Pure Hearts

by Jeannine Allison

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her rub her forehead. “That’s not it at all, Nick. I don’t know why Kent acted that way, but Calla isn’t—”

  “You’re so goddamn blind.” I angrily shook my head. “You’re not doing anyone a favor by turning a blind eye to everything that’s wrong in the world. You want to skip around in a field of daises, convincing everyone to hold hands and play nice? You want to pretend the world is perfect and the people in it are fair? Fine, go ahead. But you’re not doing the world any favors, Iris. You aren’t helping anyone.”

  Somehow it felt quieter than the silence that reined minutes earlier. I gave myself another sixty seconds, trying to calm down, before looking over. Her head was facing the window, and what I saw in the reflection caused my heart to splinter. Her lip was quivering as she bit it, and her eyes shimmered with tears.

  Dammit.

  We were only a couple minutes away from her house. “Iris—”

  “Don’t,” she whispered.

  I stayed silent until we pulled into her driveway, but only because I wanted all my focus to be on her when I apologized. If she could see the regret in my eyes, feel the reverence in my touch, it would hopefully strengthen the thing I was horrible at: apologizing.

  I had just put the car in park when I heard her seat belt clang against the door before she shoved it open.

  “Wait—” My hand flew out to grab her elbow, like I did whenever she tried to leave the car.

  She froze, one leg hanging out and the other planted on the floor bed ready to push off. Turning toward me, she shifted until we weren’t touching. But she stayed. Without an ounce of embarrassment, she sat there as tears started streaming down her face, letting me see the damage I’d caused. She didn’t hide it to save face or make me feel better; she gave me everything.

  And it hurt like hell.

  When I was younger I always got angry when Colleen would hide her feelings from me, when she would turn away and wipe her tears before I could see them. Even though I knew it would hurt—seeing the tears I caused—I wanted it because it meant she trusted me.

  Now, I was wishing Iris would pretend. I was hoping she’d throw out some lame excuse about allergies and run away before I could see her fall apart. Because this didn’t come close to how much I imagined it would hurt. I expected an ache in my chest, not a grenade that completely blew me apart.

  Iris was quickly becoming the greatest joy I’d ever known, but that also meant she became the deepest sorrow when she was hurting, especially when me and my big, stupid fucking mouth were the cause.

  A sorrow that was made worse by her next words.

  “I choose to see the good in people because too many people see the bad. I decide each morning to count my blessings rather than lament my troubles. It’s not always easy, and there are days when I need a break. But this is who I am and I’m not ashamed of it. I’ve seen the power of positivity, whether you believe me or not, whether there’s an explanation for it or not.” She looked down and picked some invisible lint off her clothes.

  “You’re right. I know there are people who probably look at you and your circumstance and think like that, but those people are not my family. And I’m not being blinded by devotion or loyalty. I don’t know what was wrong with Kent and Calla tonight. But I do know them, and they are good, fair people. And isn’t expecting them to be a certain way because they have money the exact same thing as people judging you for not having it?” She shook her head and adjusted her purse, like she was preparing to deliver one last verbal blow before leaving. Iris made sure she looked me in the eye when she spoke again.

  “I know you don’t understand how I can be so optimistic. Not many people do. They think I’m strange or they feel intimidated or whatever—I’ve heard it all. I’ve gotten used to my relatively solitary life. I guess I just thought”—she sniffled before taking a deep breath and finishing—“I thought I’d finally found someone who understood enough to want to be with me the way I am. I’m a good person and I do help people. If you can’t see or appreciate it, that’s your loss.”

  And with that, she stepped out of the car, taking all my happiness with her. She waited by the hood for me to exit. I moved slowly, my mind racing for a way to fix this. But when I got close enough, she snatched the keys out of my hand, locked her car doors, and swiftly moved toward her house.

  She didn’t look back once, and I stood frozen in her driveway.

  I’d never seen Iris cry like that before. Truthfully I hadn’t known it was possible. She always seemed so strong, too happy to be brought down by anything. But I guess that was the problem with strength. Sometimes it became synonymous with indestructible.

  We saw strong people as invincible.

  We imagined them unbreakable.

  But that was a big mistake. Invincibility didn’t exist. It was an illusion that made humans seem like something more. And we became careless.

  I became careless.

  I saw Iris as strong.

  Invincible.

  Unbreakable.

  And without meaning to, I crushed her.

  I immediately slumped against the door, the tears cool on my face. I hated crying. I wasn’t this person.

  Think of something positive.

  Something good has to come out of this.

  But I had nothing. Just a whole lot of hurt.

  I easily forgave his assumptions when we first met. He hadn’t known me, and he certainly didn’t owe me the benefit of the doubt. His distrust came from his past and the people who’d wronged him. That had nothing to do with me, so it was a grievance I was easily able to let go of.

  But now? Now he knew me. I thought he trusted me. The fact that he didn’t broke my heart a little bit, and it made me feel like a fool. How much of what I thought he was feeling was the truth?

  Slowly picking myself up, I walked toward the kitchen. Just a few hours ago, he’d made me feel like the most important person on the planet. But maybe that was my mistake. Maybe I was confusing sex with something more. Maybe Nick—

  I’d just put my clutch down and was bending over to take off my new shoes, when a knock sounded at the door. And if possible, the knock sounded frantic. Or maybe that was my imagination, because I knew there was only one person it could be.

  I hesitated for only a couple seconds before his fist pounded again and I reluctantly walked to the door. Hand on the knob, I took a deep breath before pulling it open.

  It felt odd to be in the exact same position we were in five hours ago. Only this time there were no butterflies. My heart was content to stay in my chest, protected by the cage that kept it. And it felt like it would take a lot of work to get my lips to lift again.

  Nick cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

  I slowly backed up and let him through. After shutting and locking the door, I followed him toward the family room. He was standing by the fireplace, looking at pictures. I followed his stare to the family portrait. My brunette hair was like a beacon against my blonde family. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him turn toward me.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Money is a sore spot for me, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. All those things I said…” I looked over to see him shaking his head. “They were lies.”

  “You’re not wrong about the world. Or how I see it.” I shrugged and wrapped my arms around my waist, trying to stop any more tears from falling. “I guess I thought that was one of the things you liked about me.”

  “I do.” Nick quickly stepped forward and held out his hands, but I backed up. He frowned and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

  Looking down, I studied my shoes and thought about how excited I’d been to wear them and for Nick to meet my family. I certainly hadn’t counted on everything going down like this. His words hurt because they hit a nerve. I’d tried not to think about it, but it was always nagging in the back of my mind.

  I finally looked up and asked, “Why did you want to take me on a date?�
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  “What?” His expression twisted in shock.

  “I know I haven’t said anything, but you aren’t the only one who’s been insecure in this relationship. I thought about how annoyed you got in the beginning and I don’t understand what you see in me.” Nick opened his mouth, but I waved my hand to stop him. “I’m proud and very happy with who I am. I’m not asking this because I need reassurances about myself, I’m asking because, just like you, I’ve wondered if we’re too opposite.” I took a deep breath, ready to release my biggest fear. “And sometimes I wonder, even though you didn’t act grateful in the beginning and you were insistent on not giving me anything, if you feel like you owe me. Maybe you would have wanted to be with any girl who gave you a kidney and tried to befriend you.”

  Nick started shaking his head.

  “You’re wrong. I’m with you because I fucking want to be. The only reason I was annoyed was because I was scared you were too good to be true. I don’t feel indebted to you either.” This time when he stepped forward he didn’t give me a chance to back away. Nick grabbed my hands and leveled me with his gaze.

  “Iris, you said, maybe I would have ended up with anyone who gave me a kidney. But don’t you see? No one else would have done that. You’re one-of-a-kind. You amaze me. Even if your optimism annoys me on occasion, it’s not something I want to change. I need you, just as you are.”

  I let out a breath of relief and when he pulled me into a hug, I didn’t fight him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into my hair once more.

  “Me too.”

  Nick abruptly pulled backed and held me by the shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said forcefully.

  Shaking my head, I said, “Not for me. For Kent… for Calla.” I frowned. “I don’t know what got into him, and Calla just hasn’t been herself lately. But I promise they aren’t like that. Maybe they’re stressed or sleep deprived. I know Mirielle was colicky earlier on, maybe some of that is still happening? Or—”

  He cut me off with a quick kiss, and I felt those butterflies come back and my heart started to pound again. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

  I nodded. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “Me neither,” Nick readily agreed.

  “What do you wanna do?” I whispered.

  His eyes heated as they dropped to my bare legs and moved down. “I remember you saying something about wanting to break these heels in…” Nick’s hands skimmed down the front of my thighs, stopping at my knees and curling around.

  At dinner I told my mom the shoes were new and I couldn’t wait for the pinchy feeling to go away once I broke them in, but I had a feeling Nick meant a different kind of “break in.”

  I let out a squeak as he knelt and tugged me forward, his fingers brushing down my calves before landing on my ankles where the straps of my heels met skin.

  Nick kissed each knee as his fingers continued to dance over my legs, eliciting tiny shivers with each pass. “I want to wrap these gorgeous legs around me. I want to feel the spikes digging into my shoulders as I eat you out. I want there to be marks on my back because you came so hard.”

  “Nick…” My breaths were coming out quick as I watched him stand and wrap his hands around my waist.

  “Then I’m going to make love to you slowly, with so much tenderness you won’t have any doubts about how sorry I am.”

  I didn’t tell him that he’d already assuaged my doubts; instead I let him lead me down the hallway and deliver on both of his promises.

  “Tell me something no one else knows,” Nick said as he leaned against the headboard and I sat on his lap. His hands were resting on my hips and my arms were loosely wrapped around his neck. It was hours later and both of us were exhausted, but we weren’t even attempting to go to sleep. He’d thrown on a pair of boxers and I was wearing his shirt—something that seemed to make him extremely happy.

  My cheeks burned as I thought about something no one else knew. “Oh, it’s good, I can tell.” Nick laughed as he squeezed my sides and drew me closer. “Tell me.”

  “I took a couple of pole and lap dancing classes.”

  His hands fell away as his jaw dropped. Nick’s eyes began roaming down my body as if he’d never seen me before. “You… damn, that is something I’d like to see.”

  I slugged him in the arm. “Yeah, well, we did it for fun. No offense to all the strippers out there, but I’ll never take my clothes off for money and gyrate on a stage or a stranger’s lap.”

  I took pity on him when he started pouting. “We don’t have access to any poles, but I think lap dances might be a boyfriend perk that can be awarded at some time.”

  Licking his lips, he murmured, “I think you’re right. C’mere.” I shuffled closer, doing my best to look as desirable as I felt. Nick’s hands landed on my thighs, skimming from my knees and disappearing under the shirt I had on.

  “You pretend to look proper and nice… you never swear or go over the speed limit. You never wear a skirt above the knees, never show too much cleavage.” He looked like he was in pain as his eyes lingered on the top of his shirt I was wearing, with no trace of cleavage.

  “All of which I’m proud of,” I responded. The last word came out a little breathy as he leaned forward and began laying kisses along my exposed throat.

  “But underneath all that, underneath this…” His hands trailed up my side and stopped at the neckline, gently pulling it down until he saw the tops of my breasts. His shirt was so large on me it didn’t feel uncomfortable. The soft touches he left had me shivering. “You’re not a very good girl, are you?”

  Nick’s fingers moved to the bottom hem of the shirt, toying with it without bringing it up. My mind was stunned into silence.

  Are we really having this conversation?

  “I bet you like to get spanked.” My nose crinkled and some of the lust receded. I’d like to think I was open to new things, but having my butt—or any part of me—smacked didn’t hold much appeal.

  And it wasn’t us. The spanking. The punishment. To each their own, but that wasn’t something either of us got off on. When Nick held my neck it was never about pain. He never hurt me—never even came close.

  It was about trust. Comfort. Which seemed contradictory, but it wasn’t if you really thought about it. The only thing that made it dangerous or painful was intent. And Nick never intended to hurt me. Knowing he had the power to, but had no intention, made me feel safer than anyone ever had. Than anyone ever could.

  I moved back when I felt Nick’s chuckle vibrate against my chest.

  “I cringed the second it was out of my mouth.” He shook his head and we both started laughing uncontrollably.

  “That’s not us, is it?” he managed to get out when we’d calmed down.

  “Nope. Not us at all.”

  Our laughter faded to content smiles, which eventually turned thoughtful.

  Us.

  We were frozen as the word settled in our laps.

  We were an us. It wasn’t him and me, it was we. The two of us, for some extended period of time, were one.

  “Us,” Nick whispered, like he was thinking the same thing.

  I didn’t respond with words; instead I leaned forward and swept my mouth across his, sealing the unspoken promise.

  We were finally winding down for sleep, Iris tightly wrapped around me, when she whispered.

  “Nick?”

  “Yeah?”

  “My birth dad used to pick me up and twirl me around in the kitchen while my mom made dinner. And sometimes he’d tickle my stomach until I thought I’d throw up. The hands of someone who held a gun on a cashier and cut lines of cocaine were also the hands that made me feel loved beyond measure.

  “I remember watching my birth parents. They’d dance in the kitchen, make out like teenagers on the couch—keeping it PG, of course—and hold hands pretty much everywhere we went. Their love was so pure, so unguarded and beautiful
. They had their wedding rings tattooed on. People would look at them like they were crazy. Told them they’d never make it. They made it almost eight years, and when it was over, it wasn’t by choice.” I stayed silent, just running the tips of my fingers down her arm.

  “When the Chamberlains adopted me, I didn’t understand. They didn’t act the way my birth parents had. When I asked Mom why she didn’t love Dad, she frowned and asked me why I thought that. I told her it was because I never saw them kiss or dance in the kitchen. She smiled like she understood. She tapped me on the nose and told me to watch a little bit closer.”

  “What’d you see?”

  She tipped her face toward me and smiled. “Their kind of love. I watched while they made dinner, as they tucked us in at night, or when they had a fight. In the kitchen, they moved around each other in perfect harmony, like a dance they’d been performing their whole lives, only they never touched. He knew what she needed without her saying a word, and when he handed it to her, she gave him a look that only a person in love could. When they would stop by our bedrooms to check on us one last time, Dad would always smooth out the blanket at the end of the bed before he let Mom sit there. Apparently she had sat down on one of Aster’s train toys when he was younger. The little weirdo liked to sleep with them.” Iris smiled.

  “And when they fought?” I whispered, reminding her.

  “When Dad screwed up, because it was always his fault,” she teased.

  “But of course.” I grinned down at her.

  “Mom would banish him to the couch. And every time when he walked to the hall closet to get the blanket and pillow he used, he would come back and a book would be on the coffee table, whatever book he was reading at the moment. He’d smile, pick it up, and place a soft kiss on it before he started reading. Mom knew how much he enjoyed reading before bed.