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My words sound too loud in the silence, and she lifts her head and looks at me. “Congratulations?” The note of humor in her voice tells me she doesn't understand, which makes perfect sense given I didn't give her enough context to understand the gravity of my comment.
“I'm not a good guy when it comes to women.” I'm not sure what I'm trying to do, completely derail any possibility of a relationship or drive her away in disgust, or simply be honest with her in case there is some hope for this spark between us.
“Well, you've been absolutely amazing, and that's all that matters.” As she says the words, I can hear a strange note in her voice, as if she's unsure she believes them.
“I was part of a club - a sex club.” I think about Club Red, wondering what I ever saw in the place. Sure, it was great for no strings attached liaisons, but I never felt good about myself while there or directly after.
I feel her whole body stiffen up.
“Don't worry, everything was very strictly regulated. I'm absolutely clean.” I don't want to alarm her, but I want her to know exactly what she's getting into. “But that lifestyle didn't make me happy, and I left it behind.” After a while, I realized I felt more lonely after an encounter at Club Red than I felt simply being alone. So I started opting for being alone instead.
“Why are you telling me this?” Her question is perfectly valid, but I'm not sure I can give her an honest answer.
I want to tell her how incredibly important she feels to me and how she makes me feel things I've never experienced before. I want her to know that even though I've been with women before, none of them are like her or make me feel the way she makes me feel. It’s not just about sex. There's something deeper between us. And while I don't want to label whatever this is between us, I do want to acknowledge that it exists.
“I'm not sure other than a deep-seated need to be honest.” Because if I say the rest of what I'm thinking, I'm going to sound like I’ve lost my mind, and I’m in too deep, too quickly. “Well, that and I've never had a date quite like ours,” I say sheepishly.
I'm still sensing an unexpected distance between us, but I could just be making something of nothing. Still, I worry she feels we moved too fast. I want to validate her, but I don't want to push if she says things are fine. It’s a delicate position, and one I don’t want to misstep in and screw up.
Our dinner was magic, and this time with her is even more so.
Driving her away would be stupid. Opening up to her gives her the option to decide what she wants to do next.
“Well, thank you for telling me.” I can't quite shake the finality of her tone, as if this is the last time she ever plans to see me again. No doubt I'm overthinking things, but her whole demeanor seems... off somehow. Frankly, it's driving me crazy, but I'm not about to call her out.
As it is, I've been able to show her my world and show her a part of me that no one else sees. I see her eyes, unfocused, and know that she's staring out the windows to the stunning view of the city. I can see little raindrops dotting the glass before sliding down, and each drop reflects the light and dark of the world outside. There's beauty in this moment, in the quiet between us, and this shared space. Having her here just feels right.
I relax back into the couch as she lays across me, her warmth settling into my bones. After our romantic encounter, she hurriedly dressed and I followed suit, even though I’d left my suit jacket on my desk. After she got dressed, I'd pulled her close, trying to soothe the panic within her. And the move had worked. She'd relaxed and allowed me to pull her back to the couch. And now we're just laying together, watching the rain fall, the lights twinkle, and listening to one another’s breathing.
“I like you a lot, Zoe.”
She lifts her head and treats me to a sleepy smile. “I like you too, Damien.”
Once again we fall into a silence and the near dark, romantic atmosphere. With every breath, I can smell her sweet perfume and taste her kiss. She laces her fingers with mine again, and we lay there in the quiet, staring out the windows.
“I really enjoyed our time together.” The way she ends the statement tells me there's more she wants to add, but she doesn't, and I'm left holding my breath, waiting to see what happens next. I can only assume she's trying to tell me that our time has come to an end.
Internally, I hope that's not the case. I could lay like this with her forever, even though I know that's not realistic.
“I have too,” I say, leaning in and pressing my lips to hers. She kisses me back, her lips moving gently against mine. We break the kiss and go back to cuddling on the couch, enjoying the moment. I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me, and she rests her head on my chest as if listening to my heartbeat. I absentmindedly run my fingertips through her hair and press my lips to the top of her head.
I want to tell her that she makes me happy, but I worry that it's too soon.
I don't want to be too much, too soon, and accidentally pushed her away. But she really is special to me and has been since I met her that morning on the cruise. And we just stay like that for a while, wrapped up in one another and simply feeling each other's presence.
I can't shake the feeling that something is off with her.
I feel the tension in her body.
I sense her discomfort.
And I wonder if it's something I did or something I said that upset her.
“Is everything okay?” I ask, hating to sound like that date. The annoying one who asks their counterpart if they're okay over and over, or asks if their date hates them. I don't want to upset her if there really is nothing bothering her, but I do absolutely feel like there's something she's holding back, something that might be better discussed.
“Yeah, everything's fine. I'm just processing things. A lot has happened very quickly.” As she says the words, she gives away exactly what's on her mind. We’ve done too much, too quickly.
I hope she doesn't think that I'm judging her, and I want to try to put her mind at ease if that's the case, but I also don't want to put it in her head that maybe I might be judging her if that's not what she's concerned about.
