Not once within the hour does she interrupt me, or ask me to elaborate, or dissect the emotions that I list to her. She allows me to pause when I need to catch my breath and sort through my feelings and waits me to force myself to continue.
I end the session realizing that Kendall’s right. I have pushed things away that I don’t want to face, not always because I’m afraid, but because I don’t want to disappoint others, and in doing so I’ve managed to hurt those that I care about the most.
It’s a Saturday night and I’m wearing a deep purple cocktail dress adorned with a pair of heels that Fitz had convinced me to buy while we were in New York for Thanksgiving. They’re teal and have a peacock feather painted on the sides in deep purple hues. I loved them instantly and feel happy to finally be wearing them. I spend a little extra time on my appearance, pulling my hair into an updo, lining my eyes, and shading my eyelids. I haven’t spent this much time getting ready for anything in Delaware before, and feel a little excited to be taking a small step in allowing myself to move forward.
My doorbell rings at 7:50 p.m. and I slide my coat on before face Danny.
His blue eyes widen slightly as I pull the door fully open. He got back late last night from being in Oklahoma for the last week but had called and texted each day to touch base.
“You look amazing!” he says, his eyes dancing around me like they’re not sure what they want to continue looking at. “I mean, you’re always gorgeous, but you … wow. I don’t think I can be away from you for that long again.” He wraps me in his arms, and I feel the warmth of him emanate through his light green button down shirt.
“You look pretty great yourself.”
His dimples stamp deeper into his cheeks as his smile grows, and without hesitation he leans forward and kisses me. It takes me a beat to stop the guilt from rising through me, and then I kiss him back, allowing my lips to linger on his as my neighbor across the landing opens her door.
A fading bruise along his right cheek has my fingers gently tracing over the tender area, but he shakes his head and wraps his fingers around mine. “It’s nothing. I don’t care about any of it. I just want to focus on you tonight.”
This afternoon Fitz had come over and listened to me as I talked through each of my concerns about starting something with Danny when I’m obviously far from being over my feelings for Max. Fitz encouraged me to talk to Danny about everything since he knew about the breakup from the very beginning.
We head out to a beautiful French restaurant where Danny listens to me tell him about the trip, wincing occasionally when I mention my feelings toward Max, and when I admit that I slept beside him on the couch. He doesn’t get upset though. His face remains relaxed through most of my confession, expressing his patience.
“If you’re willing to try this, Harper, I’m in. I understand that you loved him, and that a part of you still does, but I think as time goes on, you’ll realize that I can love you more. I’ll make you forget him and all the pain he’s caused you.”
I want to explain that most of my pain has been self-inflicted, but hold my words, crediting that at least I’m able to acknowledge the fact.
“We can start slow. There’s no pressure. We’ll go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.”
I reach forward and close my hand around his, and he brings it to his lips and places a soft kiss on the back of my hand before squeezing my fingers gently in his.
Things fall into a comfortable routine. Fitz accompanies me to pick out some living room furniture, a kitchen table, and even a new mattress and box spring. I order pictures to be enlarged and find a few prints to decorate my walls with. It’s still fairly scarce, but it’s improvement.
Kitty has started an aggressive diet that she complained mercilessly about for the first two weeks when I’d visit her each afternoon, prodding me with questions about what I ate, as she reluctantly swallowed more of the food that her husband, Jeff, shoved in front of her. However, a month later, things are improving slightly. The tumor hasn’t grown, and in fact shrank slightly, and she’s admitted to feeling less lethargic.
I’ve notified Mather’s Science and Technology that I won’t continue my work there after the end of this semester. Although science is something I will always love, I know that pursuing this avenue of science will never lead me to a feeling of fulfillment because it will never be able to bring me more days with my father and that the attempt to beat what killed him may very likely beat me in turn because I won’t be able to stop. Thus leading me to changing my major. Initially, I consider going into grief counseling because after the year that I’ve experienced, and my time with Kitty, I now realize how life changing they are, but I also know that I don’t have the right personality for it. I would love to help others overcome their sadness, but I know that I would likely drown in it myself.
Instead, I decide to stay in medicine and study where life begins. I want to become an obstetrician and celebrate life. I know that there will be difficult moments and times where things will occur like what Sarah experienced, but I feel more prepared for those moments and know that regardless of what happens, I will come out of it knowing that the world can be cruel, but it’s also filled with possibility and miracles.
I think that’s what drew me to Danny. I knew after dating Max, I’d never be able to date the Erics of the world again. Everyone was right. I had been dating the wrong type. I need someone that doesn’t seek out order or overthink every detail of life, because I already do that too much.
“It will be nice,” I agree, smiling as the front of his body brushes against my back. I lift the spoon from the pot and wait for the steam to dissipate as Danny takes a deep breath and groans.
“That smells so good.”
“Want to try it?”
“I’m dying to try it.”
I lift the spoon closer to him and the right side of his lips curl into a devious expression. He takes my free hand and swipes my index finger over the back of the spoon and then focuses his icy blue eyes on mine. They’re bright, dancing with excitement and lust, as he raises my finger and slides it into his mouth. A soft moan leaves his throat that has my heart racing.
His hand tightens on my waist and brings me closer to him and then his lips release my finger and fall to mine. I drop the spoon into the pot and trace my hands along his forearms, up to his biceps, where I clutch his shoulders and angle myself so I can deepen the kiss.
Danny moves me back a few awkward steps that has me nearly stumbling before he chuckles and pulls back for a moment to scoop an arm beneath my legs and another behind my shoulders. He carries me up the stairs to his bedroom.
Things have gradually gone farther and farther between us, and I can tell by Danny’s intense kiss and searching hands that grip my skin with desperation that if I want to stop things, I’ll need to do it soon. But his weight feels good against my body, and his fingers roaming over my skin make me question if I want him to stop.
His fingers slowly brush against my bare flesh and the rough calluses that cover his fingers and palms make goose bumps rise across my body with the familiarity that the feeling brings, but the touch is different. Where Danny’s is soft and gentle, like he’s almost afraid he’ll hurt me, Max’s was intense and desperate, like he needed to touch every last inch of my body, memorizing each and every detail of me as his hands had pressed into my skin and traced every last line.