“Your question?” he asks, confused.
“Um, yeah, you know that one where I asked you if you still love me despite everything that’s happened?” I repeat, not sounding any better as I ask a second time.
“I thought that was rhetorical, sorry,” he snarks, and I give him an incredulous snort.
“Of course I still love you, Lennox. You’re it for me. Good days or bad, sleep or no sleep, cuddle slut or pouting on the other end of the couch. It’s you and me forever.”
“I am totally not a pouter,” I defend, and he chuckles.
He rinses my hair, and the bath water around me turns murky. I pop the drain and silently beg it to take it all away. Rogan puts conditioner in my hair and then starts to comb it through with a wide-tooth comb. I turn to him, shocked by his hair care knowledge, and quirk an eyebrow. Rogan blushes and I instantly feel even more curious about why the pink is tinging his cheeks.
“I might have looked up how to care for curly hair,” he tells me sheepishly, and I find him so damn adorable I almost can’t take it. I look at the shampoo and conditioner, and sure enough, they’re designed for curly locks.
“But when would you have gotten all of this?” I ask, puzzled.
“The cleaner stocked everything at my request, just in case, when we were in Chicago. After the run-in with my mother, I figured better to be prepared.”
My eyes bounce back and forth between his. I’m so touched by this simple yet incredibly thoughtful and sweet thing. Silence stretches between us, and I debate shattering this beautiful moment between us with questions, but I can’t wait any longer. I need to know once and for all, or I’m going to scream.
“Rogan, why are you blocking me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart stutters with nerves, terrified that his reasons will shatter the incredible thing we have building between us.
“What? Why would I block you?” he asks, as though my question is ridiculous.
“I don’t know, because you’re mad at me or hurting or hiding something or you think something’s wrong with me but you don’t want me to feel it. Take your pick,” I tell him, hating that he’s making me spell it out like this.
“I’m not,” he counters adamantly.
“You’re not what? Mad? Hurt? Hiding something from me? Can you answer a question properly? Are you trying to drive me mad so I never get any answers?” I demand, my tone and frustration rising in pitch with each word.
Rogan takes a deep breath and fixes his eyes on mine. “I am not blocking you, Lennox. I’m not any of those other things either,” he defends.
“You’re not?” I clarify, cautiously.
“No. I’m not,” he reassures me, and I don’t know what to feel. I reach for the tether, questioning what I know I felt earlier. Maybe I was wrong or confused after just waking up. I reach the connection that ties me to Rogan and, without a doubt, it’s still blocked.
“Then why can’t I feel you?” I ask, distress sneaking into my tone.
“It happened when you died. The tether just stopped, and I couldn’t feel you either. I figured it would come back, like it did the first time.”
My brow furrows with befuddlement. “What do you mean?”
“In the church when you died, the connection blinked out. I didn’t feel anything until the morning Marx called to tell me the bodies were missing. I had a flash of fear and panic earlier that day, but I didn’t recognize it for what it was, because we hadn’t used the tether that much before you died. I only figured it out after I saw you at your aunt’s house. I could see what you were feeling written all over your face, and then I could match that to the sensations filtering into me through the tether. I thought it would snap back into place again, just like it did last time,” he explains, and I grow even more confounded while not missing the way his face fell when he said Marx’s name.
“Why didn’t you say something before?” I question, worried.
“I don’t know, a lot has happened. I didn’t think about it until now. Is that what’s been bothering you this whole time? You thought I had purposely shut it down somehow?” he asks, realization dawning in his beautiful green eyes.
“Well...yeah…you never said anything about our connection being affected. I didn’t know,” I stammer, unsure if I feel upset or relieved over the fact that he’s not shutting me out on purpose. I want to talk to him about Marx, tell him how sorry I am for what happened, but it doesn’t feel right. He looks too exhausted, too run down, and I don’t want to add any more to his plate of things that need to be dealt with tonight.
“Lennox,” he starts, my name falling reverently off his lips. His voice is practically a purr, and it does all kinds of things for my fuzzy head and warm body. “I know we’re still settling intous, but when I say I love you, that you’re it for me, I mean it. I shut you out before, and it almost cost me everything. I will never risk that again...never,” he reassures me, pressing his forehead to mine, and I can hear the vow in his voice.
I run my wet fingers through his hair and just feel him against me, both of us quiet as we anchor ourselves and recalibrate.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with our tether, but we’ll figure it out. I’ve already contacted my aunt. Let’s see what she has to say before we worry. Okay?” he assures me, a tired yawn sneaking out to punctuate just how worn out he has to feel. “Now, let me finish your hair and then we can go to bed. It’s been a long day,” he tells me gently, stroking my cheek with his thumb.
I nod, cupping his cheek tenderly for a moment before I turn back around. Rogan combs through my hair in silence and then rinses it with the clean water still pouring from the tap. We trade small smiles and hesitant touches, everything that we’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours slowly catching up to us.
Rogan kisses me on the shoulder as I work to dry my hair, and disappears into the bedroom to get ready for bed. I scrunch up my curls, staring at myself in the mirror, and start fretting about the tether. What if it doesn’t come back? What if every time one of us dies, it damages our connection? I used to want it gone more than anything, but now that it seems to be, the loss feels so much bigger than I ever thought it could.
