after I’d left Reese. I probably still smelled of her. How reckless we were.
I was still technically looking for a job in the area, but my focus quickly turned to being with Reese whenever she wasn’t working. I worked on the inn, taking the rusty bike to the closest hardware store to get tools and supplies, which Cassie begrudgingly paid for. I fixed squeaky doors, ripped up the wallpaper, and battled with a leaky faucet until I conquered it. I had plenty of free time and YouTube taught me new skills I didn’t want to learn every day. At first it was the perfect cover: it gave me something to do, something that would please Cassie, with all the flexibility to fit into Reese’s life. Soon, I started thinking further: the new and improved inn could be good for me. It was a new purpose, a potential new career. Something worthwhile to fill my time for the next two years.
I also worked on the next steps of my green card application for the immigration lawyer, filling out documents, answering questions about my parents’ birth places and the addresses of my previous employers. When Erica Min asked about whether we’d set a wedding date, I replied with a vagueWorking on it!
Life was good, considering. I daydreamed of the next moment when I could hold Reese in my arms, and everything else faded into the background.
The words came out about six weeks after that first night. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”
Reese was putting her underwear back on and swung around; her eyes shot wide open, like she’d never heard that before. And then it hit me: she’d never heard that before. She’d mentioned a guy she’d dated for a while, a toxic relationship in which she got attached too soon. Since then she’dstuck to one-night stands, sometimes with guys she picked up at the bar, but never locals. She didn’t like the gossip.
“Reese,” I said, reaching for her waist. “I’m in love with you.”
She flicked my hand off and started to pull on her jeans. “No, you’re not.”
Her voice was cold, her body stiff all of a sudden. I had sensed the darkness within her before, had guessed the deep wounds that kept her at that dirty, smelly bar when she was clearly smart, with so much potential. In that moment it felt like I’d barely scratched the surface—that there was a lot more pain she was grappling with. It made me want to stroke her hair and tell her that everything would be okay. I was there now and I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.
“I’m dead serious,” I said. “I’ve been thinking it for a while, but I was scared to admit it out loud. I love you. Please, look at me.” She did. “I love you.”
She breathed deeply, in and out. In and out.
“Would you ever come to the city with me?” I continued. “There’s nothing keeping you here. Maybe you just need a fresh start. I know you’d love it there.”
“And Cassie?” Reese said.
She didn’t wait for my answer and went back to getting dressed, clasping her bra with swift moves before adjusting the straps on each shoulder.
