I head back to my office while sending him a text.
Hey. Can we talk tonight?
He doesn’t respond, and then Samuel, our custodial engineer, shows up to my office. I have to switch gears, turn on Work Lina, so I put my phone down and tuck my worry away for later.
Turns out later means hours later, because there is a flooding issue in the basement, and Samuel has to walk me through all of the tiny repairs that need to be done, all the piping that needs to be replaced, how I need to either wait for the city to do it for free (read: in five to ten years) or use our own budget to have it done more immediately.
I’m having a bit of a panic attack looking at our budgeting lines when our school safety agent, Ethel Anderson, wobbles into my office. “I’m about to lock up, Principal Sanchez. You stayin’ for much longer?” She’s so old and frail that any sudden movement could cause her to blow away, and I immediately feel bad that I didn’t let her leave earlier.
I look at my watch, heart dropping when I see that it’s almost 8:30. “Wow, Ethel, I’m so sorry. I haven’t looked at the time. Yes, I’m going to head out soon. I’ll lock up, don’t worry about it. Can I get you a cab home?”
She shakes her head so vigorously I’m afraid she’ll give herself a stroke. “Gotta get my steps in. I’ll take the bus.”
“Okay,” I say gently. “Thanks for keeping us safe.”
She leaves with a half-hearted wave.
I check my phone, dismayed when I see that Dom hasn’t texted me back. I do some calculations. Frankie goes down around nine, so I should be able to talk to Dom alone if I leave soon. I text him again.
gonna stop by in a bit. Hope that’s okay.
He texts back immediately.
Hey. Sorry, yes, okay.
I perseverate on the presence of all the punctuation and capitalization, seemingly punctuating how pissed he probably is at me.
I, however, will not let this deter me. I gotta go get my man.
I come up with a talking point game plan. It’s going to begin with an apology and end with an epic fucking declaration of love. Because that’s what it comes down to, what I’ve let myself accept and embrace. This isn’t Mike, where love was a one-way street, from me to him, eventually draining my life force until there was nothing left to give, nothing left for myself. With Dom, it’s two ways, and I’m continuously recharged—every time he cooks for me or loads the dishwasher afterwards or organizes a parent event or even when he catches my eye across a room and gives me that slow, soft smile. Because heseesme, all of me, and that’s what I need.
Satisfied with my prep work, I shut down my computer, gather my things, turn off my lights. Lock up my school. Go and get my man.
* * *
The door swings open.
“Hey,” Dom says, in that voice like water, strong and steady and calm. I drink him in, the black t-shirt and athletic shorts and bare feet. His face is slack.
“Can we talk?” I ask him.
“Yeah.” He steps back to let me in, instead of wrapping me in his tattooed tentacle arms, but that’s okay, because I understand he’s probably still annoyed at me. I’m annoyed at myself now, looking at him and wondering how I could ever walk out on this beautiful, lovely man. I keep my hands and my face to myself as I walk by, instead of mashing them into his broad chest and taking a big whiff of it.
I walk over to the couch and sit, watching his every move, watch the planes of his face as his eyes dart around at the various seating options. He finally sits in an arm chair a few feet away. He stares intently at the coffee table. This is fine. Stick to the game plan.
I take a deep breath. “I want to start by saying I’m sorry for walking out the way I did.”
A muscle tics in his temple.
I plow forward. “That was the best date I’ve ever been on. You planned it perfectly. You did everything to make sure it was special for me, because you knew that I needed to be taken care of, you knew I needed a break, and because you know so deeply what I like. And I just left.”
He gives me a microscopic wince, but gives me space to continue.
“I want to explain why.”
“Okay,” he says quietly, still stiff and avoiding eye contact.
“What you said really freaked me out. About me losing myself, giving so much of myself to you and to Frankie, and doing the one thing I’d been trying to avoid all summer, especially after breaking up with Mike. I’m overwhelmed. So overwhelmed. I realized I was making you guys happy but forgetting about myself.Again. You were right. I mean, you know,” I say, desperate for him to understand.
