Harlow closed her eyes. “I can’t picture you whipped.”
“Try harder,” I said, squeezing her hand. “Imagine me wearing one of those grilling aprons and mom jeans. Yeah, I’d make one hell of a domestic goddess.”
Laughing, Harlow opened her eyes. “Would you be a stay at home dad while your wife worked?”
“Sure, why not? I’ve seen more horrifying things than anything a baby can put in a diaper.”
Based on Harlow's smile, she was thinking about her and me and baby made three. Women always thought about that stuff and I was handing her the ammunition to dream.
“Samantha and I were waiting until marriage. That might sound like madness, but I never wanted to touch her like I want to touch you.”
Harlow’s expression shifted ever so slightly. “We’re not so different. Our first sexual experiences were ugly, so we can't imagine it being any different. What happens on your birthday though?”
Anger boiling up inside me at remembering, I nodded. “I hire an escort and fuck like a mean bastard. I still hate being that kind of man, but the girl gets paid and knows what'll happen. With you, I can learn to be different. I'm already different in just the last few days. That’s why I'll wait for you.”
Harlow glanced around the restaurant then back at me. “I wish I was strong the way you are.”
“You will be. Give it time.”
“Will I be smart like you too?” she said, clearly teasing me. “Wise and patient.”
Leaning forward, I held her gaze. “With me, you can be any damn thing you want.”
“But not without you?”
“No. It’s a package deal.”
Harlow grinned. “Then it’s not much of a choice, is it?”
“No, it really isn’t,” I said, losing my grin. “I don’t know if it’s ever been much of a choice with you. Not even when I thought I was completely in control.”
Harlow nodded. “I’ve done things that make no sense, but I do them because it’s you.”
“I never really believed I'd find a woman able to handle my degree of fucked up. That was before you attacked me in the woods. Now a lot of things seem possible.”
Grinning, Harlow sat back in her chair. “Man, I really thought I was going to kick your ass that day. Seems so stupid now, but the whole world feels different since then.”
“We’re messed up, Harlow,” I said, caressing her cheek. “In here and here,” I added, pressing her hand against my head and chest. “We’re twisted, but unbroken. We’re still standing and fighting. There’s no reason we can’t make this thing between us work. People far more fucked up than us have found happiness. I’ve seen them and I always figured they were fooling themselves. I was so damn jaded before you, but I need to dream now.”
“What if we crash and burn?”
“At least we’ll know. Doing this takes more courage than kicking someone’s ass in a fight. If we fail, it’ll hurt a hell of a lot more too. We have to try though or the rest of our lives will be ruined with wondering what if.”
Harlow didn’t immediately agree. Even wanting to hate her for not jumping into the unknown with me, I understood her hesitancy. She feared a broken heart more than a life alone. Harlow had family and friends. She might say goodbye to me without regretting the choice for a long time.
I knew though. Without Harlow, I would never leave this life of death. If she turned her back on me, no other woman could mend my heart. The darkness I struggled against would finally overwhelm me. Harlow was my only path to happiness.
Chapter Twenty Nine ~ Harlow
Saint remained in an optimistic mood through dinner. He told me his favorite movie was Armageddon, yet he felt no shame in loving a crappy movie. He was allergic to chocolate, but never had much of a sweet tooth. He liked salty foods better. Saint asked me easy questions about food and movies. Nothing I might hesitate answering. Nothing that might lead me to asking questions he couldn’t answer.
Yet by dessert, Saint was tense. He tapped his fingers a lot and glanced around as if we were under threat. I wanted to soothe him, but I didn’t know how to promise anything without lying. Ellsberg was my home and it could never be his.
Back at the apartment, we watched TV with the distance of the couch between us. With such an oppressive silence, we were having our first fight. Would this argument also be our last?
“I’m sorry,” I said, resting in bed later.
Saint rolled on his side, facing away from me. “Life does what it does while we make the best of it.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Neither do I, but it sounds good. Let’s get some sleep.”
“Okay,” I whispered, staring at his back.