Arlo could feel his skin turning red, already shaking his head before he even finished speaking. “It’s-It’s not a big deal. My therapist says that I can’t avoid things just because they’re hard.”
Arlo sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as a scowl formed on Dimitri’s beautiful face, square jaw tightening. “You had a panic attack. You haven’t had one of those in years. You got so scared that you hurt yourself.”
God, he was still so pathetic after all this time. He tried to force a smile but it didn’t work. It didn’t matter, Dimitri was a master at reading him. Maybe it was because they’d known each other since they were five. Maybe it was getting away with murder together. Maybe it was living together and working together and going to school together. Or maybe it was because they were soulmates.
Arlo forced a laugh that sounded borderline manic even to his own ears. “I just stepped on a small piece of glass. It didn’t even require stitches. I’ve hurt myself worse at the coffee shop.”
“Yeah, and they made you take a couple days off to regroup then too,” Dimitri said quietly.
“I-I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Arlo said, voice shaking as he held the plate in his hand just a little tighter.
“Baby…”
“I said I’m fine,” Arlo promised, squaring his shoulders and putting a smile on his face.
And he was fine. He was. He really was. He loved his life…there life. He had everything he’d ever wanted. Even though they’d moved to a much nicer apartment than the one they’d lived in as undergrads, it was still small, intimate, no hidden corners for someone to lie in wait.
Arlo could stand at the front door and see the kitchen, the living room and the balcony. Two steps inside and he could see the bathroom and bedroom. The doors always stayed open whenever they weren’t home so Arlo could see what he was walking into.
Their new apartment had excellent security. There was a doorman and two men who sat at the front desk 24/7. There were cameras everywhere. Even their doorbell was a camera. The guards knew him by name, especially now that Lake was one of them. Java was supposed to be a k-9 pup, but she’d failed out of school as a puppy because she didn’t want to bite anyone.
She was now a registered therapy dog and went with Arlo almost everywhere. Despite her flunking out on her police training, Dimitri had trained her himself and she would guard Arlo with her life if need be. He had no reason to be having panic attacks over dropped glasses. His life was great.
It was just that sometimes his brain didn’t get the message. Thanks to a childhood filled with beatings and then a string of abusive exes, his fight, flight, freeze or fawn was always in overdrive. In the beginning, right after he and Dimitri had gotten together, Arlo had asked his permission to do even the most basic things. Even going to the bathroom or saying no to sex.
He’d tried to make sure that he folded his shirts just right or made his coffee the way he wanted it. Dimitri had spent six months drinking his coffee with sugar just because hedidn’t want to spook Arlo by telling him he didn’t take his coffee that way.
He’d thought he was doing better. They hadn’t had any issues at all, not for months. Doing the dishes was a simple task. He’d been doing it for years now, without any issue. Until yesterday.
When the glass shattered, Dimitri came running immediately. Logically, Arlo knew he was just making sure he wasn’t hurt, but his brain just…glitched. He’d stumbled backwards trying to get away from him thinking he was in danger.
Even now he cringed thinking about it. Dimitri would never hit him. He’d never even raised his voice at him. He couldn’t think of a single time they’d even had a real argument. But he wasn’t thinking of any of that at the moment. He didn’t even feel the glass that sank into his foot, hadn’t even known it was there until Dimitri freaked out when he saw the blood.
Now Dimitri was convinced Arlo was too fragile for menial labor.
He cut off the sigh building in his chest, glancing out into their living room. Their tree sat in the corner—their first real Christmas tree—cut down by them and dragged home, decorated with the finest ornaments Target had to offer. Arlo had picked pale blue and white and silver to match their furniture.
There were white lights and garland twinkling on the balcony and giant ornaments hanging from the ceiling just above that. He’d lit candles all throughout the apartmentthat smelled like vanilla and…snow. He’d wanted everything to be perfect tonight.
“I’m fine. It’s all fine. You’re on your way home though, right?” He blushed. “Its our night to do the thing.”
Dimitri gave him a dirty smirk. “‘The thing’? I love it when you refer to sex as ‘the thing’.”
Arlo rolled his eyes. “Not that thing. The movie thing. The Christmas thing. It’s our tradition, right?”
Dimitri’s face dropped, but then he recovered, the corners of his mouth tugging back up. “Oh…thatthing. I thought you said you wouldn’t ask me to do that anymore.”
Arlo wanted it on the record that he wasn’t proud of what he did next. He gave Dimitri a hurt look, pooching out his lip, taking a cue from Beans and trying to make his wide brown eyes look pitiful. “I didn’t know I had to ask?”
His performance wasn’t worthy of a voiceover asking for donations, but it had the desired effect. He could see his fiancé breaking down.
Dimitri groaned. “Baby…please. I’m fine watching the usual Christmas movies. But the other ones there just…so cringe. How many different ways can some big city rich girl with her life together go home for the holidays and marry some loser with a tree farm and six dollars to his name? How many tree farms are there in the US anyway? It. seems statistically impossible that all of those guys are single. Besides, giving up everything and marrying a dude you met two days ago isn’t romance…it’s desperate.”
“I agreed to marry you after two days of knowing you.”
“Okay, yeah, but we were five…so…” Dimitri countered.
“This one’s different,” Arlo promised.
