Thatwas new. Something we hadn't done before…
"What are you thinking about?" Owen asks, and when he sees the flame that sweeps across my face, he smiles proudly. He leans in, his breath tickling my ear. "You better believe I will be thinking about that today," he says in a low voice.
I turn my head, my lips dusting over his. "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"
He nods, his lips rubbing up and down mine. "And I'll see you at the hospital in a few hours."
What?
Oh.Chemo day. I hadn't forgotten. It had just been misplaced in my brain.
"Right." I sit back. Owen kisses the knuckle on my middle finger, then releases me. I grab my purse and the door handle at the same time. "I'll see you soon."
As I open the door and put one foot out, Owen says, "Last night meant something to me. Is that okay?"
I freeze, turning back and looking into his eyes. Apprehension pools there, but it's not alone. I see hope in there, too. "It meant something to me too, Owen."
It’s scary and exciting, but true. This man is capable of bringing me untold joy and also dropping a bomb on my heart and obliterating it.
We smile at each other across the confine of the car, then I climb out and shut the door, waving at him as I walk to my front door.
The key turns the lock and I open the door quietly. My mom probably isn't still sleeping, but if I'm lucky I can sneak to my room undetected and change, then come out as if I came home late last night and am just now getting up.
As I tiptoe down the hallway, I’m quiet as a church mouse. Just before I reach my bedroom, I smell something out of place in the house. Men's cologne, maybe? Or aftershave? Something manly. I tuck my chin, smelling the fabric at my shoulder. It definitely smells like Owen, which makes me smile. I reach my bedroom door and hurry in, taking great pains to let it softly fall into the doorframe. Moving quickly, I change my clothes, then duck across the hall into the bathroom to wash my face. When I emerge, I look like everyday Autumn, not Autumn who had mind-blowing, reality-altering sex three times in the past twelve hours—with her high school sweetheart—who she is supposed to hate … but no longer does…
Is it time to call my therapist? Or maybe just Livvie? I need a reality check to make sure I’m not going insane.
I find my mom out back, sitting in a chair with a book open on her lap. Birds chirp, hopping from branch to branch of the nearby tree.
"Hey, Mom." I walk toward her. She looks up at me, shielding her eyes from the sun.
"Good morning, hon. You must've come in late."
I sink down into the chair next to hers. "Yep."
So late. Like, five minutes ago.
She closes the book and sets it on the table bedside her. "Don't keep me in suspense. How was your date?"
I think back to Tlaquepaque … El Rincon … walking around, eating ice cream. "It was pretty great. Incredible, actually."
A pleased, knowing smile pulls up the corners of my mom's mouth.
"He has never stopped loving you, Autumn."
I fidget with the frayed hem of the jean shorts I changed into. "I hurt him, Mom."
"You were hurting too, remember?"
"Yeah." It doesn't feel the same though. Pain you cause yourself cuts differently than pain you experience at the hands of someone else.
"I think you're being given a second chance. You can do what you never did before: let one another heal the wound." She folds her hands in her lap.
"When did you get so wise?"
She winks. "You've already asked me that question.”
“I know.” I shrug. “I guess I’ll just wait for the day when I’m wise like you.”
