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A soft knock at my door makes me jump. My heart races again because of the adrenaline rush. I step closer to the door, holding my breath, and look at the peephole.
It's Griffin.
My heart instantly breaks. I lean against the door and wish he wouldn’t do this. He could just let me go and not make this harder than it has to be. I'm terrified that if I let him in, he'll be perfect to me, and I'm so scared that if I don't answer, I'll regret it.
But I’m more scared of using him. Because he doesn’t deserve that.
He knocks again.
I unlock the door without thinking and open it, breathing fast. I don't want to start sobbing in front of him, but I'm too emotional to keep everything in.
Words aren’t an option so I stand there, waiting for whatever he has to say. Everything hurts looking at him and I want to fall into his arms and just love him the best I can, but I know it’s not enough.
“I want to talk to you.” He has his hands in his pockets the same way he did before, and his expression is sincere and open and handsome. Although his eyes are riddled with sadness.
“It's late,” I point out.
“I don’t care,” Griffin says. He lifts his chin a bit, completely determined. “And if I went home right now I'd call you as soon as I got there. To be honest I probably wouldn't even leave the parking lot. I'd just call you from my car.”
My heart thuds.
Thump. There’s the man I love. Thump. Who I just keep hurting.
“Please, Renee. I really want to come inside and talk.”
I nod and open the door wider. It creaks like it wants me to know what I’ve done. Like it has to remind me that I’m letting him in. I step back out of the way and shut the door behind Griffin. I flip the lock on the door, check it twice, and turn to face him.
Now that he's here, I can feel all the tiredness and tension from the day. My feet hurt, even though it wasn't a very long shift, and my neck is sore.
Everything aches as I lead the way into the living room, feeling Griffin close behind me.
Thump. My heart warns me. Thump. Don’t hurt him. Thump. Just let him say his piece, take it, and let him go.
There's a small nightlight near the door that makes it easier to see my way to the table with the lamp. I turn it on to its lowest setting. The light almost reminds me of candle light. It doesn't hurt my eyes.
Griffin lets out a breath as I let myself fall onto the couch and wait for him. He turns around, and I can hear his shoes landing in the entryway as he kicks them off. I pull the blanket over my lap out of habit. As if it’ll protect me.
The couch dips and it’s then I realize I’ve been closing my eyes. I open my eyes and watch Griffin get comfortable on the far cushion. He's careful to give me space, but his gaze moves over my body and lingers on my lips before he meets my eyes. Despite all the emotions I've felt over the past two days, nothing matters when he looks at me like that.
“You followed me home from work,” I say, because I'm not sure how else to start off the conversation. Griffin should probably be the one to kick it off, but he's being patient and quiet and watching me like I'll give up some of my secrets just because he's here.
“Yeah, I did. I made a mistake back there in the parking lot. And in the break room.”
My heart jumps up into my throat. It feels like it's beating too hard for me to stay alive, but I swallow and keep breathing. “Do you regret it all?”
“No.” Griffin shakes his head, a smile coming to his face and dropping away. “I don't regret touching you or kissing you or fucking you. Or being with you. I don't even regret that it was at work while the bar was open.”
I’m silent. Swallowing down every thought.
“Renee, you know I wouldn't regret anything we did together, don't you?”
“I know a person can come to regret almost anything.” I think of my mom and how she always says I did it for you, Renee. It's supposed to be a comforting thing, but it's only comforting to her. It's the reason she gives herself to justify going back to a man who destroyed her life. She said she’s sorry and I’ve said I’m sorry but sorry never fixed anything. “I know you can get caught up with someone who only ever hurts you, and that lasts forever.” I say without thinking and then I want to take it back.
Griffin looks confused. “You've never hurt me. And if I did anything to hurt you, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. But I deserve to know if I did something that hurt you.”
I curl my hands up in the blanket, then let it fall back to my lap. “You didn't do anything to hurt me.”
“I fucked up though,” he says, and I swear I can’t breathe. I know I just need to take this and then it’ll all be over. I just need to hold on so I grip the blanket tighter.
