Page 79 of Unlikely
I didn’t know who I was without her. Every emotion and life experience was tied up with her, and by extension Jesse and Leo. There wasn’t a single thing that was just mine, except for Clementine.
Her smile.
Her laugh.
Her body.
Her heart.
I hope.
It’s all mine.
28
CLEM
Wearing plush white robes, Zara sits up against the headboard of the bed while I have my head resting in her lap. The hotel television is on, the volume low, playing some movie in the background that neither one of us are paying attention to. We’d had sex, we’d showered and eaten, and now my eyes are threatening to close as she gently runs her fingers through my hair.
I’m so relaxed and content, it’s like I’m floating on air. The comfort I feel at being in Zara’s presence is so foreign but addictive.
Life always feels like a rat race, but in this moment, and every one I spend with Zara, the world goes still. Everything is silent, and the only thing that matters is the two of us.
I don’t know if it’s because we’re so meticulous when planning our time together, that we’ve become protective over it, or if it’s because my priorities have been shifting since the moment I met her.
There is no longer an extreme focus on everyone else’s life; the good and the bad. Because of Zara, I can see how we’re all outgrowing our codependency, learning to live for ourselves instead of one another.
I suppose Frankie did it first, but I mistook his choice to leave as selfishness, when in actuality, he did the best thing he could for both himself and Arlo, and it took hindsight to see that.
Now I’m watching Lennox do the same thing as he navigates both his new disability and his new relationship, but I’m understanding it in real time.
Life is complicated and complex, and every part of it has a learning curve. You can plan and prepare all you want, but if life has other plans, you have to get on board or get left behind.
And I don’t want to get left behind.
I don’t want to be the one to turn my back on something good just because it’s different. It’s a sobering thought to realize the life you wanted was so mediocre to the life you could have.
And that’s what life before Zara truly was. Mediocre. It was existing versus living. It was a muted, dull version of happiness that was just enough to keep me going.
“I think I want to get a new job,” I blurt out, plucking out one single line of thought from the mixed bag that is currently my mind. “Something less monotonous.”
Zara continues to thread her fingers through my hair. “Do you have anything specific in mind?”
I glance up at her. “Rochelle offered me a part-time job at the group home.”
“Oh my God.” Zara’s eyes widen in excitement. “When? What did you say?”
“She called me on my way here,” I explain. “Said there was a spot opening up and that my volunteer history was enough experience to be eligible.”
“I’ve seen you with those kids,” she says proudly. “You’re more than eligible.”
My stomach flutters in excitement at the thought of something new and different and challenging. “You make me feel like I can do anything,” I say, surprising myself. But it’s the truth. Making the choice to pursue this relationship with her makes me feel like I can have anything I want.
“That’s because youcando anything.”
Her eyes are full of emotions as she looks down at me; some I recognize, some I don’t, but all of them are just for me.
Both my heart and pulse thud with want as we stare at each other. The air shifting, the tension thickening. It’s close to midnight, and I’m exhausted, yet I need to be close to her.