But he scoops up my cheeks to give me a small kiss. "I'm worrying you.”
“No, I just don't know if I’m making it worse or not when I really,reallywish I could help you feel better.”
He swallows. “It’s not you. I got silent because I'm afraid to ask you a favor.”
I sit on my heels, leaning against the tub’s edge. “Then all the more reason to ask.”
He gives me a soft chuckle, his focus flickering between my eyes. “Can we–? Um–” He takes a deep breath. “Can we try the scene?”
I’m taken aback. He’s never seemed hesitant for any of our established scenes before. “Which scene?”
Fiddling with my fingers, Remington’s voice remains soft. “The one you came up with when I told you what he did.”
My breath shakes as I stare at his rising shoulders. Remington is referring to the scene where I come in to rescue him instead.
“Absolutely. But when? It’s still so raw, Rem.”
His hard breath sounds startlingly close to a cry. Pulling my hand to his chest, Remington’s tension shoots my heart into overdrive. “I feel physically sick from carrying this, L.L.B. I can’t bear it any longer.”
I choke out a sharp breath as tears prick my eyes.
But Remington continues. “I feel like I have to try. I want to get this out of me, especially now that he’s gone. I don’t want to rot with him.”
As he lifts his chin to find my warped, sobbing expression, his eyebrows arch.
“Oh, baby, please, don’t worry. I’m ready to start trying to let this go, finally. I'm tired of holding it alone. And I trust you. I trust you with my whole heart.”
My heart swells until I can’t stand it anymore. The bath sloshes as I push a wet kiss into his mouth, hiccupping through tears. His hot hands soaking my upper arms remind me that he’s okay. He’s here, and he’s giving me the power to support him in a tremendous, raw way.
Hurriedly swiping the tears from my cheeks, I smile. “Sorry. I just feel for you so deeply. But I trust you too, and I want to be there for you so badly.”
He softly smiles. “I know. I can feel it. It helps more than I think you realize.”
I fetch the giant, fluffy, white towel Remington usually saves for me. “T-then, do you mean you want to work on this now?”
“Please.” He eyes me up and down. “If you feel like your heart can handle it tonight too.”
As I gently rub him dry, I steel my heart. “Okay, my sweet Rem, I’d love to try. Lay down and get cozy in your bed, and I'll turn off the lights when you tell me you’re ready. Is that okay?”
“Yes. Let’s do a quick run-through first, please.”
Setting the towel aside, I hand Remington clean boxers. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do: after I turn off the lights, you’ll be alone in bed. I'll leave the kitchen light on, so you'll see my shadow in the doorway. You won’t know who it is looking into your room yet, and it might feel very scary. But when I step in, you'll see it’s just me. I’ll be there, by your side, to keep you safe in the dark.”
Remington nods, seeming to want to cry again.
“It’s okay to cry, okay? You’re just feeling a lot, which is so good.”
“Thank you. I'm getting in bed.”
He suddenly seems so young that I feel nauseated with him. But I know how much my fairytale role play genuinely did break the ropes binding my heart. I’m dying to help him untie himself.
Once I’ve given him a minute to get in bed, I step into the hallway with a racing heart.
“Remington?” I whisper.
“I’m ready,” he calls out.
“Okay. I love you.”