Page 92 of On Merit Alone
“Ira, it doesn’t?—”
“Shh, now, Merit I’m not done yet,” he continued. “I’m also sorry about today. I noticed after our first interview that you weren’t feeling well. That something was off, and I should have called Ryan right then. I shouldn’t have let you do it. That was a failure on my part. I’m sorry.”
“Ira—”
He moved his hand to slide down my jaw, his thumb rising up to cover my mouth gently. A subtle,shut up. “And I’m sorry about what happened to you, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I had no idea. And I’m sorry if anything I’ve said in the past was insensitive to the fact of your situation—I know, I know. You don’t need to be treated differently. You don’t want to be. But I can’t do that. Iwilltreat you differently. I’m never going to sit here and act like your past hasn’t shaped you as a person. I’m always going to give you grace when it comes to the things that have left you scars. Protect you from the things that might bruise you more easily because of it. And forgive you when you accidentally bruise back.”
Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but they were different from the overwhelming rush of old emotion that almost felt as native to me as my own body.
This feeling was brand new. Tender and trusting and awestruck and just as overwhelming.
I sniffled hard, no idea what to do or say with the way Ira was pronouncing himself right now. No idea what it meant. And no idea how to control my body from reacting to him in this way. Like ithad finally found the water it’d been looking for in a decades long drought.
Liquid slipped over my cheeks and in front of me, Ira hummed. His smooth hands moved up to wipe my tears away as they fell. His calm voice murmuring, “I thought we decided you would stop it with these. They make me crazy, Six.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“What did I say about those words?” he grumbled softly.
“I know, but I have to, Ira,” I whispered. “Because Iamsorry. I feel so bad about reacting that way to you. Any future without basketball terrifies me, and I guess I was just shocked when it didn’t do the same to you. But that’s no excuse. You were telling me something you trusted me to be gentle with and I was the opposite. I’m saying I’m sorry because I really, really am. My feelings on basketball haven’t changed, but my feelings about hurting you—I’m just sorry.”
He was quiet for a small contemplative second before he shrugged. “It’s alright, Six. We’re working on us. We’ll get it soon.”
I gulped at the way he made that sound. I’m sure he didn’t mean it in the way it came out. I would ignore it to spare him having to explain later. Instead, I blinked up, wet eyes and all, and faced him looking directly into his brown eyes. “Can we try it again? I want to know about your options and respond appropriately this time. Will you tell me?”
His mouth depressed into a soft line of hurt and he looked away subtly. Dejectedly, I realized that I’d done that to him. I’d made this unshy man, shy and guarded when it came to something because of my venom. Because I only lashed out when people tried to get close, protecting my party of one so dearly that I sliced anyone who might join down. I regretted it. If anything could make me regret, it was the downcast look on Ira’s face.
I wanted to hunt down a time machine just so I could fix it. Instead I slid forward, my knees landing on the rug below, my bodygoing between Ira’s spread legs. Lifting my hands I rested them on both sides of his neck. They tingled, and I realized that though he had done a lot of touching me, I had yet to touch him in more than just fleeting moments. This intimate closeness made my heart pound. Bowing my head, I let my forehead touch his chest. My thumbs caressing his jumping veins as I held on.
Not looking at him, I begged, “Please, I? There’s no excuse for my behavior, and I know I can’t make it up to you overnight. I can only promise that I’ll try to be as gracious with you as you’ve been to me.”
I could feel him looking down at me. He gripped my chin and made me look at him too. “Eat with me. Tell me about you. And then yes, we can try again.”
So we ate. He made baked chicken, green beans and potatoes, mashed potatoes, and scalloped cheesy potatoes. When I dared to poke at the fact that there were so many potatoes, Ira cut me with a glance and pointed his fork at me threateningly. “So many complaints from the girl who literally only has a sack of potatoes and a couple of cans in her entire kitchen. If you wanted variety, you should have stocked better.”
This had me tossing my head back laughing, the humor of his tone hitting different while seeing him like this for the first time in a while. I’d missed this man who could make my heart feel so light even in my dark times. Having him back was a blessing I didn’t think I would be granted.
When I finished laughing, I noticed him watching me intently and I sobered quickly, worried that I was lightening the mood too much. That maybe he hadn’t yet forgiven me all the way.
When I questioned his gaze with my eyes, he just leaned back in his chair. “Nothing. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh like that before.”
I ducked my head, feeling shy all of a sudden. Speaking into my food rather than to him, I said, “Well you’re funny sometimes.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Only sometimes?”
I nodded, “Only sometimes. Youthinkyou’re funny all the time, though. I guess that ego has got you pretty far in life.”
He snorted. I smiled. We ate like this. Talking casually and chowing down like this was the most normal thing in the world. I didn't dare point out to him that it wasn't. I didn't want to clear the smoke of this illusion just yet.
Later, he ordered dessert—cake from a bakery that was apparently very close to my apartment, but I had no recollection of ever seeing. Ira took the opportunity to slide in a comment about how I needed to expand my interests past basketball but that we would work on that too.
Too.
It’s alright, Six. We’re working on us.
I didn’t forget that he said this or other things like it since we settled down for food. I just didn’t know how to respond to his continued insistence. So I ignored it. Digging into the cake and being pleasantly surprised by the taste. I wasn’t a huge cake person, usually liking sweets that had to do with fruit, but this chocolate one was pretty good. Good enough that I pulled up the menu to check out the other flavors available. While I did, Ira cleaned up our mess and put the TV on.
He didn’t say anything about the first channel to appear being the sports channel. Instead he just plopped himself down on the couch beside me. Close enough now that our legs were pressed right up to each other’s, he turned his head down to look at me. “What else do you like to watch?”
