Page 30 of Crying Shame
He sat back. “Residency changed me. I saw people treated for all sorts of things, and I just became more grateful about everything I had. When I started to be more appreciative and less fearful, everything changed.”
“It's been hard for me to see the good when I've been struggling to pay for everything.” I pressed my lips together, regretting my comment. Lashing out wasn’t good. He couldn't possibly know what it was like to go to a shelter and spend weeks living in a car. My annoyance wasn’t going to help Sam, so I sighed. “But that sounds like a mature attitude.”
“I was a rich brat who was oblivious to how others lived. When I saw how I'd caused my brother Cyrus all that heartache, it was like a double bullet to my chest too. My biggest regret was letting you get away, as I’d had the best and been too stupid to hold on.”
Most men didn't get this deep with me on any topic. Elon was like a magnet that was hard to resist, and yet he wasn’t even trying. He was being respectful.
“I don’t know any other guy who self-reflects like you do.”
“I thought I was surly.”
I smiled. “Not to me. Look, I know you’re being cautious with me to not scare me.”
He stilled. “I don’t want to push you.”
I clinked his glass again. “I wanted to say thank you.”
He blushed, and I didn't think it was because of the wine or the warm water.
“No, that’s too much," he said. "You don’t need to thank me.”
I put my glass back in the holder and folded my hands in my lap. My heart beat faster, and I kept my voice down. “Look, this life you’re presenting to us here… it’s great, really…”
He put his glass next to mine. “But?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. Buying Sam's love wasn’t good for either Elon or Sam. Our son needed responsible parents. I should tell him that, but I held my tongue. “There is no but.”
Silence clung to the air. I wanted to pretend that my attraction to him was sustainable. Something was sending steam through me, and I didn't think it was the water.
Elon asked, “Do you long to act still?”
A script where Elon and I kept living this wonderful life where I ended up his wife and lived here forever played out in my head. I let out a sigh. “I acted to pay bills and pretend… my life was better.”
If I stayed here, I would be free to dream.
He asked, “So what do you want to do?”
Me? I hadn’t let myself focus on what I’d never be able to achieve. I decided to focus now. “Ensure Sam has everything.”
He shrugged, handed me back my glass, and picked up his own. “He will have everything. But what about you? What do you want to do with your life?”
Right now, I wanted to jump up and run away. Telling him what I wanted out of life wasn’t easy. I closed my eyes. He had no idea how frustrating it was to see his perfect life when mine had been a roller coaster. “I want to grow up, like you clearly have.”
“You were always more mature than me.”
“Not true anymore.” I sipped my almost-full drink. Either liquid courage or the memories of the past fueled me to speak. “And if I was like you, where money wasn’t an obstacle…”
His voice was low. “Yeah?”
I refused to look at him. “I’d find a way to write plays.”
“You can do that now.”
Single-mom life where I worked on my feet for twelve hours at a time wasn’t exactly the avenue of indulging dreams. Somehow, though, I'd fit in some writing. “I already do, but they’re not good. I’d want to go to conferences, take some classes, and really figure out how to do it.”
“Why didn’t you pursue that more then? I remember you always penning short stories.”
A scream was lodged in my throat, but I gulped wine from my glass. “Life happened. I needed to pay bills and ensure Sam had everything he needed." I paused. "Why are you being so nice to me?”
