It Started with a Kiss

“Would you mind if I buy it?” she asks.

I’d just started on the fly of my jeans when I stop. With a smile, my shoulders suddenly don’t feel so heavy. I walk into the room again to see her resting back on her elbows with her knees bent and feet propped on the mattress. Her skirt has slid down her thighs, exposing the smallest touch of white gracing her skin. My gaze travels higher not because she’s not sexy or doesn’t awaken parts of my body by the mere sight of her. No, it’s that she lies there like she should be a permanent part of this space.

My heart thumps heavy in my chest. I gather my thoughts back together, and reply, “You don’t have to.”

“I want to. It will be a gift.” She grins like she’s keeping something from me, something good. “The listings for my bags all closed today. They were scooped up immediately, but I guess the sale site holds the money over a certain number of days until it clears. It’s like payday. The ten bags have sold for just under six figures.”

“That’s amazing money.”

“They were worth double, but I treated them like properties. I kept them lower in hopes of selling. At the higher price, I’d lose most buyers. And most buyers at that level would buy their bags new from the store.” She falls back on the bed, her arms going wide along with her grin. “It was a strategy.”

“It worked.” I take off my jeans and lie next to her. Turning toward her, I add, “I’m proud of you.”

She rolls onto her side with her hand tucked under her cheek. Her eyes are glistening despite the smile that tussles to stay in place. Reaching over, she rests her hand on my chest, and whispers, “I told my mom goodbye. For now. That it was best if we didn’t see each other again until we’re in a better place.”

Covering her hand with mine, I say, “That must have been hard.”

“Not as hard as it should have been. I’m in too good of a place right now to keep harboring those negative feelings.” She sighs and focuses on our hands being together.

She sounds so strong, but that had to be disappointing. She went tonight to work through their issues, and now she’s walked away completely. She’s brave or putting on a face of indifference. I’m not sure either will serve her well in the weeks to come. But maybe this is a good thing. Maybe this will bring closure. We can only hope it turns out that well.

“Long story, but she always judged—my looks, my clothes, my achievements. I was never enough. But I found I was doing that to her. Sitting across the table from her and Paolo, judging her hair and the way she looked at me. I was mentally picking her apart to feel better in her company. It wasn’t working.” Her gaze slides up to mine again. “I don’t want to be that person anymore. I don’t want to be like her.”

Moving closer, she drapes her leg over mine. “Thank you for making me understand what acceptance feels like for the first time.” A light laugh trickles through her and escapes. “And I know Tealey and Cammie have always cared about me. So I’m not saying any of this to take away from their friendship.” Snuggling as close as she can, she kisses my chest, and continues, “I want to say this, so you know the impact you’ve made on me. Thank you, Jackson.”

There’s no great production put on. We’re just two people with our own troubles, finding comfort in each other. I catch her watching me when we’re brushing our teeth, a glimpse of a smile that looks like she has a secret when she’s winding her hair on top of her head for the night. While I lie in bed with my worries escalating, I watch her in the cracked open door as she puts lotion on her legs.

While these mundane things may have been a routine she developed over the years, it’s new for us. Having her here for things like this—early morning talks and getting ready for the day together—these small things bring a sense of peace, safety, and love. This is our routine. Something we created together.

This means walls have been broken down, and her heart, once buried within a suit of armor, is opening to me.

She switches off the light and climbs in bed next to me. Slipping across the king-sized mattress, she kisses me and then rolls over to face away from me. I kiss her shoulder and the back of her neck, the gentle slope that leads to her shoulder. “I love you,” I whisper against her skin and then wrap around her.

Her hand covers mine this time, and she whispers, “I love you.”