“That’s because deep down, you’re an optimist.”
“What?” He ran his hand over his jaw. “That’s how you see me?”
“Yes. Under your growls, groans and grunts is a belief that good always prevails and success is just around the corner.”
“That’s not optimism. It’s rock solid confidence that I will never relent until I achieve my goal.”
She leaned against a stack of boxes. “You’re lucky that you don’t suffer from;the other shoe is going to dropsyndrome.” Confusion filled his face. “Do you know what the most difficult emotion for me is?”
“Vulnerability?”
“No. It’s joy. When things are going well, my brain tells me not to lean in too much because the other shoe is going to drop, and I need to be ready. My intolerance for vulnerability has made joy foreboding. My monkey brain is quite strict and tells me it might be taken away if I dare soften into the moment.”
“So you stay in the middle. That way, if things don’t work out, you’re not devastated.”
“And if they do, it’s a pleasant surprise.” She took his hand. “But I don’t want to do that anymore.” Holding up their clasped hands, she let out a long breath. “I want to lean in these moments of joy and not play it safe.”
“Thank you.” He pulled her into his arms. “I’ve never had so much at stake, and hearing that you’re going to give it your all makes me breathe a lot easier.”
“Good.” She gave him a slow once over. “But don’t get too comfortable because I plan to make you lose your breath later this evening.”
“Don’t be saying things like that, woman.” He let go of her hand. “We have shelves and bins to unpack.”
“Be still my heart. Those are some of my favorite words.”
“I thought harder and deeper were on the top of your list.”
“You hush.” She looked around the garage. “The holiday decorations may hear you.”
“God forbid.”
She laughed at his disgruntled expression and followed him to the truck. “Whoa.” She counted five large bags and four boxes. “This is too much.”
He kissed her head. “This might be a good time to do that leaning-in thing. Shopping for this stuff made me really happy because I knew how good it would make you feel.”
“Alright. But I will repay you in some way. Maybe I can repaint your kitchen and give it a little life. All that white is boring, and I bet that if I…”
“Babe, you don’t have to repay me.”
“But…”
“I know that you’re not comfortable accepting help or gifts, but I’d like to be the one to change that.”
“Can’t I keep some of my less egregious coping mechanisms and focus on the ones that are really a problem?”
“Sure, but then you will deny me the pleasure of doing stuff for you. I’m not eloquent and don’t always know the best way to express my emotions, but I can install a kick-ass shelving system to show you that I care about your happiness.”
“Oh.” She looked past his truck and accepted that this was something she would have to become comfortable with. “Would you let me at least paint one wall in your kitchen? It’s very institutional, and I think we can do better.”
“We can paint it together.”
“Okay.” She leaned against his arm and tried to make sense of the swelling pressure in her chest. Was it a big ball of love on the verge of exploding?
“This thing between us means a hell of a lot.” He encircled her in his arms. “There’s a ton of hope sitting on my chest, and I’m optimistic for the first time in years. I never expected anything to live up to my experience on the Teams, and the most I expected to find was some mild satisfaction. But then you moved in, and a door opened.” He shook his head. “Colors I forgot existed have become an everyday occurrence.” He tipped his chin toward the bags and boxes. “I’m doing all this to show you that I can’t wait to see what the future holds.”
She swiped at a tear. “When you decide you express yourself, you don’t mess around.”
“So, is that a yes?”