“And you?” Rob lifts his chin before glancing over my shoulder and lifting his beer to signal he wants another.
“I… I don’t sleep with just anyone, hence the lower number of partners. I wouldn’t say that I have high standards or anything like that. I just wanted the sex to have meaning, you know? Or maybe you don’t because…” I exhale. “It’s only relatively recently that everything went to shit with my parents. Less than a year. Maybe that’s fucked me up because realizing you could be married to a man for twenty-five years and waking up one day and realizing he’s been lying to you for years, that you don’t recognize him anymore… that the mask has come off to reveal a perfect stranger in your bed… The worst part of all is that I've been worried my mom will come crawling back to him. Battered women syndrome. She feels like she has no worth, that she failed. She didn't. She can't control him. His choices are on him, but he's a world-class liar, and I don't want to be anything like him, which is why I had to tell you about the massage. I think… I think that after everything with Ace, I overreacted to the massage. I kinda blew up at Gabe a little, and that was unfair, but I don't want there to be any secrets between us, so I had to tell you. I'm trying here. I am. I just… The other guys I was with were nothing like you. I didn't end up caring for them like I do you."
I play with the webbing between my pointer finger and my thumb on my left hand. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable in my own skin before.
I’ve never felt so vulnerable before.
And it’s terrifying.
Rob hasn't said anything, and I'm afraid I said too much. I've freaked him out, and I shouldn't have mentioned the guys, just left it at my parents. I glance around at the other people in the bar, trying to look anywhere but at Rob, and I swear my chest grows tight. The place is way too crowded, a point that's reinforced as some guy bumps into our table. My breath is coming in quick and fast, and I feel lightheaded, and I swear the walls really do feel like they're closing in on me.
“Are you all right?” Rob asks, reaching across the table to maybe pat my hand.
But I have to grip the edge of the table to try to ground myself. “I… I need some fresh air.”
He nods, but just then, the waitress brings over his second beer. Rob shakes his head and places a twenty on the table.
I should feel relieved that he escorted me out, but I can’t concentrate on anything but the growing sense of pressure building in my chest. I can hear my blood in my veins, and it’s the strangest noise, and my breathing, it doesn’t help any.
Rob's saying something, but I can't make out the words. I just allow him to guide me to sit cross-legged, and he pushes down on the back of my head. Head down. Blood rushes to my head, and slowly, the pressure in my chest eases, and my breathing more or less returns to normal.
“Better?” he asks.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
“A panic attack?”
“Maybe claustrophobia.”
“Would you hide in a closet during storms?”
“No. I… I do recall at least one time being in a closet, hugging my knees to my chest.” I furrow my brow. “I can’t remember why, though.”
“It’s all right. Don’t worry about it.” He’s been crouching beside me, rubbing my back, but now, he straightens and holds out his hand.
Mine fits in his so well, and I let him pull me up to standing.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”
“The night’s not over, and I wouldn’t say it’s ruined.”
“Yet,” I mumble.
We walk over to his bike, and I climb on and sit behind him. When I go to wrap my arms around him, I wish I could bring my hand down lower, to touch him. It would probably be awkward, but I would love for him to take me right here on his bike or, better yet, for me to ride him on his sweet ride.
But we aren’t there yet.
And maybe we won’t ever be again.