by Nicky James
“I had a long shitty day already,” I told him. “It’s possible I’ll be applying for student loans and living on the street by Monday, but I’m not leaving you.”
His arms squeezed tighter, and he buried his face in my hair. “Good. I need you here. I… I called Dr. Kelby this morning. She’s going to come over and meet with me a week from Wednesday. I made the appointment for nine-thirty at night, so maybe you could be here with me. I… I gotta do something. I can’t live like this. You deserve so much better.”
I lifted off his shoulder and searched his face. Removing his shades, I stared into his eyes. Eyes I knew were a beautiful shade of green when the light hit them just right. “You deserve so much better, Rory.”
“I’m scared of what it means to get better, but I think I’m more scared of living in this prison.” He kissed me before continuing. “I don’t want to live with these limitations anymore. I want to grocery shop for myself. I want to visit my parents. I miss them so much. I want to take you on a proper date. And next time you receive some high-achievement award, I want to be there with you.”
The depth of vulnerability behind his eyes was something he’d never allowed to show before. When I saw it and felt it, I knew the demons in his mind were losing ground. There was a distinctive shift in his spirit, and the darkness he usually carried within had lightened a few more shades. Someday, with more positive steps forward, I hoped there would be nothing left of it. I wanted to be there when the bright essence of his soul cast away the dark for good.
I touched his face and marveled at the strength and assuredness he possessed. Trailing my fingers down his jaw, I touched his lips. Our relationship had bloomed unexpectedly, but I didn’t regret a thing, even if we’d broken a few rules to get that far. I needed him as much as he needed me. Every step forward gave me hope for a better tomorrow. For both of us. “I love you, Rory. I’ll be beside you through all of it if you want me there. I believe in you. In us.”
My words froze him. His breath caught and held. I didn’t expect him to return the sentiment, even though I knew he felt the same, so I kissed him, removing any obligation he might feel. Even when he wasn’t ready with words, Rory had shown me his heart the night before when we’d made love.
As he took my hand and guided me to the bedroom, I decided, if that was the only way he was able to express himself, I was fine with that.
* * *
The phone call came Monday afternoon when Rory and I were still in bed. I hadn’t been back to my apartment in over a week, and Rory had all but insisted I stay indefinitely.
The caller ID only told me it was home, which meant whoever was calling was using the landline. I held my breath and connected the call.
“Hello.” My voice was thick with sleep as I fell back on the pillow beside Rory, draping an arm over my face.
“You sound like I’ve woken you up.”
My father. His voice was tight but not unfriendly.
“You did. I work midnights, remember?”
“Government Counseling Office. I remember. How is that going to work when you’re in school?”
My brain hadn’t fully awakened, but his statement brought more alertness to the surface. Referencing my job and school sounded an awful lot like he was saying I was staying.
“I’ll be switched to a few afternoons a week. Just short shifts, so it won’t interfere with my studies.”
“Hmm.” After an extended silence he drew a sharp inhale through his nose. “Adrian, your mother and I have discussed many things this past week. In light of what you shared with Roger, I’ve decided your living arrangements are inadequate. I’ve withdrawn my payment for next semester’s rent and found you a fitting apartment off campus. It’s a little farther than I’d have liked, but your mother assures me that public transportation in the city is an acceptable option for a twenty-four-year-old.”
I shot up in bed, stirring Rory awake and rubbed at my eyes, ensuring I wasn’t dreaming. “I… I’m staying?”
“That was your request, was it not?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“I understand these roommates have been given a warning with the threat of expulsion should their behavior continue. Even if they are being closely monitored, I’d rather not take the chance of you living there any longer.”
It was true. Calvin and Dylan had been given a slap on the wrist. Although my father had hired a lawyer who was working to fine the pair in court, calling their actions a sexual violation and harassment, there was no telling if he’d win. Laws surrounding harassment weren’t clear-cut, but if my father had his way, those two would get what was coming to them.
Marcus had validated all my claims and requested a transfer into a dorm. It was amazing how fast they’d managed to make that happen for him. I was glad.
“The apartment won’t be ready until October first. I’m concerned about your living arrangements until then, but…” He paused, and a few more audible deep breaths came through the line. “But, perhaps this boyfriend of yours would kindly allow you to stay a few weeks with him since you seem to be close.”
Yup, I was definitely dreaming. Leaning over Rory, I flicked on the bedside light, sending him fleeing beneath the covers as I rattled my head, certain I hadn’t heard him right.
“Pardon me?”
“Adrian, you know how I feel about repeating myself. Whatever impression I may have given you, I am not disgusted or appalled by my son’s sexuality. I am all too aware of how hormones and relationships can get in the way of proper studies. You are living proof. Be mindful of your grades, and I won’t take issue with you indulging in your natural young urges.”
I was rendered speechless. Every effort to summon words escaped me.
“At least you can’t wind up pregnant like your mother did,” he mumbled.
I snorted at the dismissive comment and slapped a hand over my mouth.
“Thank you, Dad. Rory won’t mind letting me stay, I’m sure of it.”
“Next time we’re in town, I hope to properly meet this young man.”
“We’ll try to make that happen.”
I didn’t want to make any promises since there was no telling when they’d be around again or how Rory would take to therapy, but I held hope that eventually my parents and boyfriend would meet.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Rory
“Tell me about a positive memory you have of being outdoors in the sunshine. Something significant enough you can draw up the emotions attached to it.”
Dr. Kelby had been coming twice a week for a month to visit me. Adrian had been by my side at each appointment, not only as support but as an unofficial apprentice, learning his way through every phase of my therapy.
Because of my determination, openness, and the comfort level between Adrian and I, Dr. Kelby had pushed my limits a little harder than she’d originally planned. So long as I didn’t show regression, we’d been taking steps along the path of immersion therapy to eventually wean me back into the sunlight.
If I thought about it too hard, I panicked, so I tried to focus on the tasks she gave me each week and not get too far ahead of myself. As it stood, we spent a great deal of time talking about the sun.
“A positive memory in the sun.” I scratched my chin as my knee bounced. “When I was a kid, my mother used to take me to the beach on hot days. We were poor as dirt but lying in the sand and swimming in the lake didn’t cost a dime. She used to build sandcastles with me. We didn’t have those fancy molds, but she collected empty plastic containers and egg cartons. They worked the same.”
“That’s good.”
Dr. Kelby sat across from me in the chair where Adrian used to sit when he’d come for sessions. Adrian was beside me, his hand on my knee trying to still my bouncing. The dim light on the end table was on. The doctor had insisted I work at keeping at least one light on in my home during all waking hours. Even if Adrian was in school and I was alone. If I was unable for any reason, I was to do
cument it and explain why.
“Talk to me about that day. How hot was it outside? Did you need to swim to stay cool? If you can describe the feelings associated with that day, I’d like to hear them.”
“Umm… it was really hot, that’s why we were there. We didn’t have air conditioning. When we got there, we swam first because we were all sweaty. I remember the way the sun warmed my skin when we got out of the water. We dried really fast without towels.
“My mother was always diligent about covering me with sunscreen because I’m so pale. She’d lather me up and make me wear a hat at all times. I remember watching the teenagers tanning and thought it was cool. I’d lie on my towel and pretend to be tanning too.”
“How did it feel to pretend like that?”
“It made me happy, and I felt grown up.”
I understood the purpose of her exercise. She was trying to encourage my mind to remember the sun as positive and not negative.
Once I’d shared the traumatic incident in my past, and we’d discussed the embedded fears I faced daily as a result, we shifted to positive techniques for handling my daily life. Every meeting, we reserved a few minutes at the start for a discussion on darker topics. Any bad experiences or symptoms of anxiety I’d experienced were addressed at that time, then, we flipped the coin and stuck to positive only.
“Your mother made you very sun-conscious by the sound of it. Ensuring you wore protection at all times.”
“Yes. You know the redhead’s fate otherwise.”
Dr. Kelby’s hair was more strawberry blonde, but she was fair, and I guessed she probably struggled with the same issues most fair-skinned people faced.
She didn’t respond with anything more than a smile, and I knew it was because we weren’t discussing trauma at that point.
“Was there ever a time when your mother’s ministration failed?”
“Did I ever get a sunburn?” I clarified.
“Or sunstroke, perhaps from being outdoors too long?”
“Oh, no. She always ensured we took breaks and were well hydrated. She’s a good mom.”
“Sounds like it.” She shifted and set her notepad aside before folding her hands in her lap. “I want to ask you something, and I want your logical brain to answer, not your panicked mind, okay?”
The hairs on my arms stood on end, and Adrian found my hand, linking our fingers. He was my rock and had been through all of this. I didn’t know what I was going to do when he moved into his apartment in two weeks. I’d grown used to having him around.
“Okay, ask.”
“Logically, with a thick layer of sunscreen, how long do you guess it might take for a fair-skinned man like yourself to burn in early morning sun in mid-September?”
My heart leapt into my throat because it felt like she was readying to push me out the door to find answers.
“It’s hypothetical, Rory. Breathe through the panic and think. I want you to use logic when answering.”
I pushed out a breath and avoided the reactive response which told me I’d burn in seconds. Milliseconds. I was burning already just considering it. Dislodging my fingers from Adrian’s, I rubbed at my arms, feeling the tingle crawling up them.
Logical. Logical.
I shook my head, knowing an early morning sun in mid-September when loaded with sunscreen wouldn’t harm me. “I don’t know, hours. But that’s if time remained still and sunscreen wore off.”
“So, you agree, it’s not a threatening situation?”
“I’m not going outside,” I said pointedly.
She remained silent, waiting for an answer.
“I agree,” I mumbled, scratching my skin, trying to ignore the heat erupting over its surface.
* * *
Every following session, Dr. Kelby asked me a similar question, painting a similar scenario and asking me to answer with the logical part of my brain. Initially, I didn’t understand what she was doing until the fourth or fifth time she presented me with a question, and I realized, I no longer had a physical reaction. My arms didn’t burn, and my heart remained calm.
“Baby steps,” she’d said when I pointed it out. Her smile gave me confidence and made me want to prove myself even more.
By the beginning of October, Adrian was settled in his apartment and submerged fully in his schooling. He gave up his job at the counseling center when Dr. Kelby asked him if he’d be interested in being her official apprentice and help with her phobia study. It wasn’t as though she needed help, but his dedication and interest was so high, and his questions were endless, that I think she was doing us both a favor. It was a great stepping stone for him, and it didn’t interfere with his studies too much. He was responsible for all the grunt work, filing and keeping her notes in order, but he was invited to join in on sessions when her patients allowed him presence. He was over the moon. It gave him more confidence than I’d ever seen him have.
That night, I’d promised Adrian I’d stay at his new apartment for the first time. As many times as we’d gone over my needs and fears about being away from home for a night, he’d encouraged me to step outside my comfort zone. Once the sun went down, I locked up my apartment and stood in the hallway for a few minutes taking deep breaths.
To a stranger, my progress might seem minimal or non-existent, but to me, I’d already gone far. There were only random days when having the lights on in my apartment bothered me. They still weren’t bright bulbs, but I’d spent so much time in darkness, it was a huge deal to have them on all the time.
In the hallway of my apartment, the lights overhead didn’t bother me as much anymore either, and since I was proud of the advances I’d taken in the artificial lighting department, I felt half inclined to ride the elevator to the first floor instead of taking the stairs—if only to prove to myself I could stay in control.
Adrian’s words rang through my mind on a loop every time I got overzealous—like now. Don’t push yourself too hard. Only do what feels comfortable. So far, standing stationary in a wash of hallway light, I didn’t have any discomfort, so I took a few steps toward my goal, checking my pocket for my shades just in case.
I got as far as pushing the button before the hairs on my nape stood on end. Then, my heart tripped faster. When the elevator doors opened to the brightly lit chamber, I turned around and fled down the stairwell instead. The harsh brightness and the idea of being confined within was too much.
Adrian’s apartment was only a few blocks away, and the early October breeze cooled my panic-heated skin. Blooming frustration took its place, and the weight of self-defeat made my mood plummet. Even though I was no longer feeling residual effects once I reached Adrian’s complex—and should have taken it as a win—I couldn’t help my spoiled mood.
By the time I made it to Adrian’s door and knocked, I’d forgotten all about the struggles I might have to face in his living space because I’d been too caught up in my failures back home.
He swung the door open with a grin and waved me inside.
“I can’t believe you’re at my apartment. This is so exciting. How are you doing?” He noted my dampened expression and halted. “What’s wrong?”
I scanned his open concept living room and noted the single lantern with a dark shade which was illuminated. The bulb was slightly brighter than the ones I used at home, but it didn’t trigger any ill effects.
“Nothing.” I shrugged my backpack off my shoulder and tossed it on the couch. “I got it in my head I was going to brave the elevator tonight and failed.”
Adrian pulled my head around and forced me to meet his gaze. “What are you calling failure?”
His fingers danced up and down my arms, and he adjusted his glasses as he waited for me to explain.
“I left my apartment, and the hallway’s lights haven’t felt assaulting at all lately, so I thought I’d take the next step and ride the elevator down. I pushed the button, but when the doors opened, I couldn’t do it.”
“That’s not failure, Rory,
that’s progress. You’ve never even toyed with the thought before. The fact you are contemplating and taking progressive steps forward isn’t failure. Just like Dr. Kelby’s hypothetical questions, if you do that much, push the button and wait for the doors to open every day, eventually, it won’t frighten you anymore. Then, you take the next step. You can’t rush your healing.”
He spun and waved a hand to the lamp I’d noticed. “Like tonight. I’m testing your intensity level. This is a forty-watt bulb. If you can be comfortable with it, then I think we should switch out your twenties at home.”
I took in the room again, searching and determining if I was experiencing any ill effects from his brighter apartment. Then I decided, if I had to consciously dig for symptoms, they probably weren’t there.
I nodded and blew out a breath. “Sounds like a plan. So, did you pick a movie or are we heading right to bed?”
I wiggled my brows insinuating my preference. He laughed and tugged me down on the couch.
“We’ll have plenty of time for both.”
Because he was back in school and on a more regular schedule—sleeping at night and up during the day—I’d used that for another stepping stone and worked hard to fix my body back to the same schedule. Being up in the day had caused more anxiety in the beginning, but like everything else, I’d adjusted, and it became less scary in time.
“We need to get to bed early tonight because I have a delivery coming here at the crack of dawn.”
I threaded fingers through his hair with a grin as Adrian lifted his head from my shoulder and peered at me with question in his eyes. “What is it?”
“It’s a surprise. Start the movie so we can get to bed.”
He glared for a few more minutes then fired it up. Sleep was long delayed. Adrian was determined we christen his new apartment—repeatedly—and I wasn’t about to deny him. His words to me the other week tickled my heart and, so far, the only way I’d been able to return them was through actions.