“I, um, I need to go. Sorry. Real quick. Where is the bathroom?” He points to the only open door in the narrow hallway, and I excuse myself, promptly taking my phone from where I put it on the countertop.
I hold the sink with both hands, willing my breath to calm and shaking all these irrational thoughts away. Who cares about stretch marks? I don’t, so why do I think he will? Why is it so hard for me to get out of my head and just let that man make me feel good? Exactly how I want him to.
I look at myself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long time, the reflection is not one of a sad, lonely girl, but a woman who has known both love and loss, in the biggest ways, and who knows how precious this life is. I see life in my eyes, in my cheeks, and I want to grab it without fear. Or maybe with fear, but doing it anyway.
I can do this.
I want to do this. I pick up my phone.
Me:
Yes, please take the girls home. Can you bring them to the shop around 10?"
Allie:
I’ll bring them in after breakfast. Enjoy your night and be safe
Me:
Love you
Allie:
Love you
The quiet knock on the door startles me, but I swing it open, nonetheless. Holden is practically frozen, his fist in the air.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and I nod. “Be honest with me. Please. Did I push too far?”
This poor man. “No. Not at all. I’m sorry I’m giving you mixed signals. I promise I’m okay.”
He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing down. “Do you want me to take you home?” His question sounds sad, as if he would be disappointed if I said yes, but he masks it with a neutral smile.
I shake my head. Relief washes all over his body. He holds my hand, walking me to his couch, and with ease, we sit, side by side, sinking into the plush fabric. I can’t lie to myself and deny I’m disappointed he brought me here and not to his bed.
“I want to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.”
“Okay? You’re scaring me.”
“This is coming out all wrong,” he mutters.
“Holden, just tell me. Whatever it is, ask.”
“Am I doing something that’s making you uncomfortable?”
“What? No!” My eyes open wide. “Why would you even say that?”
He exhales, carrying all his worries with it, and all of them land on my chest, next to my heart. “Your body tells me one thing, but you run away from me every time I touch you. So I wanted to make sure.”
I take both his hands in mine. “This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.”
He eyes me suspiciously.
“I, um, I want to be with you. I want to have sex with you.”
“Good.” He smiles in triumph.
“But my body is, um, there’s so much that clothes hide, and I don’t want you to lose desire when you see me.”
