After the tub filled, I took my sweet time lowering myself into the smooth porcelain and soothing hot water. My injuries stung, but it was heavenly after I settled in. I lay my head back and just went still. Got to enjoy the little things in life.
My thoughts started to drift as I lay there, making sure not to let the water hit my chest wound. How long would Michael stay with me? Is this how cohabitation worked—a constant exchange of banter between two people? Or was our situation unique? Hell if I knew. The last relationship I’d been in ended in tatters. We’d never even made it to the moving-in stage. How did people do this on a regular or even permanent basis? Then again, who was I to complain? I had an archangel at my beck and call. You’d think I would be more grateful. Then again, attention from anyone, especially men, made me defensive. Stupid, but true.
I drained the tub and climbed out, drying off slowly on account of my stiff limbs. The underwear took an annoying amount of time to put on, but I managed. Finally, I wrapped myself in a thick navy robe and called for Michael.
Once more, I sat on the edge of the tub, staring at the opposite wall as Michael sat in a chair he’d gotten from the kitchen and redressed my chest. I kept the robe bunched around my waist, hiding everything at navel level and lower. He hadn’t been this close to me before we’d known each other so I started noticing little things about him, like how he smelled. His scent was a mix of Old Spice deodorant and some sort of sweet aftershave. Unlike Gabriel or Raphael, his fingertips were rough from playing the guitar. I’d never noticed how large his hands were up until now.
“Something on your mind?”
I glanced at Michael. “What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s been five minutes and you haven’t insulted me yet. I’m getting worried.” His green eyes sparkled with amusement.
I scowled. “It’s not all about you, y’know.”
He chuckled. “My fault. Still, what’s on your mind?”
I searched for something to say because it wouldn’t be appropriate to admit I’d been thinking about the way he smelled or how big his hands were. “Not much. I was just thinking how long it’s been since I’ve had someone around all the time.”
“No boyfriend?”
I winced. “Once. Terrell Molding. It…ended badly.”
“What happened?”
“We had been dating before the incident with Mr. N. As you can imagine, things got rough afterward. I knew I couldn’t tell him what I’d seen because he wouldn’t believe me, so I pushed him away.”
“That must have been hard for you.” His voice was soft with sympathy rather than pity. A small part of me felt relieved by that.
I shrugged and then winced because it still hurt. Gotta stop doing that. “I got over it. It wouldn’t have worked out in the long run anyway.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He wanted the American dream: a beach house in Hawaii, a white picket fence, two kids, and a dog. Despite everything around him, he still held on to the illusion that people are good and life is sweet. We were from two completely different worlds.”
Michael was silent. “I don’t think that’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s still the same world, but you two just saw it differently.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“Now that you’ve gotten your life back, will you try to make things work with him?”
That caught me off-guard. “W-Well, I didn’t really consider it, no.”
“Why not?”
“Who are you? Dr. Phil?”
“Jordan, for once, just answer the question.”
“I…I never felt like I was good enough for him, alright? He was on track to become a pediatrician and he came from a large, successful family. I couldn’t stand the thought of going home to his family in California with my background.”
“Background?”
“I already told you what happened to my parents. I didn’t even go to college. His whole family comes from a prestigious line of African descent and I’m mixed. They weren’t very happy with that.”
“Why should they matter at all if you loved the guy?”
“No one ever said I loved him.” My voice was small and defensive when I spoke. I hated that. He didn’t speak at first—just finished the last bit of my bandages and tugged my robe closed.
I shook my head. “I guess that’s a pretty stupid reason for not trying, hm?”
“Want to know what I really think?”
“Knock yourself out,” I said, avoiding eye contact because it made me feel too vulnerable.
Michael leaned forward in his chair and brushed a lock of hair behind my ear to catch my attention. “I think you’re way harder on yourself than other people are, and you shouldn’t be because there’s nothing wrong with you that’s beyond saving.”
Before I could reply, he stood up and offered me his hand. “Now come on. Your food’s getting cold.”
Chapter 10
“You ready?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
“Did I stutter?”