Muscles tense beneath my touch, knocking a sense of guilt closer to my soul.
The bond between Ambrose and me is still here. I know my words hurt him. I know another man being close to me hurts him. The very first tear that shone in his eyes when he met Shane, flashes in my mind.
The guilt turns me in on myself. I should never have dated Shane just because Mom thought he was a nice guy. But I did, and I told him only this morning that we could see how things go. So, I shouldn’t be in here with Ambrose.
Ambrose, whose hand moves again, fingers brushing parts of me that the cami doesn’t cover. I guide him away, too aware of how close he is to my bag for life.
But goosebumps still rise on my arms.
Two fingers tip my chin up, and I steel myself to the fact that my pain transmits to Ambrose without me saying anything.
His lips move again,If you don’t want him here, he can leave, and you can have a peaceful night.
There’s hope in his eyes, but it’s overpowered by sadness when I shake my head.
There’s a desperation inside him, yearning to see me smile now that his words failed to do it. Lifting my lips with two fingers, he has me mirroring his permanent expression, and he smiles back.
He’s so handsome under the pain and bad memories thatI yearn to see his naked face.
Old needs, wants, and desires remind me of all my teenage dreams, and that’s why my smile falters on my face as soon as he removes his hand.
I clutch him that bit tighter, my pink gelled nails digging into his golden skin, and now, wet and cold and still trembling against him, I almost beg, “Will you stay in here for a minute?Just one minute, where it’s just us in a closed-off room, away from the world. Just like old times.”
One minute where I can pretend you’re still mine. One minute where we won’t be judged for misunderstood feelings, and I’ll be safe forever.
The minute is no more than mere seconds.
I jump in Ambrose’s hold to the sound of Shane’s voice and him pounding on the door.
“Dollancie, are you in there? Can I come in?”
“Don’t come in!” I snap, fear in my voice that brings out a challenge in Ambrose’s eyes.
“I’m changing my...you know.” The bag for life that Ambrose knows nothing about.
“Right. I thought you took the dog in there?”
“I did. She rarely leaves my side.”
“Okay. Come into the den. We’ll watch a movie before bed if you want.”
“Okay.” I nod, tears running down my jaw.
That was too close.
I push back from Ambrose, but his grip tightens around me.
Don’t go, he mouths, and it’s almost painful for me to see such a plea up close.
“I have to go. I have to.”
The world will never understand what we are, and we need normality.
Another question, no doubt,Why? is kept inside as his lips purse.
Reluctantly, after a moment passes, his hands drop to his side, and he nods. His lips stay tight as he steps back.The look on his face makes him look like our father, if not for their different skin tones.
Tracing scars with my eyes before my fingers, I let myself dream of the person below them for just a minute.
