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At least Kel has the decency to look chagrined. “Do you owe a lot? Do you need to borrow some money?” He takes a step toward me, like he’s going to hug me again, but I step out of reach.
“It’s in here.” I hold out the papers to Kel. He takes them and starts scanning the pages, his face blank. “And no. I don’t need to borrow money. Even if I did, I wouldn’t borrow money from you.”
Kel looks up at my words. “Why not?”
I can’t help laughing, not a very nice laugh, if I’m honest, but my emotions are all over the fucking place and I’ve given up trying to control them. “Why? Because we’ve been dating for all of a month. Because we can barely manage to communicate about the easy things, let alone the important stuff.”
“Maggie, if you need help, I’ll help.” Kel goes back to scanning the page. “It looks like it’s just a couple of hundred dollars.” He glances up at me.
“That’s not the point!” I finally explode, unable to contain my feelings any longer. “God, Kel. I like you. I really do. But I don’t know how to get you to talk to me. And I don’t know how to tell you shit. Which is kind of a new thing for me. I always have something to say. My mom used to say I could talk my way out of anything, but I don’t know how to talk to you.”
Kel stares at me as I flail my arms, ranting and incoherent. I’ve had too long to think and overthink everything about us. My uterus sends a sharp pain through me and I groan, doubling over.
“Shit. Babe, what’s wrong?” Kel is by my side in two long steps.
I rest my hands on my thighs. “Fine, I’m fine. Just cramps.” I take a deep breath and straighten. “It’s been a fucking day.”
Confusion and panic war on Kel’s face as I look up. His hands hover in the air, as if he can’t decide whether he should touch me or not. “What can I do?” he finally asks.
“Nothing. There’s nothing you can do. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I dragged you out here when there’s nothing you can do.” And with that, I break down crying again, arms wrapped around my aching abdomen. Why does Kel tie me up in knots like this? He makes me feel so safe, and yet at the same time it’s like I’m afraid to say everything I’m thinking. Would he want to stick around if he knew all the crazy going on in my head?
Maybe my cramps are so bad because I’ve been bottling up my usual verbal diarrhea, only letting out small amounts when I’m with Kel. My system is all backed up. Is my mental constipation manifesting in utero?
“Which is your room?”
“What?” I look up to find my nose right up against Kel’s shirt. Kel’s dirty and ripped shirt.
“Which is your bedroom? I’m going to carry you, but I’m a little, uh, sore, so I’d rather not make an unnecessary detour.”
“On the left, but why—” I swallow my question as Kel scoops me up in his arms. “Kel, put me down.”
Kel stops, mid-step, looking down at me with the same look he gives Olive. “Sprinkles, you’re in pain. I’m in pain. We need to talk. We’re going to take some ibuprofen, get comfortable, and say everything we need to say. From a horizontal position.”
I relax in his arms as he carries me to my bedroom. “That sounds terrifying. And delightful.”
“I’m full of contradictions. I have layers. Like an onion.”
I push my bedroom door open and he carries me inside, setting my legs down as we enter. “Did you just quote Shrek?’
Kel shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “Probably. Where’s the ibuprofen?”
I push against his shoulder. “You go get us some water from the kitchen, I’ll grab it.”
While he disappears to the kitchen, I sidestep to the bathroom to grab the bottle from the cabinet under the sink. Bottle in hand, I take a moment to center myself, trying to find some kind of equilibrium before we dive into a conversation that feels like it could make or break everything in my world in one go. Opening the bottle, I shake a handful of pills into my palm.
How did we get here? Things have gone from hot, to cold, to good, to bad, so fast I have whiplash. Everything about Kel screams comfort, yet every time I talk to him my insecurities roar so loudly that I fall into saying a whole lot of words that don’t mean a thing.
Kel slips into the bathroom behind me, two glasses of water in his hands. We each take a couple, Kel finishing off his water with a few large gulps. Now that I’m less panicked, I get a good look at him. “What happened to you? You look like you’ve been in a fight.” There’s a long scrape on his arm, his knuckles are red, and there are streaks of dirt on his shirt and jeans. Even his face is lined with dirt, like he washed it in a hurry.
“Nate.” Kel grunts before he flips on the tap to wash his hands and splash water on his face. “It’s a long story. That I will tell you in a minute.”
He follows me to the bedroom, taking the bottle of pills from me and setting it on the bedside table. With a groan, he sits on the edge of the bed, toeing his shoes off before laying down, patting the space beside him. “Come on, Sprinkles.”
I sink onto the bed, curling into Kel’s side as he opens up an arm for me. I can’t help my soft sigh as his arm pulls me close. For now, I don’t care how dirty his shirt is, I need the comfort of his arms.
“Can I start by telling you that whatever we have to talk about—I don’t think there’s anything you could tell me that would make me want to walk away.” Kel kisses the top of my head. “Unless you’re a serial killer and are about to confess where the bodies are.” He pauses and I look up to see a twinkle in his eye. “Or if you’re about to tell me that you hate my chocolate chip cookies. Then I’m out.”
Laughing, I squeeze him tight around the middle, the tension broken. Kel grunts at the pressure and I let go. “Did I hurt you?”
