He did as I asked and looked at me, crossing and uncrossing his arms, and then finally leaning back and resting on his forearms.
“We have to talk.” Those dreaded words I’d been avoiding spilled out of my mouth.
He kicked off his shoes and lay on his stomach next to me, the scent of his cologne strong, and my stomach tumbled.
“Thank you. For this.” I knew what I wanted to say, but I struggled with vulnerability and rejection.
A few moments passed, and tension ballooned in the large room. I quickly scrambled to a sitting position and grabbed his hands. “I’m sorry.” Why was that always so hard to say?
“For what?”
Was he really going to make me spell it out for him? “For being afraid of the future. For not trusting you or trusting my feelings. I told you a little already, but I don’t have what you have. My parents aren’t in love. They don’t love each other…they don’t even talk. My dad works while my mom survives on pain medication for non-existent ailments. He broke her and she wasn’t strong enough to fight for me or herself. They never emulated healthy love, so I’m sorry that I’m so broken.”
His round eyes and persistent attention on me made me squirm inside. He touched my icy hand and my muscles twitched, but I relaxed them and let his warmth pass through me. “I’m sorry you had to experience that.”
I waved him away with my other hand, pretending it was no big deal. “I wanted you to know why I am the way I am. If I’m honest with myself, I’ve never had a boyfriend before that I imagined myself with long term. It was like the risk of turning into my mother and finding a man like my father was too great, so I avoided intimacy, and focused on external things like school. It was a survival tactic to protect my heart.”
He rubbed my hands with his large, rough fingers, and I wanted to push him away for feeling sorry for me, but I couldn’t.
“I can’t commit to anything beyond Galway. I can try, but I can’t promise anything and I don’t want to feel responsible for hurting you. I care about you, but you need to proceed with caution. My ability to love and fall in love is defective.” My hardened voice scared me, and the words I spoke and heard in my ears made me hate myself.
The intense mood of the room wrapped its spiny arms around me, and I needed to get out and breathe again, before my fear crushed me into smithereens.
“I’m sorry. I have to get outside.” I hurried from the bed. “I need to clear my head.” I kissed him on the lips and grabbed my jacket. “I promise I’ll be back. I’ll be fine.” I motioned to the space around us and grabbed one of the two keys, sitting on the side table. I ran over and gave him another kiss, his eyes blinking with confusion.
He scratched his head and didn’t look at me. “I’ll be right here.” He looked up at the underside of the canopy with his arms folded behind his head.
“I promise, Jaime, I just need five minutes.”
I ran out of the room, down the hallway, out the main lobby and into the fresh air, where a barrage of tears finally broke and freed me from my shame.
A few hours later, I settled in front of the fire in the hotel lobby and stared into the flames. After walking the grounds until I couldn’t feel my fingertips or toes, I removed my coat and gloves, and warmed under the heat until my skin melted.
Every extreme sensation reminded me I was alive. The man behind the concierge desk offered me a drink, and I refused, trying to maximize the intensity of the temperature hitting my body. My tears had run dry, and it left me an empty shell.
It had been five hours since we’d arrived and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. My tired body didn’t want to move, but my brain forced my legs to take one step and then another as I walked back to our room.
Why am I so afraid? I thought back to my relationship with Jaime and how annoyed I had felt on the airplane, followed by shock when he showed up in my bedroom. My heart had softened when he took care of my leg, and my vulnerability grew when he welcomed me into his life. And then I fell in love. I swallowed hard, the ball of spit getting stuck. Damn it. I’ve fallen in love.
My legs shook and my heart rate quickened. What if he’s gone? I took the elevator to the second floor and ran down the hallway, passing the occasional guests and reached into my pocket. Standing at our door, I grabbed for the key, but the only items I found were my gloves. No! I sped up the search, ripping through every pocket on my body, but the key was gone. It must have fallen downstairs when I pulled off my gloves.
I banged on the door, but it never opened. Checking the number, I couldn’t remember if this was even our room. Without a key and without the room number, everything looked the same. Am I even on the right floor? Second floor, I know Jaime said second floor. I spun in circles, searching for a landmark that would confirm that I was indeed in the right place.
My legs pumped and arms flailed as I ran back downstairs. Nestled under the couch was the missing ornate, metal key, and I grabbed it before racing back upstairs to the second floor. Placing it in the lock, nothing happened. It didn’t budge. Tempted to holler his name down the long hallway, I ran back downstairs for help.
The same person who had offered me a drink earlier, stood behind the desk. Seeing me out of breath, he handed me an empty plastic cup and pointed to the water pitcher on the table. “Water?”
“No thanks, I need my room number, and do you have a master key?”
He looked up Jaime’s name on the computer and walked around the counter. “Follow me.”
He crept slowly along the hallway like a turtle, leading the way. I trailed behind him, motioning with my hands for him to speed up. I needed to see if Jaime was still here and tell him what was in my heart before it was too late. Everything moved in slow motion as the man stopped every few feet to chat with housekeeping, adjust the ‘Do Not Disturb’ signs on random doors, and pick up trash left in the hallway.
My tightly wound muscles threatened to break at any moment.
“Here you go,” he said, pausing outside a door and twisting the key in the lock. “Room two-eighteen.”
“Two-eighteen?” I asked. “But we’re on the third floor.”
