Page 38 of The Chad Next Door
She falls asleep around five in the morning after forcing me to choose a favorite book. (I pickedThe Three Musketeers, but choosing a favorite book is like choosing a favorite sibling; I can’t actually pick one. I only said something because Hope told me she wouldn’t kiss me again unless I did, and I wasn’t willing to risk it.) She has been in every position imaginable tonight—whether cross-legged on the ottoman, lying in my lap, sitting against my legs while I rub her shoulders or braid her hair—but right now she’s in my arms where she should be as we lie on the couch together. And I never want to let her go.
At this point, she literally knows me better than anyone else in the world. She knows that I broke my toe when I was ten and never told anyone, and it still aches when it’s cold outside. She knows I don’t like ketchup on burgers but love it on eggs. She knows I still made wishes on shooting stars until I was in my mid-twenties. (She especially loved this fact.) She knows I’m the one who caught my dad in bed with another woman when I was ten. I was too young to know anything about what, exactly, they were doing, but I knew it was bad. I told my mom about it that afternoon, and she didn’t bother confronting him before she packed us up and moved out because she trusted me.
Hope knows that I cried like a baby when Mercedes miscarried and that I’m terrified of going through that sort of loss again.
I’ve never been known like this. Not even by my siblings. They see the man who helped raise them, who set the rules and made dinner and talked them through their tougher moments. I’ve always been there for them and always will be, but I’ve never been open and vulnerable with them. They don’t even know why Mercedes and I broke up, even if I wish I had talked to them about it so I didn’t have to carry that hurt all on my own.
I have always protected my heart, but Hope made it so easy to let her in that I’m not sure I’ll have any armor left if this goes wrong. What will happen to me then?
I tighten my hold on her, breathing in the smell of her hair. I wonder what she usually smells like since she used my shampoo this afternoon, but this smell is so familiar that I almost prefer it. It means she’s here in my life, sharing my space and my soap and my soul.
I’m in trouble.
Trying not to wake her, I crawl off the couch and lift her into my arms to take her to my bed so she can get some sleep without the kids interrupting. She snuggles into me as I walk, still half asleep, and she moans when I set her down on the mattress and step away.
“Stay,” she murmurs, reaching out a hand.
I want to. I want this to be the rest of my life, but I know myself well enough to know that I’ve fallen so hard that I can’t mess this up. I don’t want another Mercedes situation where she stays with me out of obligation or some sense of duty, and I don’t want Hope to think I’m only in this for the physical aspects. She is so much more than that.
After tonight (this morning?) I know her parents died in a car accident when she was sixteen and she ended up applying for emancipation instead of moving in with a relative. She wants to study the universe because she thinks it is proof of a higher power, one she wants to know better even though the hand she’s been dealt in life isn’t great from my perspective. She told me about how she thinks there is more to life than the space between birth and death, to the point where she almost has me convinced to believe it with her. She almost never gets embarrassed (which I already suspected) and has always been an extrovert unless she has a good book to read. Even then, she considers the characters to be real people and says it’s just like being surrounded by friends. She’s never afraid to try new things and always pushes back when she knows she’s right about something.
I don’t know if I ever pictured my perfect partner, but I’m starting to think that if I had, she would have looked a lot like Hope.
Tucking her fingers away with the rest of her, I brush a kiss against her temple and close my eyes, breathing in this moment and letting myself imagine a life with this woman. Hank was right, and I do have a heart beating in my chest because it hasn’t stopped pounding since the first time I held her in my arms.
Yes, I’m talking about the hardware store. When she came into my life like a tornado and literally knocked me off my feet. I haven’t been the same since, and I’ve been fooling myself into thinking I ever had any sense of control over my feelings for this woman. Hope Duncan is a woman who cannot be controlled, in the best way, and my life is better for having her in it.
“I love you, Chad,” she murmurs, though I’m pretty sure she’s asleep again.
My heart beats those words right back.I love you. I love you. I love you.But I can’t get them to leave my tongue.
Saying it out loud feels like giving the universe the power to intervene, and I am terrified that if I do that, I’m going to lose her.
I get less than an hour of sleep before the kids are up and literally jumping on me, begging me to play outside with them again. Though I groan and grumble, they are undeterred, and somehow they convince even Duke to join in on the coercion. He gives my face a thorough licking until I roll off the couch and make an entire pot of coffee, though I’m not sure that will be enough. Link and Zelda each down a bowl of cereal while I attempt to keep my eyes open—my attempts are mostly unsuccessful—and then we’re outside in the cold.
The kids play on their own, building up a fort wall with what snow is left by making bricks with a bread pan, which means I can sit on the deck and nurse a thermos mug of coffee. Duke’s keeping a pretty good eye on them, but I am not going to be the guy who lets something horrible happen to a kid just because I was tired after making out with their mom all night.
“Chad, we found tracks!”
I jolt awake, unsure how long I was out but fully aware of the stream of coffee dribbling out of my mug and onto my boots.Nice. “Tracks?” I grunt, blinking in the sunlight glinting off the quickly melting snow.
Zelda points toward their house. “The wolverine!”
So the badgerhasbeen back? Now I’m happier than ever that I asked Hope to stay at my house so there’s no danger of the kids running into a wild animal. Link looks way too excited about the idea of a creature climbing in and out of his window, and I should do something to make sure they don’t get any crazy ideas.
“He probably got scared by the storm,” I mutter, rubbing my jaw. “He must have gone back to his home after it ended.”
“I thought Barry’s home was in the closet,” Link says with a frown.
Oh good, we’ve named the badger. I take a deep breath. I am not awake enough for this. “No, his home is out in the forest somewhere. Are you kids ready to go back inside?”
“We haven’t done our snowball fight yet!” Zelda complains.
“Yeah, okay, fine. Do your fight. Duke, keep watch.”
I fall asleep to their giggles and screams.
A pair of arms snaking around my shoulders wakes me up, and I could get used to the way Hope snuggles up from behind my chair and presses her cheek against mine. “You let me sleep in,” she says, as if that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever done.
