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“Something wrong?” he asks at the threshold to the hallway, a concerned frown twisting his lips and dampening his earlier enthusiasm.
Instead of answering, I meet him where he stands and press into his body, rising on my feet until our mouths connect. A second of shock surges through his body, then he softens into me, tentatively opening his mouth and welcoming my tongue.
I relish the sensation. After going without for weeks, this kiss is a sweet reminder of what I’ve deprived us of and is a much-needed respite from the turmoil dogging me since my anxiety attack.
“Thank you,” I say, separating from him. “Let’s go get our Takeshi back.”
A smile breaks out on his face and he takes my hand to quickly guide me out of the house and into his car. Although we’re all on one big compound, Takeshi’s refuge isn’t a simple trek, and neither of us want to arrive sweaty and out of breath for our big undertaking.
We pull up to a mansion I haven’t seen before. Its impressive size is similar to Shinji and Takeshi’s home. Shinji doesn’t give me time to marvel at the sight, instead rushing me inside, eager for the reconciliation I proposed.
He leads me past dark, empty rooms toward one with a dim glow. He pushes me inside but doesn’t enter. When I look in his direction, he shoos me forward and mouths, “I’ll be here the entire time.”
I inhale a bracing breath to shore up my vanishing courage and move toward the shadow sitting at the bar contemplating a glass of liquor.
“This is beginning to feel a lot like pity,” Takeshi says, his voice heavy with the invisible burden I lay on his shoulders.
Everything about him emits the aura of a man contemplating his end.
“Not the welcome I was expecting, but I’ll take it.” I try for a light tone, but my attempt falls flat.
Takeshi swings around, unable to hide his surprise in his wide eyes and slack jaw. “Why… How?” His eyes eat me up the closer I get to him.
I glance at his glass, around the room, then at him again. Now that I’m here to confront him and confess what’s held me away for so long, I can’t find the words. Blurting out that I’m messed up because of a rape I endured during my freshman year in college doesn’t seem like the right opening for this conversation.
I begin by answering the easier question first. “The how is Shinji drove me.”
Takeshi’s gaze jerks toward the entrance, but Shinji isn’t there. Although I can’t see him, I sense him nearby.
“Did he guilt you into coming here?” Takeshi’s mustache bristles with barely contained anger.
“You should know better than I, Shinji would never.”
He nods, his shoulders slumping in relief. “So you asked to come here?”
The hopeful note in his question twists at my heart. If not for me, he wouldn’t be living his days with doubt and torment.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Does this mean you know what you need now?”
I shake my head. “Not really.” My response causes the longing in his gaze to dim, so I quickly add, “I know what I want. I’m still not sure what I need to get there, though.”
“And what is it you want?” The question comes out as if he’s strangling from fighting opposing emotions; too afraid to expect anything yet never cowering from bad news.
“You. I want you.” I raise my arm, stalling him from lurching toward me as if I’ve gifted him with a present from the gods. “But I can’t have you the way I want until I explain why we’ve all suffered these past few weeks.”
Takeshi slumps in his chair. “You want…me? You want me.” Each time he repeats himself, his tone firms with the conviction of his belief.
“You remember the first night I freaked out on you when you and Shinji were too…” I fall silent, still unable to put the experience into words.
“I remember. It was hell watching you overcome your demons from that night.”
“Yeah, the thing is, I haven’t overcome them, and I wasn’t fully honest with you about the source of my trauma. Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t lie. Not exactly. The story I told you happened, but…” I look around the room toward a seating area with dark leather chairs. “Do you mind if we sit somewhere more comfortable for the next part? Standing here to confess isn’t easy.”
He nods and rises from the barstool. “Whatever you need.”
His response, so much like Shinji’s causes me to shake my head. “You and your husband are always so fucking accommodating.”
