Chapter 11. A Little Ray of Light

Another day spent with him.

We were becoming typical for the past months after I walked back in his life. I loved his company more than ever. I felt the security, most importantly, I felt his love.

But I was afraid. The demon never left. There was always this feeling that we were going to fall apart.

I was scared of something that was not even there. For the most part of it all, I was waiting for him to mess it up— to mess me up.

The more I was happy, the more I was scared.

The more I pushed him away.

Maybe it was my way of testing him. Perhaps it was an attempt to prove to myself that gone was the man who tore me apart before. And he did prove to me that a lot of times.

For all the crazy things I did, he didn’t falter. He was right there— to hold me.

I remembered that day I got so mad I threw him out of the car. I drove off and left him on the side of the road under the freezing snow that accumulated for days. As I sped away, I could not shake off the sight of him by the side mirror— standing there confused and more so regretful of something he actually did not do.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and made a U-turn. I was not this person.

I let him in the car.

“I’m sorry… you don’t deserve this…”

I didn’t say the words. I held back my tears.

But I was crying for him.

The next day, for the obvious reasons, he came down with the flu. I didn’t go to work and stayed with him. I couldn’t say how sorry I was watching him suffer, all I could do was to make him comfortable. Somehow, he got used to my silence. When I would be upset about something he just waits for me to open up— he was just right there waiting.

When I needed space, he would give it but he would never leave my side. When we have some silly arguments, he never left my apartment. He would just stay out of my way.

He has this drawer in my apartment, the same I have in his. During those times that we would be in his place when I get upset, he would only ask if I wanted to be home and if I did he would silently drive me. But he would stay with me— drive me to work, pick me up in the afternoon. Then at night, he would lay beside me until I curl in his body. Until I would realize how stupid and childish I was.

Until I realize I was breaking his heart.

I never said sorry to him— out loud anyway.

That night when he was sick, I waited until he was asleep before I slipped in bed beside him. I didn’t care how hot his body was, I just needed to be so close to him.

“I’m sorry…” I found myself saying. At least he was asleep. I choke on my tears as I whispered again, “I love you.”

He sighed heavily. I held my breath until he settled in deeper sleep.

I smiled.

Oh, how I wish he heard it.

~~~~

Some of those things I did were hilarious like they were better seen in a movie. Something like the time I wrote on his mirror using my lipstick. I was actually laughing back in my car when I imagined his face once he saw it. If I told anyone about them, they would surely say that I’m either psychotic or he’s a masochist for putting up with me.

I did most of those things out of random spite— almost always impulsive.

At the end of it all, I would regret.

Most of the time, I cried alone for what I did once I remind myself that it wasn’t me— I was never like that. And worst of all, I would cry because I knew I hurt him but I knew what he would think.

He deserved that.

He never— not this time anyway.

I would regret more when I would see him again but I never apologized. The same way I never wanted to hear his apologies.

In some ways, I realize that he had been coddling me— even telling me his schedules. Sometimes I wanted to just tell him to stop but he would probably take it differently so I just ignore it. For instance that one night I got pissed off when he said he would email me his itinerary on a business trip abroad. If he didn’t realized it, for me it was both insulting and reckless of him to think that I would appreciate that.

I extracted myself deliberately off him but he was quick to catch me before I could even leave the bed. He wrapped me in his arms again and kissed me by the temple.

“I would love it if you could go with me…”

His words melted a small part of that annoyance that was fueling inside of me but once again I was feeling stubborn. “No,” I said and left the bed.

He didn’t follow nor do anything more but remain in bed while I perched myself on that windowsill where I could see the rest of the city from my mirrored wall. I watched the