Page 302 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
“About everything, and where we go from here.”
“Hopefully, that’s in separate ways?”
I nod.
“You could do better than him.”
I nod again, standing with a single tie in hand, and moving away from the torn-open sacks and the mess falling out of them. “I’ll sort these tomorrow. I need to get out of this room,” I say, with a scratchy throat.
“Are you doing okay?”
I stop before him, standing between his parted legs. “I feel suffocated by guilt. I can’t eat. Can’t relax. There’s just this heavy feeling in my chest constantly.”
“Dad said?—”
“I know what he said, but how can anyone forgive what I did.”
“You thought I did it. Did you forgive me?”
Nodding, I drop to his knee. His arms and the feeling of safety they bring wrap around my waist. He doesn’t flinch, grazing my colostomy bag over my clothes.
“I did. I thought it was a psychotic break, because I knew you’d never hurt them.”
“And that’s what it was, Dollie.” Ambrose’s voice gets croaky again, and I find my fingers on his throat before even thinking about it. “It was still a psychotic break. It wasn’t you. They’ve forgiven you. I don’t doubt that. I have.”
“But it hurts you.”
“It hurts us both.”
Nodding again, I wipe my wet eyes and turn the conversation in another direction. “I guess I should get back.”
“To him?” Ambrose holds me as I try to leave his space, his hands locking tightly on my hips. “If you’re thinking of staying with him, just know, you deserve better than a man you’re afraid of. Regardless of what you think, you deserve the world.”
“You mean like a man who’d do anything for me?” I ask, breaking free of his hold and edging to Dad’s pillow. I set down a lilac tie that’s been in my hands for the last few minutes, soothing me along with Ambrose’s touch.
This time, he nods.
Glancing at the door, I check to make sure Shane really has gone to my room and isn’t lurking somewhere. “It’s a nice dream, but you can’t touch me without being sick, Ambrose.”
“I’ll work on that.” He gives me a side smile, that irresistible dimple popping.
“That’s what you want?”
“I told you, I have no regrets.”
“You’re telling me lies, I can see it.”
“I’m not. It’s just that I worry about moving from siblings to more. And in truth, about disappointing Mom and Dad, and what people will say.” His words become silent, communicating with me through signing,.That you’re brainwashed, because they won’t understand that you might actually be able to love me.
“No one else has to understand my feelings.”
“So much could go wrong. It kinda feels wrong to want you as much as I do, the way I do.” His hand massages his throat as he attempts talking with words again.
“Not to me. You never feel wrong. I never feel sick when I’m close to you. I feel safe. I feel sick when I think about losing you.”
“You won’t ever lose me again. We can’t take back what’s already happened, and I don’t want to, Dollie.”
I take in his words, letting them settle before I reply.
