CHAPTER613
Paris has been one year long life destroyer, and I am so done with this city.
I shrug out of his arms and move away.
“I’m fine…I want to go home… Right now.” I sound cold and unemotional. I move to my wardrobe and haul out my case. He watches me with that stubborn jut of the chin and determined air and slumps down on the edge of the bed in a defeatist way that is so unlike him.
“Not today… I need to sleep, eat and get my head together. You need to let this sink in and rest. You can pack if you like but we are going nowhere until I have taken you to the hospital myself, Sophs.”
“No!” I spin on him in fear and anger, stupidly reacting without knowing why it’s that emotion that spikes to the forefront. “For once can you do what I ask of you, what I need… To go home. No hospital, no delays, no heart to hearts. I just need for you to book us tickets and get the hell out of here without a fucking argument!” I glare at him and he silently stares right back at me. Two stubborn heads locked in a wordless war and neither move. So much translates in those seconds that seem to draw to minutes and I can almost feel my heart pulsing in my throat with the tension of the atmosphere. If I wanted to console him then I am going about it the wrong way.
There’s a tiny flicker of his muscle on his jawline and I visually see the Arrick wall go up too. Like me, he has his self-defense system and I just initiated it. Cool, calm, and hidden below the surface; he takes a slow breath and stands up very purposefully and deliberately. Like a shield being lifted or some sort of protective layer and the softer hurt Arry disappears behind the façade.
I’m sorry, baby.
“I’ll book flights to JFK if that’s what you need.” His tone is even, emotionless and husky. He walks to his case and pulls his jacket up to fish for his cell, avoiding my eyes and I’m immediately remorseful. He’s gone inwards, at a time we should be holding onto one another, but I can’t do it. I can deal with him better this way, selfish as it is. It’s all I can cope with right now.
“And a puddle jumper to the Hamptons direct from there… I mean my home, Arry. I want to see my mom.”
I have no idea why she is the one standing forefront in my mind. I’ve never needed her this way at all, not even when I first learned to trust and love her. It’s always been him, but I guess I know she will handle this a lot better than he will and be what I need. A calm stable person for me to lean on. She’s a doctor, a general practitioner who has dealt with all sorts of stuff like this, a million times before. She will take care of me and know what to do. She will know how to help him too.
Arrick hasn’t said anything about my Hampton request, he’s frowning, knowing fine well not wanting to head back to our pad in the city is not normal for me. Not normally someone who runs to home when I need someone, I usually run to him and wherever he is.
I see the flinch of hurt in his expression, but he pushes it down further and that posture and mask of Arrick Carrero kicks in fully. Like a guy who has no cares in the world if you don’t scratch too deep.
It kills me a little bit that I have made this side of him come out to play. It’s not the side he normally wants to give me but for now it’s what I need. No talking, no pain, no facing anything; just go home.
I’m antsy and irritated as I fold and unfold clothes into the open case and when he walks out to the Livingroom, I feel a little lighter. His presence is making me suffocated, like a lingering dark cloud. A few minutes pass silently before I hear the scrape of a chair that signals him moving around.
“Flights are at ten pm tonight. I’m going to the kitchen.” He calls out coldly, his voice betraying nothing and I stop what I am doing and sink onto the bed with a sigh of hopelessness and relief that he did what I wanted. Knowing him he will go stay in there for a while and take it out of making food or doing something dumb like organizing the refrigerator. It’s how he deals with his messy head.
I don’t know how to deal with mine.
I can’t fix us until I fix me. I need to take one step at a time and get through today. Get home, get around people who love me and normal life. Arrick will be okay, we will be okay. I need a little breathing space to deal with all of it.
Just get back to New York, get back to normal and it will all get better.
***
We walk into my family home, after a tense flight where we didn’t talk much, following a whole day of sitting in either silence or with the TV blaring to kill the emptiness. Arrick has given up trying to talk to me and we are both stuck in our own little bubbles of despair, worlds apart.
The part of me that should be terrified about how we are being right now is not interested. I’m so wrapped up in my own confused feelings and thoughts that I have no space for his. I t held myself together long enough to get here and now that we are, the same overwhelming weight sits on my shoulders.
It’s not that I don’t want him to touch me, really, it’s that letting him close makes me feel like a shit human being. I can’t stop seeing the agony behind his mask and I don’t want to deal with it.
I tried to will myself to turn and talk to him to ease some of the tension, but on the plane, I caught his eyes mist up as he subtly watched a woman across the aisle feeding a baby. I felt like I had been slapped in the face and I recoiled to my own side and curled up to stare out of the window instead.
He maybe didn’t want kids either and the shock and knee jerk reaction made that clear when we took those tests, but somewhere along the way he changed his mind and fully embraced that he was going to be a daddy. All while I was tantrumming and acting out. Watching him get emotional over some stranger’s baby made me feel sick to my stomach, and I can’t talk to him right now.
The last two weeks, he kept telling me to take it easy, eat better stop getting so upset and I didn’t listen. I kept fighting with him, acting like a spoiled kid. Cursing and resenting the life in me for what it was ruining and never thought beyond myself. I gave it a hostile environment, where it couldn’t thrive, like some toxic girl who pretty much pushed it out of her own body with my lack of love.
Except… Eight hours to stare out a window at passing clouds feeling everything as it started to un-numb made me realize… I didn’t ‘not’ want it either. I didn’t have time to get used to the idea, and now I have no choice."
