I walk to the back of the bus. Something is up, and I want to know what it is. I slide behind the curtain and sit down on the bed, scooting toward the headboard as I balance my coffee. I cross my legs and watch him.
Mick fidgets, and Mick never fidgets. I take all the blame.
“I owe you an apology,” I say.
“For what?”
“I kind of…got a little freaked out last night. I’m sorry. We had an amazing experience and then I went and ruined it. And I’m so sorry.”
His eyes finally meet mine. “Why do you think it was ruined?”
My cheeks get hot. “I climbed on your lap, and then I didn’t move when…you know. And then you…did the… And I got scared and went inside my own head. You said I get in my own way, and I definitely did last night.” I shake my head. “Anyway, I’m sorry. So sorry.”
Mick clears his throat. “First of all, yes, you climbed on my lap and I loved every second of it. I came inside you because I felt like it was okay in that moment. I felt like no matter what happened, we would be okay, because you were going to be mine and I was going to be yours.”
“But I didn’t give you a choice.”
He scoffs. “I could have moved you if I had wanted to. You’re light as a feather. I could have pulled my dick out. No problem. So, don’t assume you made me do anything I didn’t want to do.”
“So…you did…want to…”
“I wanted to come inside you, yes. I didn’t want to pull out.”
“Oh.” I play with a loose thread on the blanket that’s covering the bed. My heart zings in my chest. He wants permanence.
“Then I realized when we were done that I made a mistake.”
My heart stalls. “What?”
“It was the wrong thing to do. Wrong time. Wrong place. It never should have happened. I realized that. And I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what, exactly?”
“I’m sorry for trying to make it into more than you want it to be.”
It’s my everything. “What are you talking about?”
“Wren,” he says, finally frustrated with me. “My God, Wren, you weren’t ready for a stupid thing like that. And I’m not sure you’ll ever be ready.” He bangs his fist against the wall and groans.
I think I am ready. I thought I was ready. I got scared last night but now he’s the one acting all weird, being all distant. He says I’m the one that’s not ready, but in the light of day, maybe it’s Mick who isn’t ready for the possibilities. My heart sinks.
He picks up the small paper bag and holds it out to me, his hand shaking. “I got you this. I think it’s the right thing to do.”
I open it and find a box with a “morning after” pill in it. Women take them when someone makes a mistake and he or she needs to be sure there won’t be any repercussions. My eyes immediately fill with tears. “You want me to take this?” I whisper.
“I want you to be happy, Wren. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. And if taking that will make you happy, then that’s what I want you to do. I want you to have the option. I wanted to be damn sure I didn’t trap you into anything you didn’t want. So, take it. Take it if you want to. Take it if it’s all too much. Take it if you feel like we made a mistake. It’s your body, and I’d never try to tell you what to do with it.”
I kind of wanted it to be his body too. But he’s dumping this in my lap, and he’s making it my decision alone. He’s leaving me alone just like the others did. My parents. The baby that never took a breath. And now Mick. He’s pushing me away. He’s walking back. He’s not in this, not the way I am.
I nod. “Okay.”
“So, you’re going to take it?” he asks. He stares into my eyes, his gaze hard and unyielding.
“I have, what, forty-eight hours?” I pretend to read it, but the words just swim across the box.
“Something like that,” he mutters. “I’m going to go take a walk.”
“But you just got back—”