“That’s good actually,” I say. “If you were calm about this, I’d be worried. Calm means casual. This isn’t casual to me. This is the day I kissed you for the first time.”
He’s quiet for a moment. “I don’t know how to do this, Benji,” he says. “The distance. You in Miami. Me here. Then me in Panama City and you still in Miami. That’s a lot of hours in a car.”
“It’s only five to Miami,” I say. “That’s nothing. I can leave in the middle of the night and be here by breakfast. I’ll drive through the night if that’s what it takes. Mickey, I just kissed you for the first time and I can still feel your mouth on mine. Do you think five hours of highway is going to stop me?”
“I’m being realistic, Benji.”
“I know you’re being realistic. That’s your job. We balance each other out.” I lean closer. “Here’s what I know. I’m going to get in my car tomorrow morning and drive south. I’m going to walk into my apartment in Miami and it’ll feel wrong because you’re not in it. I’ll lie in my bed tomorrow night and reach for my phone and call you because hearing your voice is the closest I can get to being in this room. That’s what I know. The rest of it — the distance, the schedule — we’ll figure it out. I don’t need a plan for everything. I just need to know I’m apart of your life. That’s all. I can figure everything else out. As long as I know you’re here in this with me.”
“I’ll be here,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere. I mean that literally too. I live in a rehab facility.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “And when you’re not in a rehab facility,” I say. “When you’re home. In the loft above the bar. I’ll come there too.”
“You’ll come back to Panama City Beach to visit?”
“I’ll come anywhere you are. That’s what I’m telling you. What matters is this.” I press his hand flat over my heart. “This is yours now. The distance doesn’t change it. You’re stuck with me. I’m a hard person to try to get rid of. Ask Dante. He’s been trying for years.”
“I would never try to get rid of you,” he says. “How soon can you come back?”
“Soon. I’ve got weddings stacked through the month, but I’ll find a window. I’ll make one if I need to.”
“Don’t cancel your work for me, Benji.”
“I’m not canceling. I’m rearranging. There’s a difference. I’m very good at rearranging. It’s literally my job. I want you to call me every night. I don’t care if it’s midnight. I don’t care if you’re exhausted from therapy. Pick up the phone and let me hear your voice. Even if only for two minutes. Don’t disappear on me, Mickey. I couldn’t take it.”
He squeezes my hand. “I’m not going to disappear.”
“I can’t stand the thought of leaving you.” I’m fighting back tears. “I’m trying not to be emotional about it. It’s hard though.”
“Don’t cry, Benji. We don’t have a choice. I need to stay here and work hard to get better. And you need to get back to your work in Miami. We’ll be okay.”
“But you’re here all alone and I’ll be way off down there.”
“It won’t be forever,” Mickey says. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
“I liked pretending I was taking care of you. I know that in reality I didn’t do much, but I tried.” I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand.
“You were the best,” he says. “I can’t tell you what your visits meant to me.”
The dreaded knock at the door comes and a nurse pokes her head in. “Visiting hours are over,” she says. “Time to wrap up.”
I stand with my bag on my shoulder and look at him one more time. His mouth is still a little swollen and the sight of it makes my stomach flip. Leaning down, I slide my hand around the back of his neck and lay another long kiss on him.
“Goodnight, Officer Weaver.”
“Goodnight, Benji. Drive safe tomorrow.”
“Always.”
I barely make it to the car before my phone buzzes.
Mickey:I’ll be thinking about you tonight. And every night. Drive safe tomorrow.
I read it three times. I press my fingers to the stubble burn on my neck.
Benji:I can still feel your stubble on my neck. I looked in the rearview mirror and there’s a red mark below my ear. You marked me, Officer Weaver.
Mickey:Good.
