“I want that,” he admitted, reaching for my hand again.
This time, I met him halfway, accepting that having him as a friend in my life was better than not having him at all, even if it sucked big fat donkey balls.
“After you left, I rang Dale, and he put me in touch with a therapist who helped me in Piersville. Then when I transferred my residency to here, the therapist put me in touch with someone they’d gone to college with who they were confident was the best person for cases like mine. I met with them the day after I moved here, and I go and see him once a week.”
“That’s great, Parker!” My happiness for him was genuine because I knew well that the right therapist was key to recovery and growth.
“I’ve been discussing you with him, and six weeks ago we began working on me opening up to you and what I wanted as a result of it. Ari, I’m not going to say that I’m fixed, I’m too fucked up for that, but I am saying I want to start over with you.” When I just looked at him blankly, unwilling to react and have him tell me I’d misunderstood, he continued, “I want there to be an us, and I’ve wanted that for a long time. There may be moments when I retreat or struggle with a development, that’s why you need to know as much as I can tell you.”
“You want there to be an us?”
“Desperately,” he replied, not even taking a second to think it over.
“As in, an us us?”
“Yes.”
“A relationship between you and me?”
This time, his lips twitched at my question. “Absolutely.”
Sitting back heavily, I stared at the wall, trying to get my head around it.
Letting me take a moment, he pulled me into his side and rested his chin on top of my head. “What are you thinking, Ari?”
“I’m thinking I’ve fallen into an alternate universe,” I mumbled, still staring blindly at the white wall as his chest jostled me when he laughed.
Reaching down, he linked his fingers between mine on the hand closest to him.
“What do you think, baby? Do you want to be with me, too?”
This time it was me who didn’t need to think about my answer. “Absolutely.”
“Thank Christ,” he whispered, burying his nose into my hair and inhaling deeply. “I’ve missed that scent. I could smell you on my pillow for weeks. Going back to therapy after what’d happened was hard, but the scent kept me grounded.”
Smiling, I admitted, “I stole your t-shirt off the floor.”
This time when he laughed, it was loud and shook my head. “Was it the AC/DC one?”
Picturing the t-shirt under my pillow, I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Lies! I knew exactly what t-shirt it was.
Leaning away from him slightly so I could see his face, I asked what I figured to be the most important question. “Are you ready to take this step? I’ll understand if you need more time.”
I was waiting for him to tense up or show some sort of indication that he was pushing himself to do this before he was ready, but he remained calm and relaxed. “I wouldn’t even be mentioning that part of our conversation if I wasn’t. The first step was getting therapy to heal slightly, and then I focused on the goal of being able to be the man you deserve. I’ve set myself goals and targets from day one, baby, and after tonight, I’ll have new ones to achieve.”
“Parker, you’re already the man I deserve, but you have to be the man you deserve to be.”
“Which is what the overall goal is. If I set myself targets, then I can combine them into one big result. My therapist said that the point isn’t to pretend the trauma never happened, it doesn’t work that way. It’s to be able to conquer it so you can live your life with it as part of your past, without it conquering you.”
I think I liked his therapist.
So, taking a deep breath in and growing a pair of lady balls, I took the bull by the horns.
“Let’s do this.”
Leaning in until his lips were right next to my ear, he whispered, “Keep tomorrow night free. I’m taking you on a date.”SixParkerWhen I’d told Ari I was taking her out tonight, I knew she’d be wondering if I’d show up or if I’d have a change of heart after last night. A relationship between two people who had such different issues might seem like a bad idea to some people, but not to me.
I didn’t want to break her, I wanted to become complete with her. I wasn’t scared at all that we’d have problems. She was pretty much the only woman in the world who could help me put my past behind me while I helped her put hers behind her, too. It was funny—it a non-funny way—regardless what I’d gone through, her well-being was more important than my own. I wanted to give her all of me, the complete and healed version I knew I could be. How was that for motivation?