“Where did you think this was going, Fiona? Why are you so shocked right now?” he asked, an edge to his tone.
“This is the first time you’ve even mentioned it, and you’re acting like I’m somehow delaying the process when I didn’t even know that was something you already wanted!” I replied, my voice raising. I felt slightly hysterical.
Multiple thoughts ran through my head. I knew that it was a good thing. He was asking me to move in. That meant he saw a future for our relationship—longevity. Even as my rational brain knew that, my instinctual fight or flight kicked in. Something that good couldn’t be real. There had to be a catch, something I was missing. It was a trick, but I couldn’t see how, except for the fact that it all felt too soon.
“Okay, so I haven’t said it outloud, but are you telling me you haven’t noticed how much of the house you’ve been a part of? Including you on all the decisions? I’m trying my best to make you feel comfortable there, to want to be there, but if you don’t, then tell me now.” I stumbled backward, my hand going to my chest, feeling as if my heart was actually getting ripped out.
“I have noticed. The house is lovely. I just… I didn’t know. You never said.” I couldn’t get the words out.
“I didn’t say anything because I was trying to show you! When will it be enough? When will you trust me, Fiona? I’m trying to let you in. I’m literally holding my arms wide open and begging you to move forward with me, and you’re saying the idea of living together never crossed your mind?
“What would the next steps be, in your world? Spend the next five years living out of one drawer in each other’s houses? How long is it going to take for you to trust me? To let me in? Why do I have to pay for the sins of your parents?” he yelled. I felt my throat close up, sobs threatening to break through.
“I don’t think you’re being fair here, Bash. This is all new to me. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I’m not a damn mind reader! I may not have experience with relationships, but I do believe in order to have a successful one, there needs to be communication.
“If you want me on board with something, you have to discuss it with me first, not just expect me to blindly accept your decree! I’m already trying to follow your lead here. You’re the one with far more notches on your belt than I have, but I don’t have a road map for a relationship, and especially not for one with someone like you!” I was getting frustrated, angry that he was upset with me for things we had never even discussed.
“Someone like me?” he said, his voice cold and distant.
“Yes! Someone like you, who’s used to barking orders and the only acceptable response being, ‘How high?’Me, Bash. You, Fiona. Do as I say,” I mocked in a deep voice.
As the words were spewing out of my mouth, I felt slightly separated. As much as I was fighting back, ready with a comeback for everything he said, it was to distract myself from the small girl deep inside of me, the embodiment of that last bit of hope I kept buried, hidden from the harsh reality of daylight.
While I was busy coming up with an argument against taking such a big step with Bash, she was twirling around inside the back of my mind, filled with glee.
He asked me to move in. He wants to live with me. We’re going to start a life together. Maybe he will love me.
Love. That was the part that ripped me from those whimsical thoughts, stopping me in my tracks. All my experience with love had ended in pain. I knew it wasn’t right to lump Bash into that group, but it didn’t invalidate my past, and the expectations it had set within me. Was it so wrong to want to be sure, to remain cautious?
“This again? I’m starting to get tired of that comparison. I’m not trying to boss you around. I’m not trying to act as your VP. I am asking you, where do you see us going? Tell me one good reason why we shouldn’t live together?” he replied. I sighed, hating seeing the pain I was causing him.
I hesitated. To the outside eye, it must’ve looked like I was stumped by the questions, when in reality I had far too many responses, ready to come flying out.
I’m afraid you’ll get tired of me.
I’m afraid you’ll see the real me.
I’m afraid you’ll decide you don’t want me, and I know I will never recover.
Words caught in my throat, too stymied by all the insecurities screaming to get out. Bash mistook my silence as something else.
“Nothing? You haven’t spent any time thinking about us, our future?” he said.
“Bash…” I managed to get his name out. My tongue felt heavy. I felt like my body was moving in slow motion. My heart was racing like it was trying to leave my chest and attach itself to him.Traitor.
“Don’t you think it’s just a bit fast?” I managed to squeak out, knowing it was a pitiful diversion.
“No, I don’t. You waited twenty-five years to have sex. Do I have to wait another twenty-five to get you to move in with me? Will it be fifty before we can get engaged? How long, Fiona? How long do you deem it acceptable before we can move forward with this relationship?”
“You don’t have to be crass,” I retorted, hating how the conversation had turned into something so wretched.
“You trust me with your body but not your heart,” he stated, daring me to argue back. When I remained silent, he continued with a sigh. “Listen to me, Fiona. I don’t care what anyone thinks. What’s considered an appropriate amount of time. This isn’t about that. It’s about how you feel.” He paused, a heartbreaking look on his face as he stood up from the bed. Stepping close to me, he cupped my chin, making sure I was looking into his eyes.
“I know how I feel. I thought we were on the same page, but clearly, we’re not.”
“Bash, no…” I choked out, but he silenced me with a stiff kiss.
“You want more time. I’ll give it to you.” He slipped past me and headed for the door. I wanted to stop him, but couldn’t think of what to say. I was paralyzed in that moment, feeling like my whole world was shifting, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
