I fisted my hands in my hair. "Oh, babe. No. You can't do that to me. Don't make me think about you in multiple situations where I can only assume the worst."
Jory's lips pulled down into a sharp frown. "What do you mean? What are you assuming?"
Sensing Claude was lurking over my shoulder, I stepped inside Jory's room and shut the door behind me. Since there were only a few steps separating us, I leaned back against the door. I required that small bit of distance.
"I saw you hugging someone and then driving off with him." I crossed my arms over my chest. "What am I supposed to assume?"
Jory clapped a hand over his mouth. "Oh my god," he said through his fingers.
"That reaction doesn't help. Babe, I'm not strong when it comes to this. If you want out or—or whatever—I need you to say so. I can't watch you slip away from me, and I can't pretend I don't see it."
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before whirling around and snatching some papers off the desk. He crossed the short span between us to stand in front of me. "I wanted this to be a surprise," he said, his gaze not meeting mine. "I wanted to be the one to do something grand and wonderful. I wanted it to be me this time. I wanted to be the hero instead of the one in need of rescue. The one who figured everything out and came up with the big new plan for us. Instead, I've turned it into an actual disaster."
I studied the frames of his tortoiseshell glasses, his thick, dark brows, the slight pink of his cheeks. And I wondered what the hell he was talking about. "Jory, babe, I don't know what you're trying to say."
He pressed his hand to my forearm and held up the papers. "I'm trying to tell you I found an apartment. For us to live in. Together."
I blinked. That wasn't what I was expecting at all. "You're not banging the guy with the Tesla?"
He reared back, his eyes wide. "Tom? No! Not only would I not do that but his fiancé would literally and truly dismember me."
I snapped my head up as his words struck me—and knocked my noggin against the door. "Fuck, that hurt," I muttered. "Wait a second. That was Tom? When did he get a Tesla?"
"That is not the point," Jory cried. "The point is, you thought I was cheating on you! You should know I'd never do that to you."
"But even when I know, and I should know, I don't really know," I replied. "It doesn't make sense but it's the only truth I know. I'm learning my way out of this hole but I'm still in it, babe. I'm still scared as hell that I'm not enough to keep someone happy, that there's something wrong with me."
"There's not a single thing wrong with you." Jory pried my arms open and pressed himself against me, tucking his head under my chin the way I liked and gliding his hands over my back in light circles. "You are working through heavy shit, and I'm so proud of you for coming here and asking the hard questions. I know it must've been excruciating to do that and I'm sorry you felt like you had no other option. And I realize it has nothing to do with me, just like my anxiety has nothing to do with you. It's who we are and how we are, and there's nothing wrong with us."
I let him hold me as those words gradually seeped in, as I became aware of the tension between my shoulder blades and up my neck, as I recognized the cool hardwood beneath my feet. My mouth was dry and there was an unavoidable hint of artificial blueberry flavoring on my tongue. Occasional creaks and rustles from the other side of the door told me Claude was still listening in but that didn't matter. I folded my arms around Jory's body and held him close.
"You want us to live together?" I asked.
"Yeah, I do," he replied. "I thought we could get a little place and make it our own. I wanted to get everything set and then surprise you with all my good news but I bungled it instead."
"And Tom? He helped you find an apartment?"
"I texted him this morning, right after my meeting with Lauren." Jory glanced up at me, a slight smirk on his face. "You were right, by the way. Everything went well, and she offered me a contract for next year and the position of science chair. Plus, there's a—"
"Science chair? That is amazing, babe," I said, cupping his cheeks in my hands. "I love that for you."
"It's gracious of you to refrain from saying I told you so." He glanced at my mouth, and I leaned in because I couldn't ignore a request like that. But I stopped before our lips met. "It would be good if you kissed me now," he whispered.
"Would it?" I replied. "Do you deserve a kiss because you had a good day? Or because you want to feel better about the misery I experienced at watching you hug some dude today?"
"He's hardly some dude," Jory said under his breath.
"I've spent the past few hours thinking that. It's going to take more than a couple of minutes to unwind it all." I traced the line of his upper lip with my thumb. "I'm starting to think I should make you suffer a bit."
"Promise?" he replied.
I closed the distance between us and captured his mouth with everything I had, all the fear and the love and the old hurts. I tasted him—and that horrible fake blueberry from the yogurt I'd binged—and those hurts didn't ache so much anymore.
Love didn't heal wounds or erase histories. It didn't make any of the bad shit go away or prevent it from coming around again. But love made it easier to stand up
