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“Did you hear that?” he asks me urgently, his voice low. He spins, looking around us frantically.
“Shit, where is it?”
“I heard a goose.”
It’s so much easier to communicate insecurities when you don’t need to communicate them at all. Isn’t that all we ever want? To be seen and heard? Validated, even when we’re not able to ask for it.
“As capable as you think I am, it’s far less than how capable I think you are,”
“You’re perfect, Win,” Bo says, as easily as breathing. “Of course I’d want them to have every part of you.”
“Back then, there was no real word for the way Joanna seemed to lose herself during pregnancy. She became…like a ghost. I tried to help. I tried to get her help, but…”
“It was all too much for her. She left a note, saying that she was sorry. That she loved us. That she couldn’t explain why she couldn’t stay, and…she took her own life. Robbie was only twelve weeks old.”
The realization as to why every step of this pregnancy has held such weight to Bo. My feelings, my housing, my finances, my health. All because of what happened to his mother.
Now is different. I think he needs you.”
Let me in, I want to say amidst the silence. Love me. Trust me. I won’t let you down. I swear it.
“You’ve given me so much, Win.”
“Ever since I met you, it’s like every part of me has healed a little bit. Do you know that? Do you know that you do that for people?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how to get us both there at the same time.”
We both said our piece, and then she asked how I was. And then…I talked about you.” “Me?” Bo shakes his head, smiling. “I’ve been talking about you to pretty much anyone who will listen for months,”
Our souls were tied a long time ago, I think. We’re just finally admitting it to each other.
“I love you, Win. I love you so much it makes me feel like I’ve hated everything else in my life up until now. Nothing compares to what I feel for you. Not even close.”
“But it is my job to love you the way you deserve to be loved from now on.”
I watch, my head hanging between us, as Bo pushes his cum back in with two fingers.
I think these would suit your hair.” One by one, he slots tiny bunches of white flowers between the strands of my braid, his eyes concentrated as he fixes them to be precisely right.
Bo loves me for free. No expectations. No demands. Not a single ounce of selfishness. I love you, I think, rubbing my thumb across his cheek as he smiles shyly at me. I love you too, he says, silently, when he winks back at me before pushing open his door and rushing to open mine before I get the chance.
