Page 120 of Sweeper
Like a dream, I hear Daphney singing a song about me. About her. About us. Her voice is pure and honest, and I follow it out of my apartment, hearing it in the hallway, and outside her door that’s propped open, like she’s expecting me. I walk into her place and find her sitting in the tub with her guitar in front of her. She’s in her silk pajamas, and her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head.
She’s never looked more beautiful.
The final note echoes off the tile walls, and her wobbly smile finds mine. My entire body trembles from the multiple proclamations in her lyrics. She’s not just saying all the things I’ve been wanting to hear for the past week. She’s singing them.
“You’re going to wake the neighbors,” I say with a weak laugh because I’m an idiot and can’t come up with anything more meaningful at this moment.
“Was only trying to wake one neighbor.” She moves to get out of the tub, and I quickly offer her my hand. She takes it, and the sensation of our skin touching is equal parts heavenly and painful as she steps down onto the tile floor.
She looks so small as she stands barefoot and vulnerable in her bathroom. Her guitar is clutched tightly in front of her like she needs to hold it for protection.
“Did you hear the whole thing?” she asks, her blue eyes glowing magically in the vanity light.
I nod slowly, my eyes searching hers. “It was beautiful.”
“I started it weeks ago when I went back to my parents’ to work on that jingle.” She laughs dryly. “I changed a few lines tonight because…well, a lot has changed from then to now.”
I swallow the knot in my throat. “Has it?”
“Yes, which is why I pushed you away.” Her chin trembles as she looks to the side, avoiding my eyes as she struggles to say the next part. “You were just supposed to be fun, Zander. I was just coming off a horrible relationship, and you were going to be a fun distraction from my stressful and somewhat disappointing life. I wasn’t supposed to connect with you and care about you and your mum and your cookie addiction. You weren’t supposed to readBridgetbloodyJones!”
My face contorts in a confused laugh. “I’m sorry?”
“Don’t be sorry.” She sniffs and shakes her head, her eyes blazing into mine. “I’m besotted with you. Your playfulness and surprising tenderness have been the best surprise of my life. I pushed you away because I was terrified that I could be hurt again like before, but I’ve only now realized that before doesn’t matter. No man has ever made me feel the way you make me feel. Orgasms included.” She expels a garbled laugh and adds, “And I’d rather live in fear loving you than live safely not loving you.”
It’s as if she’s taking the words right out of my mouth. And hearing her say all the things she sang before means so much to me. But she’s still not all the way there yet.
“I don’t want you to be afraid, Daphney,” I state, reaching out to grab her chin so she’s forced to look at me. I need to see her face when she answers this question. “What scares you so much about me?”
“That you don’t love me back.” She shrugs helplessly. “I guess I just can’t imagine you care that much when you hid such a huge part of your life from me.”
My brows furrow at the evident pain on her face. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t get that it was because I love her that I hid this from her. I inhale a deep breath and move closer to her, my body hovering over hers, aching to wrap itself around her but knowing she needs to hear these words first.
“Daphney, the reason I didn’t tell you was because since the day you and I started, you have been my safe place. My ally.” My voice cracks at the end because the truth of those words is heavy and real. “At a time I didn’t know where I belonged in this world, you made me feel at home. Your place, my place, the damn hallway with the mouse house. If you were there, I was home. And I didn’t want to taint the one good thing in my life that I could depend on. That was you, Ducky. You and your music and your horrible fucking cookies.”
“What?” Her face shifts from emotional processing to confused annoyance in the blink of an eye. “My cookies?”
“They were awful. They tasted like playdough and bad feelings,” I reply softly, my nose wrinkling with disgust.
“Do you honestly think this is the time for jokes?” Her tone is scolding as she drops the guitar to her side. “I just sang a song begging you to forgive me, and you’re making jokes.”
“I’m not joking,” I state seriously, feeling my stomach roil just from talking about them. “I mean it, Ducky. You can never make those cookies again. I love you, but those cookies taste like prison food and regret.”
She huffs out a noise of indignation, and then her dazzling blue eyes snap to me. “Wait…did you just say you love me?”
“Hell yes, I did,” I reply, taking a step closer to devour the sweet, shocking innocence stricken all over her face. She’s so blind, but I will make it my life’s mission to make her see this.
“Surely you’re just having a laugh?” she rasps, her breath quickening as she props her guitar on the wall with shaky hands. She turns to gaze back up at me with nearly manic eyes.
“Does it look like I’m laughing?” I stare unblinking at her because I need her to see this, to accept it, and to let it wash over both of us so we’re clean and new again. “I love you, Ducky.”
Her chin trembles as she sputters, “Why the bloody hell didn’t you say this to me before?” The hollows of her cheeks suck in as her brows pinch together in her classic punishing glower. She goes from sad to emotional to angry in like three seconds. It’s an impressive emotional range. Right now, she’s giving me warring neighbor vibes like when we first butted heads, and I’m here for all of it.
“Sweetheart,” my voice is a plea as I cradle her face in my hands so she can see the sincerity in my eyes. “I knew I loved you the moment I looked up into the stands at Emirates Stadium and saw you standing there in my team colors. I’ve never wanted someone wearing my jersey more in my fucking life. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I guess I was scared too, but after hearing your song, I know for certain that I love you. I’m notinlove with you because that indicates I could falloutof love with you. And this love I have for you feels like a forever kind of love. Like the kind of love my dad had for my mom. The kind of love he must have had to raise me and claim me as his own his whole life without hesitation. I love you, Daphney. I love you.”
My voice breaks on the end, and I gasp for breath, realizing I forgot to breathe during all of that. But it’s stuff that’s been circulating in my head for the past two weeks, and it feels so damn good to get it out.
Daphney inhales a shaky breath as her eyes well with tears. She reaches up and cups my hands over her cheeks. Her smile and tears are infectious, and I can’t help but mirror them as she says three little words to me. “Please don’t move.”
