“Not at all?” Julian asks, concern clouding his face.
“When I’m upset about something, my appetite goes away. It’s been that way my whole life.” I shrug. “Let’s order something, shall we?”
He brings our joined hands to his lips and kisses my knuckles. Then he smiles and lets go. “Pizza? Thai? What do you think?” He pulls his cell phone from the pocket of his shorts on the floor.
We order in from a Thai restaurant down the street then sit together on floor cushions in my living room, where we eat right from the to-go containers. We talk and laugh, slipping right into that comfortable space he and I find so easily with one another.
“I know you said we aren’t supposed to talk about this, but I want to say something about after I leave.” Julian pulls me closer to him on the couch.
I groan. “We were doing so good. Say your thing so we can get back to the stuff that won’t make me cry.” My stomach starts twisting.
“I’m worried about you being here all alone in this house.”
My twisting stomach starts to tie itself in tight knots. This one is a heavy hitter among the thoughts I have been avoiding, for much longer than just tonight. Gage is gone, Julian will be gone soon, and when the dust settles, I will be alone. I’ve actually never lived alone.
I shift, suddenly uncomfortable. “Yeah? Well, there’s not much I can do about it, so…”
“Well, therearea few things. You could get a security system, or even better, a dog. Yeah, get a big dog, like a German shepherd,” he says, in classic, manly problem-solving mode.
I find myself blinking back tears. For some stupid, irrational reason, him making suggestions like this feels like him accepting the situation, accepting his departure, like he’s fine with it. It hurts. Like a knife to the gut.
I do what any reasonable person would do. I lash out. “I can take care of myself, you know. I’m a big girl,” I say testily.
He blinks, surprised. “I know you are. I’m just trying to?—”
“What? Tell me how to live my life after you’re gone?”
His brows knit together in irritation. “I’m just making suggestions. Maybe I want to make sure you’re safe. You’re getting what you want. Maybe I should get something I want too.”
Oh no, he did not.
My eyes widen with righteous indignation. “What I want? I’m getting what I want? Exactly which fucking part of this ismegetting whatIwant?”
He sits back, heaving a small sigh.
I choke back a sob. I really should stop talking now, but I can’t. “I don’t get anything I want. I don’t want you to leave, I don’t want to lose you, lose this”—I gesture back and forth—“thingbetween us. But I’m a grown-up and a mom, and I get to suck it up. Suck it up, buttercup.” Hot tears are rolling down my cheeks now, even as I start sounding like a kids’ basketball coach.
Julian reaches for me and draws me into his arms. I try to take deep breaths, closing my eyes against his chest until the sobs and ragged breaths begin to slow.
“I guess I’m not ready to talk about what happens tomorrow,” I mumble into his shirt.
“That’s okay. I’m sorry I brought it up,” he says gently, lightly rubbing my back.
After a few minutes, his hand dips lower, and he brushes his fingers along the skin exposed at the hem of my shirt. I shiver, and he slips his hand underneath and caresses my bare back and shoulders. I climb onto his lap, pull my shirt off over my head, and lean in to kiss him.
We make love in my bed again, slow and sweet this time, like we know what’s coming and want to draw the moments out as much as possible. Afterward, when we lie curled together, I try hard to stay awake, to stay present. To not lose a moment of this precious time. The stress of the past few days and the warmth of his big body snuggled behind me get the better of me, though, and soon I am lost to sleep.
Sometime later, I wake with a start and breathe a sigh of relief when I sense that Julian is still there, still holding me. The light from outside is just starting to dispel the gloom of night. It’s probably around six in the morning.
I stay perfectly still. Like I can freeze time if I just don’t move.
Julian stirs, taking in a breath and starting to pull his arm back. I grip it tightly, holding it, and him, in place. I feel his gentle laugh rumble against my back.
“Are you holding me hostage?”
I nod, pulling him tighter around me. “Mm-hmm.”
“Okay.” He sighs, nestling his face back into my hair and against my neck.
