Chapter 22
Loreena
I’ve started to realize that you can’t measure your life in moments, hours, or days. A single moment can change your life forever, but a collection of those very same moments can also help you heal. I believe that you can build something real with someone, and that it doesn’t have to take years of being right there by their side for it to be the truest thing that you’ve ever known.
The feelings I have for Maverick have only grown deeper over the past few days. We’ve gone slow. Touched. Explored. Learned each other’s bodies without pushing ourselves over the edge. It feels natural. Right. Beautiful. Having him curled around my naked body, his skin clinging to mine, his breath in my ear, is the best feeling in the world.
It’s actually shocking. I never thought that baring my body and my soul to someone else would be so… easy. It always seemed like the hardest thing in the world, and I suppose that it is. Maybe the theory of aright personis actually correct.
I have a cup of coffee balanced on my knee. I’m sitting on the couch, watching cars meander up and down the street occasionally, from the big bay window. I smile to myself as I send a text to Sylvie. She’s still so busy with clients that she hasn’t made it out here yet, and that’s okay. She’s answered all my texts, often right away. I wanted to check in with her this morning, since Maverick and Scythe both went to the clubhouse together. I spent a few hours working, but when the cats found beams of sun stealing in through the basement windows anddecided a nap was in order, I wanted another cup of coffee and a break.
My phone lights up as Sylvie’s name flashes across the screen. I pick up right away.
“Hey there,” she says by way of greeting, her voice bright and familiar. “I miss you like crazy, girl. Seriously, I’m going to get my butt out there, A-freaking-SAP.”
I shift the coffee on my knee and smile. “I know it’s only an hour, but an hour isn’t nothing. And traffic in the city before you even hit the freeway is always a nightmare. I know it can be scary driving out of the city, especially if you don’t do it much.”
She groans. “I book myself way the hell up, way too far in advance. It’s hard to even give myself a day. But I promise—next week, for sure. Your nails are probably so grown out. I’m so sorry about that.”
“No, they’re fine. I’m fine.” I laugh softly. “This might be the first time I’ve ever used that word and actually meant it, although it’s still a garbage descriptor.”
There’s a small pause on her end—I can hear the faint rustle of her moving around, maybe getting ready for her next client. I stare at the steam from my coffee and gather my thoughts.
Finally, I say quietly, “I don’t really even know how to describe how I feel. Fine or great don’t even do it justice. Everything has changed—my perspective, my body, my heart, my soul. Everything’s sharper and more focused. I’ve always wanted to help people and put kindness into the world, but I’m learning to be kind to myself too. All those things I thought were so important… I don’t know that they really are anymore.”
I take a breath. My thoughts are having trouble finding a way to express themselves. Maybe I’m a little bit afraid that Sylvie might think I’m crazy if I tell her that I’m healing. I’m learning that letting go doesn’t mean that you can’t be angry about something happening in the first place. Forgiveness is for yourself too. It helps in letting go of that massive burden that is so horribly heavy to carry around.
“I’m taking steps outside every day. I’ve been in a car. I went to a rage room and broke plates. I even went to Scythe’s clubhouse. I feel overwhelmed sometimes, but it’s not the worst kind,” I say. Then quietly I add, “I can really see a future with Maverick.”
On the other end of the line, Sylvie lets out a cheer. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve to feel happiness and warmth and love. You really deserve it.”
“I feel like if I told anyone else, they’d freak out,” I admit. “They’d say it’s too soon to want a future with someone I only just met. The years I spent writing would just be discounted.” I don’t tell her that if I loved Maverick before, I think I’m falling all over again. He’s someone who I can count on to be at my side. Our steps might be new, hesitant, and not entirely right all the time, but that’s okay, because we can step together. We can hold each other up.
There’s no hesitation from her. “You mean your parents would say those things.”
“Yes.” My voice is small, but honest. I’ve been thinking a lot about my family, especially over the past few days. It’s as though my brain has shifted so much, I finally have the bandwidth to do something other than let fear crowd everything else out. I don’t want to hold onto that anger. I don’t want to bebitter and resentful. What happened already tore a massive hole into the fabric of our family. I want to be able to set stitches, not rip the tenuous bonds holding us together apart completely.
I hear her sigh. “There’s always room to be surprised, I guess. If you tell your parents or your sister what’s been happening in your life and they don’t react the way you want, that’s athemproblem. They probably won’t understand the bond you have with Maverick—at least not right away. They’ll be worried because they love you. People fear what they don’t understand, and until they see you two together, they might need time to let go of their old, preconceived bullshit.”
She pauses, then her voice softens. “I love that you’re doing so much better. You should be so freaking proud. And remember, some steps back are normal. Don’t get discouraged. You’re always going to be one of my favorite people ever. You can tell me anything—hurts, disappointment, anger, sadness, swears, fuckery—you name it, I’m down.”
My eyes sting. “You havenoidea how much that means. Thank you times a million for being amazing.”
She laughs. “Shit, I’m blushing over here.”
I hear a door open on her end, a faint chime. “I’m heading into another appointment, so I’d better go, but thanks for the update. And I can’twaitto come out and see you. Call me anytime, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! Love you lots.”
“Love you too. You’re a goddess in every way—not just the goddess of nails.”
She laughs at that. “Maybe I need to change my business name? Sylvie Goddess of Nails.”
“That would be a great name. Have a great day, Sylvie. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“You better.” And then she hangs up.
I set my phone down and sip my coffee. It’s cold now, but it’s still good this way, so I don’t get up to reheat it. I watch the street, hoping for one of the squirrels or some birds to come by, but I get something much better.
***
