by Leddy Harper
Her hand reached out and grabbed mine. “Really? This whole time your issue with love, relationships, and sex has all been about your mom cheating on your dad?” Her question wasn’t condescending. She asked it with a level of concern that surprisingly didn’t bother me. “Cade, people cheat all the time.”
I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. I would never be able to get her to understand, and that was because I couldn’t tell her the entire story. I thought I could. I thought I could open up and share everything with her the way she had done with me, but I just couldn’t. Too many scars had been ripped open for one day. The deeper ones I had carried with me for so long would have to wait for another time. I was scarred. Would I ever be able to trust her with the skeletons that were buried deep within? It had been so many years and it seemed that the more time that passed the deeper they were buried. They were hardly within my grasp. I had no control when they resurfaced, reeling their ugly heads.
“I know. That’s why I have the beliefs that I do.”
“But cheating is a choice. If you choose to be faithful then you don’t have to worry about it.”
I’d had this argument many times before to many different people. Girls in high school, girls in college, woman since college… it never changed. Every female found it to be their mission in life to change my opinion, but they never could. My thoughts had been etched in blood and there was no wiping that away. None of them ever knew the whole story. The worst parts I kept secret, knowing people wouldn’t understand. They’d only pity me and I didn’t want Ivy’s pity.
“Ivy, there really is no point in trying to get me to see the other side. It’s how I feel and I can’t change that. I will forever remember the way my parents ended, and they’re gone now so I will never be able to talk to them in order to find out the reasons,” I tried to end the conversation. I had left many holes in the story and I hoped that she was blind to my concealment.
Her eyes met mine and I noticed the color change immediately. The vibrant colors from the orgasm I had given her had dulled and the happy expression on her face that was there only moments ago had vanished. I tried to think of why her mood would have changed so drastically in such a short amount of time, but I couldn’t come up with anything. My tone wasn’t harsh or off-putting. I wasn’t rude or short with her. I tried to think back what I said and nothing had sounded bad. Then she spoke… and I wanted to rewind time and take everything back.
“Then what in the hell am I doing here? You know what I want, Cade. I’ve told you before. I sought you out so that I could have a real relationship with someone; it was never just about sex. You say you have feelings for me… my God, the other night you told me you loved me. Last week at my apartment after the club, you told me you never wanted to let me go and that you wanted to own me. And now, sober, you tell me that you will never have a relationship, you don’t believe in love, and you want something completely different than I do.”
Fuck! My mind was spinning and I couldn’t right it. I found the answer to the question I couldn’t ask—my confession to Ivy wasn’t a hallucination, it was real. I told her I loved her. If that was real, did that mean her response was, too? Did she tell me that I owned her? I needed to make things right before she walked away and I lost the chance.
I sank to the floor and wedged myself between her legs, wrapping my arms around her waist to pull her closer to me. I made sure she was looking at me before I spoke. “Ivy… listen to me.” I swallowed, trying to find the right words to use. My voice sounded gruff and gravely. I didn’t have enough time to plan anything out so I just had to go with what I was feeling. “I don’t know what I want when it comes to you. In general, yes, I don’t agree with relationships—never been in one—but when it comes to you and only you, I don’t know about it anymore. The only thing that I know for absolute certainty is that I want you here and I don’t want you to leave. I can’t be apart from you for a day without going insane. I think about you all the time and I’m only calm when you’re around. No, that’s not right.” I shook my head and then met her eyes again. “I’m not calm around you; I’m anything but calm. You wind me up so tight I feel like a loose cannon. You have my head spinning so fast I feel like I could take flight at any moment. You make my heart stop altogether that I think I’m in cardiac arrest and you give me such a constant erection that I’m paranoid someone has slipped me Viagra.
“I’ve never believed in monogamy, never thought it was achievable, but you make me want to believe in something that I didn’t think existed. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something I’ve never experienced firsthand before. Yes, I told you that I never wanted to let you go and that’s the truth. I don’t. But, at the same time, that also scares me because forever has always felt so unobtainable to me. And yes, despite my weeklong binge drinking, I did tell you that I love you. I remember that. I also remember what you said to me. I don’t know how to explain that because I don’t know what it means. They say you speak the truth when you’re drunk, it heightens your inhibitions, so maybe that’s the truth… I don’t know. I don’t know how to describe how I feel about you because I’ve never felt this way before.
“So don’t say that we want different things because that’s not true. I know what you want; the problem is that I don’t know what I want. I just know I want it with you—whatever it is.” I pressed my forehead to hers and her hands immediately cupped my face. “As for why you’re here? I honestly don’t know. I’ve never done anything to deserve you being here. But I know that I don’t want you anywhere else. And if you choose to leave… I’ll follow you anywhere. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.” My voice broke when the sentence ended and I felt such emotion from the words I had just spoken, I was exhausted. But I had spoken the truth, as much as I could stand of it. Did it count as lying if you didn’t tell the whole truth?
“Wow,” she breathed and I felt it against my lips. “That’s book worthy. And I wish it was in a book so I would know what my character is supposed to say to that. That’s the great thing about books; the characters say all the perfect things at the precise moments. Right now, I am speechless.”
“Just say you’re not going anywhere.”
She pulled my face closer and softly pressed her lips to mine. “I’m not going anywhere, Cade.”
I smiled and kissed her again, never wanting to stop. I finally felt like I could relax, she wasn’t leaving me. I pulled her even closer and deepened the kiss. I was more sure than ever that I was experiencing heaven in that moment. My heaven.
*****
The breakfast Ivy had made me turned cold by the time we made it back to the kitchen. After my confession, we stayed on the couch a little longer, talking about anything and everything. Well, everything except for the rest of my secret. I had realized I didn’t know much about her outside of the clinical information I had in her file and the few things she had told me along the way. I wanted to know more. We kept it light, neither one of us wanting to hear the dark parts of our pasts after the morning we had.
I learned all about her favorite books and authors. She read just about anything from just about anyone, but she had a list of authors that she would follow and mark their release dates on a calendar so that she’d remember to get the books when they first came out. Her list included Carina Adams, Meghan March, Ker Dukey, and Amy Harmon—who apparently wrote a book that changed Ivy’s life. She said there is nothing like reading the first edition of a book before readers that think of themselves as grammar experts start pointing out all of the imperfections. In her opinion, the slight imperfections in a book were like the imperfections in people—it’s what makes them who they are. I loved listening to the way she spoke of these books and their characters as if they were real. At one point in time, I worried about the way she viewed books, but hearing her talk about them now gave me a completely different opinion on the matter.
I told her about college, how I studied psychology and then got my Master’s Degree
in Marriage and Family Therapy. She thought that was ironic considering my views on the subject, but I simply explained that it made perfect sense—I couldn’t be a critic without the knowledge. She had laughed at that. We talked about the years right after college, when I made the decision to work as a sex surrogate and how I had gotten into it in the first place. Most people had either never heard of the profession or looked down on the practice, but that had never deterred me from pursuing it. It also never kept me from having a constant stream of clients. I could tell Ivy was a little hesitant to talk about my line of work, intimidated maybe, and I didn’t know how to handle that. The last thing I wanted to do was rub it in her face that I was more experienced than she was, especially if we were about to embark on… whatever this was. So I made sure to keep it to the basics: why I chose it, did I like it, and was there ever anything else I ever thought about doing.
Then we made lunch—sandwiches—and spent the rest of the day lounging around and recovering. I was recovering from five days of heavy, blackout drinking, and Ivy was recovering from lack of sleep. We lay together on the couch and watched movies, alternating between each of our favorites.
A little after eight, I felt Ivy fall limp in front of me. We were on the couch with her back to my chest and my arm slung over her waist. Sometimes we held hands and other times I mindlessly caressed her outer thigh or forearm while we watched TV. But her hand was limp in mine and her breathing was slow and steady.
I waited a few minutes, watching and listening to her sleep, admiring her peaceful expression. I didn’t want to leave her, but I knew I needed time to think. I needed to sort through my thoughts and feelings and hopefully, by morning, I would have somewhat of a better understanding of it all.
I wanted to pick her up and carry her to bed with me, but I knew that would be too much to handle. I had never slept in the same bed with a woman before and I needed time to process things before I started. Just knowing that at some point, I’d want her in my bed with me was a huge step in itself. But in the meantime, I would have to cover her with a blanket and let her sleep where she was. It was an inner struggle as I pulled the blanket up to her chin, watching her take in deep breaths and shift softly against the cushions. It took me far too long to walk away from her and head back to my own room, to my own bed, alone.
Everything felt so different for some reason. I didn’t feel like myself, my house didn’t feel like my home, and the air around me didn’t feel the same as it entered and exited my lungs. As I started stripping out of my clothes, I began to wonder why that was. Was it because of Ivy’s confession earlier? Was it because of mine? Maybe it was because I had finally admitted to myself the way I feel about her. I didn’t know what it was, but it was something I couldn’t put my finger on and I knew I would not get much sleep that night as I tried to figure it out.
I stepped out of my shorts and tossed them into the hamper. I was just about to pull down my boxers when I remembered that Ivy was in the house. She was opening up, sure, but she was still timid when it came to anything sexual and the last thing I wanted to happen was for her to find me naked in bed and freak out. I didn’t know how I would’ve handled waking up without her there… Actually, I didn’t know how to handle waking up with her there, but that thought felt better than the alternative. So I kept my boxers on and sprawled out on my bed on top of the covers. I assumed I’d get warm in the middle of the night since I wasn’t one to wear anything while sleeping, and figured it’d be easier to get under the covers in case I get a chill instead of waking up sweating and reliving that nightmare all over again. Ivy didn’t need to witness that.
The room was dark except for the little bit of lighting coming from the hall outside of my door and the muted moonlight through the windows. I laid with my hands behind my head, staring at the shadows on the ceiling, and thinking about everything. And by everything, I mean, everything Ivy.
Was I capable of having a relationship? And if I was, was it a good idea to have one with someone as tormented as I was? Could two fractured souls come together and make one? Or would we merely drown in each other’s darkness until it shrouded us and left us for dead? I shuddered at that thought, not wanting to give it any more consideration. There was a reason Ivy came into my life, and that is what I had to focus on. I knew she eventually wanted marriage, and I knew I never did. She wanted a real life and I had no idea what one even looked like. The more I stared at the ceiling, processing my thoughts, the more negative I became on the idea. I didn’t want to feel that way. I wanted to believe we could make it work.
Just as I was starting to drift off, everything became clear. I had said it to myself before, and it was true: I couldn’t deny Ivy anything. If it came down to losing her or giving her everything… I’d give it all to her. I didn’t believe in love… but I believed in Ivy. And that was all that mattered. She was all that mattered.
At some point in the night, I was startled awake. I had always been a light sleeper—ever since I was eight years old. And the soft dips in my mattress had my eyes popping open, frantically trying to focus on the figure in front of me.
Ivy.
I had thought about her so much before falling asleep that I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or not. She seemed like a dream. She was gorgeous and her hair was flowing, but I waited, lying completely still and pacing my breaths until the answer came to me. And it did, in the sexy sound of her tired and whispered voice.
“I’m sorry to wake you.” Her words swirled around me and landed in my ears.
“You’re fine. Is everything okay?” I was worried that something had happened. I wasn’t used to having houseguests so I didn’t know what to expect when I found one of them crouched on my bed a foot away from me in the middle of the night, staring at me with soft eyes.
I heard her take in a shaky breath and it made my heart rate speed up. Something was wrong; I could feel it. She was scared and I desperately needed to know why. The moment her head fell and her hair covered her face, I reached out to touch her, to comfort her. I just wasn’t prepared for what I’d feel beneath my fingertips as they touched her.
“What’s going on, Ivy? I need you to talk to me, please,” I pleaded softly and slowly.
Her body stilled the moment my hand landed on her warm, bare skin. She was naked. Ivy had crawled into my bed in the middle of the night, stark naked. I was turned-on and worried at the same time. Something was going on with her and I needed to figure it out before I let my mind get too dirty.
“I wanted…” She began with shaky words, not once looking at me.
I sat up and moved into her, forcing her head up and her eyes on mine. “Tell me.”
“I wanted to help you like you helped me,” she timidly admitted.
“I don’t know what that means. Help me how?”
“With the bed thing…” She let her words trail off, allowing me to figure it out for myself.
I smiled into the dark room, knowing exactly what she meant. But I wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily. She had gotten that far—coming to me naked—because I had pushed her from the beginning. I’d keep pushing her because it was working for both her and me. “And how were you going to do that, Ivy?”
I could tell by the shadows moving across her body that she was shrugging, but I waited it out until she answered my question. “The same way you helped me this morning on the couch.”
“You want to suck my dick?” I knew it sounded crude and vulgar, but I needed clarification and I needed her to use words instead insinuations. If asking offensive questions would achieve that, then that was what I had to do.
She shook her head.
“Then tell me what you wanted to do. I can’t read your mind, Ivy.”
“I was going to… you know… try to have sex with you.”
“Try?”
“You know what I mean. If you wanted to.” She blew out a breath of frustration.
I knew I needed to redirect this before she tucked her tail
beneath her legs and ran for the hills. I couldn’t believe that she’d come into my bedroom to seduce me. But her lack of self-confidence brought forward concern “If you’re asking me to have sex with you, you should know now that the answer will always be yes. Without a doubt. But only if that’s what you really want to do. I don’t want you coming in here, trying to have sex with me if you’re questioning it. But if you’re asking me to have sex with you in my bed… I have to be honest, I don’t know if I can. I don’t want to hurt you or do anything to fuck this up.”
“That’s how I felt this morning, Cade. I didn’t want you to see me down there, but I gave in and you were right. I just thought if I could do that for you… if I could get you to at least try it, maybe you would feel the same way. Maybe you’d see that you can do it.” She paused for a moment and then spoke up, not allowing me a chance to respond. “Never mind. It was stupid of me,” she said tearfully and then tried to move away.
I reached out and grabbed a hold of her upper arm, keeping her from moving. “No. It wasn’t stupid of you. And you’re right. I asked you to trust me… I should do the same for you. I need to show you that I can trust you, too. But I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You didn’t last time.”
I may not have hurt her physically, but I did hurt her emotionally, and I didn’t want to hurt her at all. “What happens if I can’t do it? It was different last time; I didn’t realize where I was. This time, I would be going into it knowing where I am.” I held her face in my hand, bringing her forehead to mine. “I really don’t want to hurt you, Ivy.”