“I do. I absolutely feel the same way about you. I’ve tried so hard to fight against falling so hard for you, to hold on to my convictions against remotely related to love. But I can’t control these feelings any more than I can control the tide. When we’re together, I can barely hold back from showing and telling you how much I adore you already. I don’t want to hide it anymore, but I don’t want you to freak out and run from me. Whether you believe it, you deserve to feel loved, appreciated, and needed. If you’ll give me a chance, you’ll finally believe you’re worthy of being loved.”
Now I feel especially vulnerable after dumping all my feelings onto his lap. In my mind, I calculate roughly how far we are from shore and whether I can make it back if I jump in the water right now. I asked him not to run, but I’m the one about to have a panic attack because I’ve allowed this to happen in the first place. I swore off men more than seven years ago, only venturing out when Tracy convinced me with strong coercion to go on a blind date.
“You’ll be the one who runs, Daisy. But I’m not going anywhere. Whatever we have to do to make this last when we get home, I’m game.” He takes my hands in his, staring at them in silence for what feels like forever. When he speaks again, his voice is so low I can barely hear it over the waves gently breaking. “How could you possibly know I don’t feel worthy of being loved?”
“Because I don’t feel like I am either and my spirit felt it in yours. Maybe two damaged people can find a way to heal each other. If they can find a way to trust each other.”
“You don’t know how fucked up I really am. What if you decide you can’t deal with my bullshit and you want to take off, get as far away from me as possible?”
“Your bullshit can’t be any worse than mine, Rod. What if we both tried a novel approach and trusted each other?”
“I’m willing to try it.” He doesn’t verbalize the question, but I see it in his eyes.
“Me, too.”
With a reassuring squeeze to his hands, I lean over to kiss his cheek. He turns his face at the last second, pressing his lips against mine. He moves his hands to my face, cupping my cheeks with tenderness and affection. His caress isn’t as demanding or heated as usual. It’s full of love, warmth, and openness. It’s his way of showing his vulnerable side, using a method that makes him feel safe. I return the sentiment in every way—my hands covering his face, letting him take control, and knowing he wouldn’t take advantage of his power over me.
We seal our agreement with a kiss that’s filled with much more than pleasure and desire. It’s a guarantee we’re both committed to seeing this through, past the end of our vacation and back into the world awaiting us. It’s an assurance we recognize our collective painful past so we can move forward with a promising future. It’s a verbal contract assuring the other understanding and patience when working through the ghosts that are sure to reappear from time to time.
In perfect sync, we stop, but hold the connection for a minute longer. Our foreheads remain pressed together, and his eyes are closed, but the bliss on his face fills my heart with so much hope and longing for a genuine relationship. For the first time since that awful night in my past I’ve worked so hard to forget, I’m ready to move forward. I want to give this man my full trust, my heart, and my soul.
“I don’t know how you did it, but you broke through the wall of ice I’ve built around my heart. You saw through the disguise I wear every day and gave me your love despite it. You should’ve run away as fast and as far as you could, Daisy. But it’s too late now, because I’ll be damned if I let you go … and I mean that literally. I’ll be damned to a life of eternal hell if I lose you now.”
He inhales a ragged breath, possibly regretting his last admission.
“No pressure, though.” His smile breaks free, and it’s the most carefree one I’ve seen on his face yet.
“There’s my Hot Rod, back again.” We chuckle together, dispelling the tension before I respond with all the sincerity I possess. “Hearing you say that doesn’t make me feel pressured, Rod. It makes me feel even more connected to you than I already did. I’ve felt bound to you in a way that’s hard to explain since the moment I first saw you. Now, I’m not fighting that bond anymore.”
“You’re all I want, Daisy.”
My heart is bursting with overwhelming feelings, but focusing on the handsome face of the man I love brings everything into perspective.
“Then you have all you want, for as long as you want it.”
“How do you know exactly what I need to hear without me telling you?”
He wraps his arms around me, pulling me onto his lap and holding me as close to him as our lifejackets will allow. To others, we probably look silly. But this is as real as it gets, and I wouldn’t change a single thing. His question was rhetorical, uttered in the moment, but it reveals more about his psyche than he realizes. I should know. I’ve had enough therapy sessions of my own to be recognized as an honorary therapist.
“We still have a few hours
