Page 159 of Maybe You

“Myself,” he says. He takes a deep breath. “I’m gonna need you to do that thing where you don’t let me let you go.”

I have a lot of questions and no answers, but I try to prioritize.

I start by not letting him let me go.

Literally.

I climb into the tub and settle in between his legs, my back against his chest. I link my fingers with his and pull his hands against my chest.

We sit like that for a long time.

“I ran into my father today,” he says.

I have no idea what to say.

I squeeze his fingers.

“Every fucking time it happens, I think this city is too small for the both of us,” he continues tightly. “And then I feel like running.”

I make myself breathe.

“How come you didn’t?” I ask quietly.

He’s still rigid and tense behind me, but his words are soft.

“You put birds on my wall. And then I didn’t. There was a moment when I considered it. And then I started cycling through the possibilities. Where to go, right? Anywhere on the West Coast. Or maybe all the way across the ocean. New Zealand. But then my brain was all, ‘Yeah, but Wren has one more year of school left, so it’d be idiotic to ask him to transfer for that.’”

I lean my head back against his shoulder and look up at him.

“I would if it was really what you wanted. You know that, right?”

“Just… lie on top of me and keep me still?” he says with a smile that’s marginally closer to amused than tense.

“I can do that.”

So I press myself against him. Spread my fingers out on his arms and make myself as large as possible to cover as much of him as I can.

“He was with some woman,” he says after a little while.

I wait.

“It’s not the first time,” he continues. “He’s been married. After. Once. The divorce was quick. I went to see her before. I tried to tell her. She didn’t believe me.”

“That’s not on you,” I say.

“It feels like it is some days.”

“You can. I give you permission. Feel whatever you want. And then shake it off. Or cry it out. Or fuck it out. Whatever helps.”

He takes a few deep breaths, one right after another, his nose in my hair.

I melt against him just a bit more, if at all possible.

“I need you to know,” he says. “What you mean to me. I need to tell you. Right now. Because I need this day to be about something else. Something better.”

I nod wordlessly.

He takes my hand and links our fingers, then presses them against my chest, right where my heart is beating.