Page 73 of A Follow-Through in Faking
“Didn’t you want to go visit your family today?” he says when I wash off the toothpaste from his toothbrush, placing it back in the holder.
The bathroom is a mess. The rest of his house is clean because he clearly didn’t do more than lie in his bed since he came back, but his bathroom has clothes everywhere, his suitcase half-opened in the corner along with tennis balls, rackets, and bottles of electrolytes. It’s not dirty, but it’s messy.
“I was going to, but—” I cut off, biting down on my bottom lip.
“I sent you that message,” Santi finishes, and I meet his gaze to see the sadness in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Catalina. I didn’t mean for you to have to change your plans. I’m sorry.” Tears return, but I grab his face in my hands and force him to look at me as I shake my head.
“My day trip to see my family can wait. You’re mental well-being is more important to me right now,” I say, but tears drop down his cheeks.
“It shouldn’t be. I’ll be fine. You should go, Cata. I know you miss them. I don’t want to be the one to—” I kiss him to cut him off. It’s barely more than a press of my lips to his, barelyanything at all, but Santi melts against me and the tension finally leaves his body again.
“Don’t make me say it out loud, Santi. I’m not ready to,” I whisper, even though I know that my actions speak louder than any words. I may not want to say it out loud, but that doesn’t make it less true. I care so much about Santi. He’s one of the most important people in my life and if he doesn’t feel well, then I’m going to do everything in my power to make him feel better.
“Then kiss me again. Please. Kiss me so I can feel what you feel.”
I press my mouth to his.
Kissing isn’t necessarily linked to vulnerability. Being naked is. Having sex is. But kissing? Kissing isn’t considered as meaningful, but I think that’s wrong because kissing Santiago makes me feel more vulnerable than I’ve ever felt in my life.
It feels as if I’m baring myself to him. As if he can look into the deepest parts of me and study them, analyze them, determine if they’re something he likes or doesn’t like. As if he’s tying his soul to mine and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
If I’m being honest, I don’t want to stop it. I want him tied to me in every way possible. I want him to feel everything I do as deeply.
So as my mouth glides over his, I’m ensuring I’ll never leave his mind. I’m ensuring he’ll never want to kiss anyone else but me. I’m ensuring he knows kissing him is addictive for me.
He tastes like his toothpaste, which only makes me deepen the kiss. Santi’s hands roam upward, stopping at my hips to squeeze them once. I think if he had energy, he’d be lifting me onto his lap, but this kiss isn’t meant to lead anywhere. He’s finding comfort in it, comfort he very desperately needs at the moment. Comfort he will also get by showering. So, I kiss him once more before leaning back and urging him to wash.
“Will you shower with me?” he asks, the tiniest of smirks covering his mouth.
“Do you need me to because you don’t have energy or because you want to have me naked in your shower?” I ask, and he places his forehead against my stomach.
“Can’t it be both?” he replies, and I let out a small laugh.
“Is that really how you want to see me without any clothes on for the first time?” His head snaps up again before he shakes it. “Well, then there you go,” I say, running my hands through his hair. “Go shower. I’ll be outside with more things to do for us,” I promise, kissing his forehead once and then leaving his bathroom.
It takes him a while to shower and get dressed, but I don’t rush him. It’s clear that when a depressive episode hits Santi, he needs more time to do things other people consider small tasks, so I’d never, ever stress him. Instead, I set up our food and game, then start playing with Tornado.
“This is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Santi says right as I scratch Tornado’s big, fluffy ears.
Santi is leaning against the doorframe leading into his living room, his head tilted to rest against it. He takes in the image in front of him, all of his favorite foods spread out on the table, as well as a new board game, and a bunch of candles I found because I didn’t want to open the curtains or turn on the light if he wants to have it a bit darker in here. It gives it an awfully romantic vibe, but I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would. For my ex-girlfriend, I used to do something like this every week. I just never saw myself doing it for Santi.
Tornado hops to Santi as soon as he sees him, but I don’t quite manage to break eye contact with my fake boyfriend as he studies me. There is a new look on his face, one I haven’t seen in years, and I welcome it back with open arms because this is how he used to look at me. Without our past hanging between us.Without a filter. Without trying to hide that it’s always been me. He’s said he wants me, but it’s another thing entirely to see how desperately in his eyes.
“Come, sit. I thought we could eat and play this game that I found,” I say and gesture toward the board. Santi pushes off the doorframe and picks up Tornado, sitting down with him across from me a second later.
“I wanted to be the one to take you on our first real date, but I have to admit, this is really nice,” he says once we start eating.
“Of course it is. I’m amazing at this,” I say with a small smile that has Santi’s tired face lighting up.
“You are.” He takes a sip of his iced tea, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re amazing at everything. It’s annoying.” I snort, but he seems to truly mean those words, so I clear my throat as a cover-up.
“I’m sorry?” Santi’s still smirking, and it’s my turn to shake my head at him.
Silence engulfs the room as we eat and drink, but as soon as we get to the game, we can’t stop talking. About the game. About life. About everything. We talk and talk and talk until hours pass, and we play several rounds ofMensch Ärgere Dich Nicht. It’s a brutal game, and every time we kick each other out, we start yelling at each other—not seriously, but in a teasing kind of way that leads to us bursting into laughter.
Afterward, we go for a walk because Santi told me it helps his mind a lot. I don’t even mind him taking my hand as we take step by step as a couple. And not a fake couple. No, this feels very real.
Monaco is very beautiful by day. It has that old-money kind of feeling to it. I find it even more beautiful at night. When the lights all around us illuminate this tiny country. When the people are strolling down the streets, talking about nothing and everything. When I get to admire all the fancy cars that drive by.
