Each step I took down the hall toward Royal’s bedroom caused my body to squirm. His house was quaint and had a lot of character to it. Royal’s house felt like a home. It was so different than the house I grew up in. My house may have been large and grand, but it was also cold and sterile. This place was small but it was lived in. It was warm and welcoming just like a home should be.
I couldn’t help but stop and stare at all the pictures of Royal covering the wall. His school photos hung proudly at every turn. It appeared that every stage of his life was hanging before me, and I couldn’t help but smile as I took in all those moments.
“You were so adorable,” I commented, running my fingers over the glass of one of the photo frames.
“Were? You act like I used to be adorable or something. I still am adorable.” That cocky grin I loved so much was back. I melted into his touch as he slipped his fingers between mine, pulling me away from the photos and further down the hall until we stopped at a door.
“So it’s not as clean as your room was back at my dad’s and it’s a bit smaller…” he muttered pushing the door open. My eyes took everything in all at once. I scoffed at him. I wasn’t a princess, not by a long shot, and his bedroom was perfect. It totally fit him.
I took in the large wooden bed placed in the center of the room. Against the far right wall was a dresser with a flat screen sitting on top of it, and a game console located right next to that. There was a door on the other side of the room in which I assumed was the closet.
“Shut up! I’m not going to judge you because of what your room looks like. It doesn’t matter what it looks like to me.” Royal’s scent filled the room, my body wanting to wrap itself in the smell. This was his zone, the place that he spent all of his time. The place where his thoughts lingered from his mind.
“I just know what you’re accustomed to and you aren’t going to find any of that shit here.” He scratched at the back of his head as he placed my bags on the floor. I could tell he wanted to talk but was waiting for me to speak first. Probably still wondering what the hell I was doing here.
“Why did you leave, and don’t tell me it had to do with my mom, because I know that part already. I want the real answer. The whole answer… Not some excuse.” I wasn’t leaving here until I got it.
He met my stare head on, a slew of emotions forming in his eyes.
“I wanted to be the best person I could be for you. Your mother was driving me insane, and I was certain if I was around her any longer I would snap and do something I would regret. I also hoped that if I left, she would get off your back and give you some room to breathe. I wanted to be there when you got out of the hospital but I couldn’t be. I needed all the distance I could get.” I bit at my bottom lip, trying to hide the tears that wanted to fall from my eyes. Distance? Distance was staying in the room down the hall from me, not flying clear across the United States.
“Is there someone else? I mean I’ll understand. I’m not clingy, and I swear I’ll leave. I just needed to know.” I hated how my voice sounded. It was weak. I was weak and stupid for even coming all the way out here. I don’t know what I was thinking just showing up. He obviously didn’t want to be near me. Maybe I was just compelled to believe that he could love me like no one else ever had.
“Fuck no! What the hell?” Royal roared, pouncing on me. His hand gripped my cheeks roughly as he pulled my face up into his, a murderous rage lingering.
“It’s only ever been you. I didn’t leave so that I could fuck someone else. I left because I needed to. I had so much hate for your mother that I was scared that I would do something that would end up separating us for the rest of our lives. Why is it still so hard for you to believe that you’re the only one that truly matters to me?”
His honesty caused me to tremble and my knees to go weak. I leaned into his touch. I’ve craved it so much, even if we were only separated for a matter of days. It felt like I needed him just to breathe.
“I thought it was me. Even after I read your note, and then when I found out you blocked my numbers I…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. There was a knot in my throat that refused to move. I couldn’t speak about it, because it made me feel too many things. Most of all vulnerable and na?ve.