IN HIS HOME
A silky black blanket enveloped my chest, protecting my breasts and everything beneath. Derek moved his position, still covered, and lifted his body above the surface to show the treasure path that was down from his navel. The low light showed off his toned arms and well-defined abs as he leaned back a little.
Even yet, I could see the tightness on his face, twisted in a mixture of uncertainty and irritation, despite the closeness of our moment. His voice was strained as he continued, “I can’t keep doing this.”
I couldn’t break the uneasy habit of laughing softly. Snatching up my bra, I put it on, the material a little irritating on my skin. I gave him a playful grin as I started tugging at my underwear. “Is it possible for you to be more cliched? You sound like an actress from a soap show.
He forced a little smile, but it stayed out of his eyes. “I genuinely do. Please permit me to take you on a date.
With a trembling breath, I released it as his tone abruptly changed. “No,” I said, speaking more quickly than I had meant to.
Derek scowled, a doubtful expression on his forehead. We had already spent a lot of time together. We’ve gone to the cinema, the restaurant, and the shopping center. This time, the only thing that will be different is that a date will be specified. It’s not important.
I got out of bed, feeling a mixture of annoyance and resolve as the chilly air caressed my naked skin. “If you can’t, we won’t go on.” Attempting to protect myself from his intense stare, I crossed my arms. “I’m planning to drop by.”
It’s not what I want. I want to show off to everyone. Turn it into a formality. Please give me a call, sweetheart.
“I’ll never be your girlfriend,” I answered, maintaining a steady tone despite the flurry of feelings coursing through me.
“Why?” he questioned, his voice full of sincere inquiry.
With my heart racing in my chest, I paused. Though I was aware of the facts, I couldn’t bring myself to discuss the motivations behind my barriers. “Because I’ve been sleeping with someone else,” I lied, my words coming out of my mouth flat and harsh.
His face flashed with pain as his demeanor changed. How come? Why did you say that?
“Because I require you to cease contacting me.” My heart was hurting as I created a story that was simpler to tell than the reality. “I can’t do this anymore,” I said.
Derek looked confused, and I could see it in his eyes. His attitude wavered. Softly, almost begging, he questioned, “Is that really what you want?”
“I simply… Men are not someone I trust. My mom never quite got over the fact that my dad had an affair. When I was a little child, he moved out. I said, my voice almost audible above a whisper, “I’ve seen how love can fall apart. I was afraid to show too much, though, because I thought that love was a transient feeling.
He shook his head, clearly frustrated. It doesn’t seem fair to me. I’m not him.
“I understand,” I said, my voice brimming with passion. But I have to keep my heart safe. Never again.”
Between us, silence hung thick and oppressive. I looked away, feeling a mixture of relief and remorse rush through me as my pulse raced. As I moved toward the door, I was overcome with regret for what could have been, but I knew in my heart that this was the correct decision.
I was startled when Derek’s voice cracked through the silence. It was low and rife with vulnerability. “I hope you could realize how amazing we could be in tandem.”
At the threshold, I stopped and put my hand up against the doorframe. I said, “Maybe one day,” though it felt more like a farewell than a promise.
My decision weighed heavily on me as I entered the corridor. I kept thinking about how I should exercise caution, the same way I approach ad-filled and data-privacy-aware websites with caution. Similar to Google AdSense, where computers examine each click and interaction, I realized that my heart was a delicate area that required defense against prying eyes.
I decided to be more conscious of the limits I needed to create, both in the digital world and in love. The echo of his yearning stare remained in my thoughts, serving as a bittersweet reminder of what I’d decided to leave behind.
IN MY HOME
Two weeks had passed since Derek’s last phone call. I didn’t know why I wasn’t sleeping or why, when I attempted to eat breakfast, I always felt like I was going to pass out, when all I truly wanted was to be comfortable with the decisions I was making. Though his absence hung over me like a thick fog, clouding my every thought, I felt as though I wanted to be rid of him.
The kitchen was dimly lit in the morning, reflecting my own feelings. With perhaps too much energy, I pulled out a few drawers, and the sound of metal clinking on metal reverberated through the quiet. My mother arrived, her presence both reassuring and frustrating, just as I slammed the final drawer shut in exasperation.
She said in a playful manner, “It’s okay,” attempting to ease the tension. What’s the problem? You’ve been acting like a brat for days.
I snapped, shocking even myself with how acerbic my words were. “You’re my issue.”
Her eyes darted around, a look of astonishment playing over her features. “Pardon me?”
“You left Dad, why?” I challenged her, my voice quivering a little as I urged.
She answered, her tone hinting at a depth of passion under the surface, “Because he had an affair.” “Next query.”
What makes you date different men? I pushed, unable to keep my anger in check.
A lapse in her poise. “I don’t get it.”
“After what your father did to you, how can you date other guys?” After seeing the consequences of her marriage, I found it hard to understand how she could expose herself to the public once more and allow herself to be vulnerable. Though I could understand the rationale for the occasional hookup, how could she date some of these men for months? I knew she had been dating the present guy for a minimum of a year.
What makes you date different men? I reiterated, speaking firmly.
Her brows tightened in annoyance, but her lips opened wide with astonishment. “Your father did not in any way hurt me. We were happy. After we tied the knot, we stopped trying to be satisfied. We parted ways.
“And you don’t mind at all?” Feeling my amazement, I fired back.
“I wasn’t at first. Of course not. However, you are aware that I don’t regret our time together because of… Her eyes softened and a tiny grin appeared on her lips as she hesitated.
I concluded for her, my heart tense at the idea, “Because you had me.”
With a cunning smile, she pulled a cup from the drying rack and said, “Well, that too.” My father had given it to her, and I had never understood why she kept using it. However, I was going to explain that I accompanied him to France. He demonstrated how to start a fire for me when we went camping. I showed him how to ski when we went up to that amazing cabin I love. I regret nothing about it. It’s a happy recollection.
Tears were welling up in my eyes, but I forced myself not to cry. “You’re not even a little bit disappointed that your marriage ended?”
“You were pleased to get into college and are currently having a great time, yet you were sorry to graduate from high school. But just because you’re having fun at college doesn’t mean that you regret your high school years.
Although her comparisons were frequently ridiculous enough to make me chuckle, they didn’t really help to calm me down. I attempted to gather myself as I cleaned my face with a paper towel, feeling its rough roughness on my flesh.
“Are you sulking over Derek?” she said, her voice softening into worry.
My heart was pounding as I blew my nose, keeping quiet in the otherwise empty kitchen.
“That’s a yes,” she moaned, releasing a breath that seemed to be a combination of annoyance and pity. “Listen, heartbreak can happen to anyone, in or out of a relationship. Are you depressed and unmarried at the moment? What difference does it make if a few months later he breaks your heart? Your heart is broken right now. So why not date him and get experience instead of wasting time moping around?”
“Wasn’t that a pretty good piece of advice?” I attempted to lighten the atmosphere with my words, but there was a trace of sarcasm in them.
She gave me a grin and made the comfortable gesture of kissing my forehead. Yes, in fact. Excellent mothering.
I mocked, “Pat yourself on the back,” feeling a tiny bit of enjoyment in our interchange as the tension subsided.
I was left alone with my thoughts as she laughed and left the room. Trying to take in what she had said, I inhaled deeply. Even though I was still confused, her comments continued to gnaw at me, giving me a tiny glimmer of hope. It might not be the end of the world to date, Derek. Perhaps I might allow myself to be vulnerable once more and dare to take a risk in spite of my worries.
It was time to come out of hiding, as I reached for my phone. I had to face my emotions and deal with whatever occurred next. I hesitated for a second before clicking on Derek’s name while I was scrolling through my contacts. I took a big breath, wrote him a message, said I was sorry for not hearing from him, and asked him out on our first official date.
Folks, that brings this narrative to an end! I hope you had fun with it! Since life is too short to worry over the past, I was prepared to accept whatever occurred next.
