Page 124 of Light in the Dark
“Easy for you to say. You weren't jerking off where I could hear."
"True." I feel my mouth running, hear myself saying stupid shit—and I'm powerless to stop myself. "I could arrange for that, if it'd make you feel any better."
"It just might," she whispers, stepping closer. "Although, if I'm being brutally honest…I'd rather watch." She licks her lips nervously. “Or help.”
"Fuck, Em." I swallow hard. "Donotfucking tease me."
"I'm not, I swear."
"What did you and Noelle talk about that prompted this whole…conversation?" I ask.
"Wanting you, being attracted to you, our chemistry…none of that was ever the issue holding me back, Fee. The opposite. I'm…I've been mixed up about you because…I…" She looks away, thinking, then back to me, starting over. "It's because of how attracted to you I really am. How strong my feelings are."
"And that conflicts with your grieving process?" I ask.
She tips her head side to side. "Sort of?" A pause. "I just…I miss him, you know? From the day I met him in Oregon until the day he passed, I never spent a single day away from him. I don't know if I spent more than an hour or two here and there apart from him in the eight years we were together. And then he's just…gone."
She backs up and turns around, speaking, facing away from me. "It’s so hard to put into words, Felix. It's not just missing him that's messing with me. It's…everything. My whole way of life—he became nomadic with me. That's not an option for you—it's just not, and I'd never in a million years even ask. Your life is here. But I've never belonged anywhere, with anyone but Mom and then Dutchie. And now…everything is different. My whole way of life is…just gone. And I…" she hesitates, her voice wet with tears. "Dammit. Fuck!" Pause. "I don't know if I could go back to the way it was. If I even want to, whether anything happens with you or not. Being on the road, vlogging, I can't do that without Dutchie. That wasourthing. Ourlife. He’s gone, and it's gone with him."
"Ember," I start.
She holds up a hand, still facing away from me. "Just…let me get this out. Or, let me try at least."
This is a thing with her, I think: she stews on things for a while, and then has to let it all out in an uninterrupted monologue.
“Okay," I say. "I'm here, and I'm listening."
She reaches behind herself without looking. "Come closer. Please."
I move closer and take her hand—she pulls me up against her and snugs both of my arms around her middle, leans back against my chest and takes a few slow breaths.
"That's all one part," she says. "Then there's you and me. I told you about my relationship with him. We talked about our sex life a bit too. And…in talking to Noelle what I…well, I knew it, but talking to her was the first time I verbalized it out loud."
"What's that?"
"My physical connection to you is fucking insane. How I respond to you. How I feel about you. How it feels to be with you, even considering the fact that we haven’t actually had sex." She tightens her grip on my hands, squeezing harder. "That's hard for me to come to grips with. Because I…I don't know how to feel about it. What does it say about my relationship with Dutchie? He healed me. Gave me the space and safety to heal and feel comfortable in my body, and with my sexuality. I wouldn't be able to be like this with you without what he did for me. But…letting myself just enjoy…you, us? It feels like a betrayal even though I know it's not, even though I promised Dutchie on his deathbed that I'd move on and let myself fall in love again. But it’s just not that fucking easy."
"I understand all that, Ember," I say. "Not from personal experience, obviously, but I get it. It makes perfect sense. And I'm willing to wait until you’re ready. If you find out you're never ready, I'd understand that too—I won't lie and say that I wouldn't be hurt if you decided you couldn't be with meever, but I’d get it. I wouldn't hold it against you."
"I'm not saying that."
"Whatareyou saying?"
She doesn't answer for a few moments. “When you said the thing about only doing what you'd do for a friend, I sort of freaked out a little bit. Or a lot a bit."
"I just meant—" I start.
"I know thatnow,” she interrupts. "But it just…I guess it made me realize that I don't want to lose you."
I feel my heart slam against the prison bars of my ribcage, hear my blood roaring in my ears. "You're not going to. You haven't."
She turns in my arms, keeping hers pinned between us, hands flat on my chest. "Ever."
"I'm here, Ember. I've got you. Just…say the word and I'm yours."
"What's the word?" she asks.
The germinating seed of hope sprouts, blooms. "Figure of speech, babe. Just tell me you're ready. And for the record, this is still on your terms and at your pace—whatever it is."
