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She’ll struggle today. Then again, she’ll have the responsible side of me.
“This won’t be like our first night here.” I lower my second foot to the first step of the pool. “I’ll keep you safe.”
I don’t say anything reckless and demeaning like It’s no big deal, it’s just water.
Belittling someone’s anxiety—mocking them with a get over it—is reckless. It’s humiliating and hurtful. Most of all, it’s pointless.
There’s no magic word to tap into our fears and magically solve them.
She can’t swim. She convinced herself she’ll never be able to.
As I search Leighton’s horrified expression, I know I won’t be able to fix it. I don’t want to fix her. I don’t want to change her.
“I want to toy with you.” My honesty is necessary; otherwise, she won’t budge. Or worse. She might panic and shut down. I’m not here to hurt her. Deep breath, and, “Leigh, I apologize for throwing you into the pool the other day.”
She narrows her eyes. Then takes a step closer to me without getting in. “You are?”
“Yes, really.” Our faces are the same height now, and I caress her cheek with the back of my palm. “I won’t apologize for being the multi-faceted man I am. Loving you brings out another side of me. My emotions are heightened. My brain short-circuits. What I do apologize for is for being reckless and using your fear against you.”
“That sounds a lot like an excuse for future shit behavior.” Her lips pinch, even though she’s leaning into my touch. “I’m warning you that I won’t accept that. I won’t stay for that.”
She doesn’t say domestic violence. Doesn’t have to. I hear it loud and clear through her trembling voice. She’s right.
“I’ll never hit you. I won’t throw you in the pool, either. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching while you slept over the time we’ve spent here. I won’t hurt you in a way you won’t like.” I tug her closer, and my Leighton comes to me. “But you have to realize, I’ll never stop obsessing over you. Never be able to be any less possessive than I am. You’re safe with me, though. You’re…”
Concern appears on every inch of Leighton’s face. Furrowed brow. Eyes questioning. Lips pulled back.
She needs me to say what I have to, yet it terrifies her.
Hell, it terrifies me too.
“You’re just as important to me as Rylan is.”
Another step, and Leighton has one foot inside the pool. On the first step, where I wait for her.
“Don’t.” The fingers of her free hand trail down my face. “Rylan’s your number one priority. I won’t ever ask you to give me her place in your heart.”
“Sweet, sweet Leighton.” I slip my arm around her waist, pressing my hand to her back as she stands there diagonally. “I love Rylan with my whole heart.”
There’s no other person I’d aid in covering up not one but two motherfucking murders.
“She’s my entire world,” I reassure Leighton. “Nothing will ever change that.”
The slightest pressure on her back has her other foot joining me on the first step of the pool. Leighton doesn’t notice she’s inside, and I don’t point it out.
The glazed look in her eyes indicates she’s entering the first stages of an altered state.
I’m not sure what it is I said or did to encourage this.
Which is why I don’t push. I observe. I keep talking.
“She’s a grown woman, Leighton. Soon, she’ll move out. She’ll have her own family. And you and I will have ours.”
Leighton breathes in a sigh of relief. Her hand drops to her side. Her toes wiggle, brushing against mine. I feel them flexing and relaxing in the water in monotonous motions.
Flex, relax. Flex, relax.
“You’ll hold the same space in my heart. Her, you, and our future children.”
