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Just as I pull my hand away, there is a knock on my front door. My heart misses a beat. Anxiety gnaws at me at once. A bad feeling comes over me.
I get up slowly and leave the room, taking care to close the door behind me. It’s all right, Iris, the cops said they’d make their rounds, everything’s fine. There’s a little more knocking. If it was someone who wanted to hurt me, they wouldn’t bother knocking, right? If it was the same person as before, they’d pick the handle again. Looking through the peephole, I am deeply surprised to discover Tucker standing in the doorway. He was angry when I asked him to leave, so what the hell is he doing here?!
I am confused as I unlock and open the door for him.
“Why are you still here?” I ask.
He passes by me without waiting a second, pushing me slightly. The smell of his cologne invades me again but I ignore it.
“You’re getting on my nerves. I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry,” he starts, standing in the middle of my living room.
I lean against the door, arms crossed over my chest.
“Tucker…” I sigh.
He points his index finger at me.
“Damn it, I’m worried about you.”
His sentence leaves me stunned. I had noticed the concern on his face, but hearing him tell me is something else.
He walks towards me again, unable to stay in place. “Don’t push me out. Don’t push me out because I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t—”
He places his hand against my mouth, pressing his body against mine. “I get it, you don’t want to talk. It drives me crazy but I understand. But I don’t want to leave.”
I pull his hand away from my mouth. “You…wait, what? You can’t stay tonight.”
“I can and I will,” he announces firmly as he suddenly walks away to my couch.
Stunned, I watch him fall back against the cushions, head back, staring at the ceiling. I must be dreaming. I told him to piss off half an hour ago, he left in a rage, and now he’s back on my sofa? He doesn’t want to talk, he just…wants to be here.
“So what, you’re just going to sleep on my couch?” I ask him as I walk away from the door.
A growl comes from his chest but he doesn’t answer me and closes his eyes.
“Tucker, seriously,” I say louder to him.
Indeed, he seems perfectly serious. My heart is moved by his determination. He doesn’t know how to put it into words, but I understand what he is doing. He’s showing me that I’m not alone. He’s just in this room, a few feet away from me, and I feel…safe. It’s like he’s figured out that deep down I need him. As if he understood that I was too stubborn to admit to myself that I needed his presence tonight.
I walk towards him.
“You don’t have to,” I whisper.
He keeps his eyes closed. “Good night, Iris.”
He dismisses me firmly. I watch him for a few seconds and go back to my room. All these events are overwhelming me. I am used to rely only on myself, to be accountable to no one, and I have the impression that everything is changing.
I lie down next to Agnes, who is fast asleep, and stare into the void. I saw the gleam in Tucker’s eyes. I hurt him. I shut him out like I always do and rejected him again, and hurt him. I shouldn’t care, but I can’t. I didn’t mean to hurt him. Shit, I care about him. I’m realizing that more and more. He. Means. A lot. To. Me.
He rushed to my apartment, crazed eyes, body tense. When he placed his lips against mine when he entered my apartment earlier, his gestures were clumsy. He was trembling. He had been afraid for me and, because I was afraid myself, I sent him away. And yet, despite his anger, he came back, and is now lying on my damn couch. Because he cares about me too.
I toss and turn a few times but can’t get to sleep.
I can easily imagine Tucker’s body on my couch. I feel a sudden urge and sit up on the mattress.
Do it, my conscience orders me.
