“I knew enough to see what was important to you.”
“How is it fair, you always giving to me?” she wondered aloud.
“You’ve given to me too, more than you know.”
Orchid waited, feeling the disbelief plain on her face.
“You woke me. I didn’t know it when we met but I was sleepwalking through every day, working, going to the gym, attending social events. Instead of staying present in the moment.”
She saw the honesty in his admission. “Ditto.” Buoyed by the certainty of seeing Phoenix again, in six weeks, she suddenly wanted to tell him the truth.
“You know, tonight was the best day ever. You thought of everything.”
“I’m glad.”
“But tonight? It reminded me of my dad.”
His full lips compressed. He leaned towards her. Like a lioness with her mate, Orchid nestled into his warmth. His muscular embrace could unlock secrets to Bronze age cave paintings. She could live in this one spot until the end of days, magical fairies spiriting berries and sparkling water to them for sustenance.
“The waiter looked like him.”
“Are you okay?”
The thought of his dad and their shared grief gave her encouragement to continue.
“You called it my kryptonite, that night at the Effies.” She checked his expression for courage. He was calm, and kind. “I don’t really talk about it. But my parents’ car crash?”
He nodded, and offered his hand. For the second time that night, she slipped her palm into his left hand. The comfort of his scent, and warmth, lifted her courage enough to share what had weighed forever heavy in her memories, paining her by pounding at the cage bars that had reinstated themselves around her heart. She looked down. His thigh skimmed hers.
“I saw it. That cold night. In my pajamas.” He already knew this, yet she couldn’t help talking about what she never told anyone, buoyed by the safety of this man who accepted even the damaged parts of herself.
“Right, when you were twelve,” he encouraged her.
“Yeah. I don’t even know anymore what I saw, or what I’ve imagined since then. But these images come to me, when I see someone who’s been hurt. Like waking nightmares.”
“PTSD.”
“Ironic to have me work on that campaign.”
His lids lowered for a beat. “Sorry if that was hard for you. I didn’t know when I’d first offered it.”
“I think it was good for me. I feel like I’ve come a long way.”
He breathed a sigh. “That’s good.”
He deserved to know. She would feel better for sharing the burden of her memories. Beyond the icy driveway, she was haunted by other images. “At the funeral, they had a half-open casket for my dad. I wanted to see him, all of him. Like mom. But when I asked, the adults turned away. My uncle just hugged me. No one would tell me but the way they reacted when I asked, I think the crash crushed his legs. I don’t think he even had legs anymore. And it’s not like he could use them if he did. He was dead after all. But in my nightmares, there’s just blood, and an empty space where his legs were. And sometimes stuff triggers me. I’m going to shut up now, before I make things worse for me.”
“Oh god, I’m so sorry. That’s terrible for anyone to go through. And as a kid, it’s like, you wouldn’t even know how to process it.”
“That’s why I was a mess at the triathlon. And seeing the injured veterans.”
“Now you’re doing better?”
“Yeah. You know meeting Tammy helped. And you.”
“Me?”
“You saw me. You didn’t make me feel less than,” Orchid explained.
