Chapter Forty Two:
A Question of Trust…
It seems almost impossible to actually buckle down and get some work done, but when Eddas asks if I'd like to go grab some dinner with her I find that I don't want to leave the office either.
"Something the matter?" she queries, real fucking carefully – I can hear it in her tone. She knows something's up – knows it's not just something stupid and trivial, either. Fuck, can everyone read me like a God damned open book?
"Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, there Boss Lady," I tell her with a forced grin. And – it's true, it's nothing she needs to worry about. It's my life. I've screwed up the one good thing I had – but that doesn't matter to Eddas. The only thing that matters to her is me getting the job done. I can do that.
"Sands – "
I wave off whatever she was going to say. "I'm a good little rat, remember? You don't have to worry about a guy like me. Whenever there's cheese around, we're real fucking dependable."
I hear a sigh – then, "I got some of the information back from that micro chip you gave me this morning. It's good."
I just nod. I knew it would be.
"You sure you don't want to grab a bite to eat – it's almost eight o'clock."
"I'm not hungry. Hey – do me a favour and close the door on your way out, would you?" it's the best way I can think of tell her to just go the fuck away and leave me alone… I like the lady, I don't really want to tell her to just piss off.
Eddas doesn't say anything – but I hear her soft retreat and the door being closed behind her and I go back to work. I've got Collins primary code cracked (that was cake, he used one of the oldest encryptions in the book), but the little fucker doubled up on me; not only did he encrypt the words, but the words are all fucking personal code and slang. However – cracking that is just a matter of getting into ol' Danny Boy's skull… not literally. It's a nice thought – I'd like to fucking crack his head open… but – I promised I'd be a good boy. I said I'd play by the rules, go by the book – give this guy up to Eddas on a fucking silver platter. Of course when I said that, I was sure I had a reason to come out of this in one piece…
And I still do. Yeah, I know, I can be a total fuckmook sometimes, but I know that even if I lose everything else, I still have Emma to take care of. She's fifteen. She's a big girl – but she still needs me and I know it, so I've still gotta play it by the book. I've got to crack this and hand it over to my boss lady – I've got to be the good little toady I've been pretending to be…
And I think the first thing I'm going to put in this god damned desk is a bottle of painkillers, because by the time I decide to call it quits, I've got a fuck of a migraine.
I don't go straight home – I don't really go anywhere. I just wander around until I come to what seems like some kind of diner. I toss my smoke to the ground and go in. I'm really not hungry, but I'm not ready to go home… I'm not ready to face what's waiting for me there – or worse, discover that nothing is waiting…
The joint I've just walked into smells like a real dive. Grease – beef – chili – yeah I'll bet there's not one thing on the menu that won't give me indigestion and/or heartburn (or put anybody's life in any danger) – which means it sounds just about perfect.
Sounds like there's less than half a dozen other patrons eating, chatting, clinking their spoons against their cups as they stir their coffee, cheap metal forks scraping against thick plastic plates as they shovel food into their big fat faces…
I'm greeted with a banal welcome by what sounds like a middle-aged woman who hates job. I ask her if she can direct me towards a seat at which point I think it dawns on the broad that the dog and cane aren't for fucking show. Well duh, lady, would a guy who could see be wearing dark glasses at night? But keep my thoughts to myself, offering up a vaguely charming little smile instead of the tongue lashing she deserves, and let myself be directed towards a booth near the door.
I keep it simple – coffee and a sandwich – everybody serves BLT's. White toast, tell the cook not to burn it, huh and heavy on the mayo. Yeah, sure soup would be great with that – yep it's a cold night all right… I hate idle chit-chat.
And I'm still not hungry even when my food arrives (the soup is surprisingly passable – tomato, home made and I even get the lots of crackers that I ask for.) I eat my soup and pick at my sandwich. I can eat even when I'm not hungry as long as I know I should – and food will help my head. So would a bullet straight through the – bridge of my nose. Fuck me, I hate this. I hate not knowing what's waiting for me back home… and I hate it that there's only one way to find out.
I pay my bill, leave a better than average tip and call for a cab.
…………………………………….
At the door, I take on last drag of my smoke and toss it to the ground before going in… I guess it's finally time to face the music.
I smell her cologne lingering in the air before I become fully aware of the soft sounds of breathing. Sleep. She's asleep on the sofa. There's that deja vous all the fuck over again…
But she's still here. At least for right now, she's really still here… only I don't know if she's going to tell me they're leaving in the morning – or if they're staying forever. And there's only one way to find out, I'm just not ready, not yet. I need – I need to hang onto the fantasy for just a few more minutes, just try to pretend that there's no CIA, no Culiacan – no swapping spit with Paula Basil – no nothing. Just a man and a woman… and a dog waiting very patiently for me to undo his harness.
I kneel and set Spencer free – he pads quietly over to his chair and hops in. Then, as quietly as I can, I shrug out of my coat and hang it up by the door. The hat follows. My black cowboy hat – she knows me too fucking well. Please just let her really be as forgiving as I think she might have sounded this afternoon… I don't want to lose her, not over something so stupid. (I know it's not the kiss that hurt her, it was me lying about it, misleading her. Betraying her for Paula's sake. And even if Beth does accept my apology, even if she can forgive me, I wonder if she'll ever be able to trust me again. I can't say I'd blame her if she doesn't. No one should trust me – wasn't she listening all those times that I told her that? I'm not a nice guy and I knew I'd only end up hurting her, I just didn't expect it to be like this.)
I park my ass on the floor in front the sofa and just listen to her sleeping for a while. I imagine how she must look, blond hair, golden skin, wrapped in soft cotton and silk, and it really is all I can do to keep my hands to myself. I want to 'see' her in the only way I have left. I want to run my hands over every inch of her and make her feel good. I want to hold her against my body and have her say she'll never leave me… but I guess I'll have to settle for touching her shoulder and whispering her name quietly in the dark.
Under my hand, she stirs and I draw back instead of doing any of the things I want so desperately to do… if Beth ever pushed me away it would kill me and I know it.
"Hey there, Cowboy," her voice sounds warm, kinda like she's smiling, but I know she's half asleep, so – it can't mean anything. "How long have you been sitting there?" She asks – it sounds like she's sitting up.
"Not long." Truth is that I have no idea how long I was really sitting there – everything just all kind of feels dark right now. (Hell, I don't even know what time it was when I finally left the diner...)
"You really didn't think I'd be here, did you?"
"I wasn't real sure," I admit, wondering if I'm really that transparent – of if she really can read my mind.
"Nothing worthwhile is ever easy, remember?"
"Guess I'm not so sure I'm all that worthwhile."
"You are to me."
Oh Christ, she can't mean that… no, no she can't mean that. I must have fallen asleep sitting here listening to her breathe and this has to be a dream… There's no way it can be real… but it's a nice dream. Maybe I'll get to enjoy it a little before I wake up to whatever's really going to happen…
I almost jump when I feel the warmth of Beth's hand on my cheek. She cups my face in her palm and I remember the first time she touched me like this, how desperately I wanted to lean into her warmth, how hard I fought with myself… how stupid that really was. Life is so fucking short and filled with so much fucking pain that not taking a little pleasure when it comes along… so yeah, I'm asleep, but I lean into her a little bit anyway and just enjoy the feeling of her warmth. She brushes some of the hair from my face with her other hand and for half a second I think I can almost see her face… I take her hand into mine and bring her palm to my lips, brushing them softly against her skin. This may be the only way I ever get to touch her again… its funny, though – even in a dream, I still can't seem to say any of the things I want to say to her… I can't really see her face, but I imagine her smiling down at me…
"You're wide awake, Sheldon," her voice is – it's fucking impossible to interpret because I know what I want to hear and I can't believe I'm hearing it… I just hold onto her hand and listen to her voice and I hope she's really saying what I think I'm hearing (and that I'm really honestly awake and not just dreaming this). "I told you that I was here for you. I told you that – that I wouldn't run away at the first sign of a bump in the road. I meant that."
"This is more than a bump, Ange."
"It's really big bump. But I told you I understand why did what you did – said what you said. And you were right – the guys Marlina sent out found bugs in every room. If you'd told me last night what really happened – and why – it would have been bad for Paula. She's helping you. You owe her something for that."
"I don't owe her half of what I owe you."
"You don't owe me anything."
"Please don't say that – I owe you everything."
"What happened in Mexico – I am who I am. I told you before that patching you up – putting you up – putting up with you," (I'm sure I hear just a wee bit of smile in there), "That was on the house. It was just me being me."
I press my lips to her palm one more time, "I don't deserve you." You should just go…
"The real question is do you want me."
Oh Christ – I want her more than anything… and I just can't believe she's making this so fucking easy... "Yes."
"Nothing worthwhile is easy, Cowboy. But as long as you want me – I'm here for you, just like I said I would be."
"I'm sorry for all this shit, Sweetheart. You shouldn't have to live like this – you shouldn't have to worry about someone listening in on you – watching every move you make – " you shouldn't have to put up with a prick like me…
I feel the movement of her shrug, "It doesn't bother me that much."
"Are the girls ok – I mean – having the place swept for bugs didn't freak them out too much, did it?"
"They're fine. Cicily found the whole thing kind of boring – Emma was a little rattled – but once they assured her that the likelihood of anyone reading her diary or getting into her computer was slim, she calmed down."
Yeah. But there isn't much reason to go getting into her personal shit, it's me they're after. Unless one of them really does answer back to Suarez too… "I'm still sorry you had to go through that."
"It wasn't the worst thing that happened to me today."
"I'm sorry about that too."
"I know. I understand. I really would rather just live with what happened than to live without you. I'm still a little hurt," she admits, "But – I will get over it."
"Forgiven, not forgotten?"
"It's a bruise. Bruises heal."
Yeah… bruises heal… she'd know all about that…
"It's ok," Beth tells me softly. "It really is."
"So – where do we go from here?" (And I'm real sure I'm not breathing – because I can't seem to make myself believe that it's really going to be ok. This is just too fucking easy.)
"Wherever we want to, I suppose. I'm not a – a greedy person. I'll take whatever you have to give me. Whatever you want to give me. Just – as long as you honestly want me around."
"I want you. I don't know what I have to offer – but – whatever I've got, it's yours, all of it." I just can't believe she's letting me off the hook like this – there has to be a catch somewhere, a shoe hanging poised to drop on my ass… "I know you're not going to trust me again for a long time – maybe not ever – " but I'll do anything I have to, to prove to you that you can…
"You're wrong. I do trust you."
I open my mouth to say – what? To ask how she can she possibly still trust me after – after all this shit I've put her through? I just – I'm fucking speechless is what I am. "You said – you said I couldn't do anything to fix this –"
"You can't. You can't undo the kiss – you can't unsay the words. But we can choose to move on from right here – and I can choose to trust you."
"How?" how can she honestly expect to be able to trust me after what I put her through…?
"I did a lot of thinking while you were at work. I thought about everything you said – and everything you didn't say – I thought about all things you'd said before – "
"Ange – " just because I didn't out right lie, that doesn't excuse what I did – it doesn't change anything –
"No, let me finish," she cuts me off. "I thought about what you said to me this afternoon – about how you did tell me the truth as soon as you felt you could. I'm sorry for some of what I said to you today, Sheldon. I was being unfair and I know it. That was the hurt talking, not me – I hope – I really hope – you can believe that and – and forgive me."
"You have nothing to apologize for."
"Yes I do. Someone is helping you – sticking their neck out for you – and you're right to protect her. I know how I made it sound. I'm sorry. I appreciate everything she's doing for you. You're right, she has no real reason to – but she is anyway."
"Beth – "
"I'm not saying I'm not still a little bit jealous – if I ever tried to say that, it'd be a lie. She's a beautiful woman and you have a history with her – but the bottom line is that I trust you. I believe in you."
And – and I think this is harder than if she told me she would never be able to trust me again.
See, if Beth didn't think she could trust me, I'd work my ass off to regain her trust, to prove to her that I meant it when I said she had my loyalty. I'd do anything I had to, to get her to trust me again… But I don't have to work my ass off. She still trusts me – even after all the shit I've put her through from the get-go – she still fucking trusts me. If she were anyone else, I don't think I'd believe them.
I think I might have lost that trust, momentarily – but I don't think that moment lasted very long, and now I'm going to be knocking myself out to really deserve it. To really deserve her – and it's going to be an uphill battle, because I've never felt I deserved her. I don't know how I could, angels and demons just don't mix… and she is an angel. My angel. I press her hand to my lips and just savour the moment… my angel.
"So ah – you said you had something else you wanted to talk about?" I ask her after a bit. I'm not ready for more; I'm ready to just drop. I want to just go to sleep knowing she's safe and sound upstairs, knowing that in the morning, she's going to be in the kitchen brewing coffee and humming softly to herself… knowing that she's still here and she's really not going anywhere.
"There – there's only one big thing. I know you're tired, but I – I think – I – I need to get this out into the open. The rest of it should work itself out if – if you're still – wanting me to stick around."
"Sweetheart, I don't frighten off so easy, either, you know."
"I know. But – it's more – it's just stuff that – please don't take it the wrong way –"
"But if I could see, I'd know –?" (I'm still hanging onto her hand, by the by. I just don't want to let go of her.)
"Maybe. Maybe not. Some people figure things our right away – others never get it. The one person who should have gotten it – who should have known – either he didn't know – or he didn't want to know. But he married me anyway – and – I'm not saying I'm ever expecting – "
"Shhhhh – whatever it is, just tell me. I'm not worried about it – but I'm listening."
"You ah – you wanna join me up here?"
Oh yeah… hauling my ass up off the floor proves a little more difficult than I'd've expected, though – something about trudging all over the museum today, I think…
"I told you to take it easier on yourself this afternoon," Beth chides me very gently as I settle in next to her.
"Lesson learned – but it was worth it," I reply. And – I'm not really expecting much, but when I feel her lean over into me, I put my arms around her and pull her close and my Christ it just feels so good to hold her again. I brush my lips up against the top of her head, "I am sorry, Beth, for everything."
"I know. I know you did what you had to do – and I know you did it for a good reason."
That doesn't really excuse the lie – but – "So – what's on your mind?"
"Something that isn't real easy for me to talk about. It's – it's like my gut feelings – it's a part of who I am – and it's part of what Neal found so much displeasure in. And I really don't know why – I mean I know why – but I never tried to hide it from him. I never tried to hide anything from him – I tried to hide it from Alan – but – "
"I know I haven't given you much reason to have a whole lot of faith in me – but I couldn't hurt you like that." Just every other way… "I could never hit you."
"I know. And I know I've been wrong about stuff before – I never saw Neal hurting me. I did kind of see Alan sleeping around – but – I'm pretty good at ignoring what's right in front of me when I don't want to see it. And I really had to get away from my father's funeral, it was just too much, so I guess it wouldn't have mattered anyway, I was bound to find out. But – I still know you'd never hurt me – not like Neal. I know – I just know," she rests her head against my chest – and I really do realize how much she trusts me. It amazes the shit right out of me.
I run my fingers through her hair and just hold her for a bit before asking what is it that she's having such a hard time talking about. (And I still wish she'd just let me take care of that fuckmook husband of hers my way…)
I feel Beth tilting her head up a little, so that she's looking at my face, "After – after they let me out of the hospital – you know a seventy two hour psych eval after I did that number on my wrists – the doctors suggested that what I really needed was to just get away from 'it all'. I didn't have anywhere to go but back to Fayetteville. Glenna's always been Glenna and Corey – I don't know. I just didn't think I could bounce in on him. Alabama's always been home in my head – in my heart. So I went back – and there was Neal. He'd been my best friend for so long when we were children. When I forgot my lunch – when there wasn't enough to go around, so I went without so Corey and Glenna could have something – he'd give me half his sandwich. He knew me. He knew about Daniel. He didn't know about my father – about the way he hit me – but – I don't know, maybe he did but we never talked about it. But – the point is that he knew me. And I was in too much pain to try and hide anything anyway – he knew all about what he was getting involved with – and – and he still – tried to change me and when he couldn't change me he hit me, as if that could somehow solve the problem – as if that could turn me into what he wanted me to be –" she's crying…
"Shhhh, you know what I think of your husband." You know I could fix it…
"Yeah. But – Neal knew me, Sheldon. I always understood why there were things about me Alan didn't want to deal with – things I tried to pretend didn't matter because – because I was stupid, I thought I was in love. I really can pick em."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
"I didn't mean – "
"I'm teasing, Sweetheart. I know I'm no peach."
Beth shifts a little – and for a second I'm not real sure – and then I feel her lips on mine and oh my Christ, what a kiss… it's not just that I love her kisses, it's that this one is really fucking something else… only when I cup her face in my hands, I can still feel those tears… I know they're because of someone else but… it still hurts… but …. "Keep that up and I'm gonna need a cold shower before I can get any sleep," I manage to finally find my voice.
"I just – I want you to know who I am. I don't want you to be surprised – or to wake up one morning and – and not like what you find next to you. I'm not afraid of you hitting me – but I am afraid of – of disappointing you."
"Sweetheart – I like you just the way you are. You get to me in ways no one else ever has. You're who I want. Who I need." Who I love…
"It's just that after everything I went through with Neal – I can take on whatever role you want me to fill in your life without changing who I am – but I just can't change who I am, not even for you. I just need you to know that."
"I don't want you to change," I tell her again. "And – I don't want you to just take what I dish up, either. You deserve the world - "
"Alan was an atheist," she tells me then, of the blue; but I'm almost used to that particular little quirk of hers. "I tried to bring up a couple of things with him – just in a general 'what do you think of X' kind of way. He went off on me for it. So I didn't bring it up again. I put everything important to me inside this little box and just kept it there like I was ashamed of who I really was. Sometimes I think that's why I – why I lost it as completely as I did, because I wasn't true to myself."
And – I really don't know what to say, so I just hold her. I think I kind of know where this is going – but with Beth it's a little hard to tell sometimes. "So what about Neal?" I ask.
"Neal is a hard core Southern Baptist, Hellfire and brimstone – holier-than-thou righteousness – at least when he's not at the bar getting drunk. But that's ok, you see, somehow that's ok. Somehow the women in that family learn to just look the other way when the men curse and smoke and drink – learn to look the other way when the men hit them. Somehow they think that's ok – just like – just like it was ok for my father to use his belt to – to put me on the straight and narrow. But it never worked – it didn't work for Da and it didn't work for Neal. The more he hit me – the more I'd hurt – the more I just knew I could never be this person he wanted me to be. I never thought I'd ever leave him, I had nowhere to go – not until he hit Cicily that time – but – but he couldn't change me. He could hurt me – but he couldn't make the dreams go away, he couldn't stop me from having those gut feelings – and he hated it when they were right. I tried to not say anything – but – sometimes the things I'd have feelings about were just so important, I had to say something, to help someone. And – and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't stop me, all he could do was – hit me."
"I'll never ask you to change. I doubt very much that I'll ever believe in whatever it is you do – but I'm not a hard core anything," I tell her softly.
"I just – I want you to know – to really understand – that Cicily hasn't been to church since we left Alabama – and she doesn't seem to remember it. She's never been to a synagogue or a temple or a mosque and she's not going to, either, not until she's old enough to understand and only if it's something she wants to do."
Yeah, I kinda figured that this was where things were headed when she brought up out of the blue that Alan was an atheist. I remember a couple of odd comments Beth's made – stuff I just filed away for later. And – I guess it's 'later.' "Ange, my mother dragged me to every kind Protestant church known to man when I was a kid. I think you can figure out for yourself that it didn't exactly 'take.' Just – I mean, I'm not going to find a goat tied up in our bedroom, am I?" and hopefully…
She just laughs, "Not unless I ever talk you into moving into the country and then the goat will be in a pen, for milk."
I make a face. I've had goat's milk, thank you – it is fucking gross. But at least she knows I was teasing her – and that means she has a sense of humour about the whole thing. I can deal with just about anything as long as I can poke a little fun at it once in a while. (Oh come on, you hadn't figured that out by now? Just look at my relationship with Milo.)
"I practically raised Cicily on goat's milk," she tells me.
"Good – she can have my share."
Beth just giggles a little more, before trying to get serious again (it seems like a valiant attempt, but I can tell she's still smiling, and that suits me just fine. I like it when she smiles.) "I just – I don't want there to be any surprises for you, that's all."
"Look – you're not going to shove anything down my throat, right?"
"Never. What I said before is true – a person's relationship with – whatever they call Deity – that's personal. I'll never judge you or – sway you – or do anything but just take you as you are."
Will you ever love me, I wonder… but I just run my fingers over her cheeks, enjoying the little kisses she places on them when they glide over her lips… "Sweetheart, if this is your big worry, than you've got nothing to worry about."
"It's just that – I'm raising Cicily with – certain beliefs – and – I'm not asking you to change anything you do – just to respect that – that we might do things a little differently."
"I can dig it. And I'm pretty sure Em can too. Holly was a Buddhist – and I'm getting the feeling that she probably exposed our daughter to – " to a fucking nudist, "To all sorts of shit. So – if there's something in particular I need a heads up about – just – tell me. "
"I – I'm really not trying to assume anything – but – you end up with four fewer shopping days til the big winter holiday, and – I don't know what your family traditions were all about, but to Cicily it's a real big deal. She still believes in Santa Clause, it's just – he visits our house a little early, that's all. That – and maybe I've over done things just a little because I – I hauled her out onto the road with me, upsetting her whole existence, so I tried to do what I could to bring a little stability into her life. Even if it doesn't seem like it from an outside point of view."
"It took guts to leave that creep, Ange – you did the right thing there."
"It wasn't guts – it was fear. Anger. I couldn't let him hurt her."
"You're one of the bravest women I think I've ever known," I bring her lips up to mine for another one of those kisses…
In the hall the clock chimes: one… two… three… shit. As much as I'm enjoying this, I pull back from her. "It's late, Sweetheart, you should probably go to bed."
"Or – you could come with me," Beth's voice is barely a whisper. "Cicily went to sleep in Emma's room tonight."
I'm not sure, but I think I may have forgotten how to breathe, because after the shit I pulled today, if we had a dog house, I'd expect to be sleeping there for at least a week while Spencer got my bed. I'm real grateful to still be on the sofa here…
"I'm not expecting anything, I know you're tired. But I would really, really like to sleep next to you tonight, Sheldon. If – if you're interested – "
Christ on a crutch, she really does not get how much I want her, does she? "Give me a second to – you know teeth and stuff – but ah – I would love to sleep next to you." I would love to make love to every inch of you…
"Why don't you bring your stuff upstairs – ? The bathroom's big enough –"
Ok, that sounds like an invitation to move up there with her permanently but I'm not ready to assume anything… "You – really mean that?"
"I guess – I should have said that I'd really like it if you stopped sleeping on the sofa all together. I really – I just need for you to be next to me at night. Every night."
I think I've completely stopped breathing here… but… "I'd like that – a lot. But – there's something I need to know. If I ask you a question, will you promise to tell me the truth, no matter what the truth really is?"
"Of course."
(Yeah, she sounds as shaky as I fucking feel right now – but I've got to know… call me a stupid fuckmook, but I've got to know.)
"How bad is it – really? What Guevara did to me – "
"Oh Sheldon – don't go there. You're a handsome, handsome man – "
"What do I really look like, Ange?" I press her. I have to know.
I listen – she takes a breath and lets it out again – and I'm seriously starting to tap dance on razor blades because… because I know it's bad. I've always known it was bad, but I've got to know how she can fucking look at me, knowing what's behind my glasses – what's not there. How can she stomach the sight of me? How can she kiss me…? (And believe me, it's just as mind boggling how Paula could do it, but – but I don't really care about that. She's not my angel – she's not the woman who held me in the dark, the woman who sat with me in a cool tub to bring down my fever – she's not – she's not who I want. She doesn't get to me – she doesn't make me feel normal. Happy. I don't need to know how she could look at me without getting sick – I need to know how Beth does it.)
"Please – " I ask again.
"All right."
And I sit absolutely still when I realize what she's about to do… "Beth – the girls – "
"Are sound asleep," she tells me, sliding the glasses from my face. She sets them on the coffee table and – my stomach does flip flops.
I swallow hard – I really don't want to heave-ho right onto her feet.
"Rule number one, Cowboy." She's smiling when she says it – but – yeah. I'm feeling real fucking queasy over here and it's honestly all I can do to not flinch away when I feel her hands on my face...
With warm and gentle, she cups my cheeks and draws me forward and I feel the most amazingly feather soft kiss on each cheek, and then – then I feel her lips – and they're pressed gently up to that spot right between the – yeah. Right on the bridge of my nose. I can't breathe, I can't even fucking move… I'm sure the room is dark, but even in the dark, she has to be able to see something – some of what I look like… Beth's fingers move over my cheeks and over my brow – then I feel the light touch of her fingertips moving around slowly towards my temples and back down to my cheeks and I realize that she's touching the very edge of – of those fucking gaping holes and my stomach jumps – but nothing comes up. (Small miracle if you think about what I had for dinner…) Very slowly and very, very gently, she traces the outline of my empty eye sockets, all the way around. She's so close, I can feel the warmth of her breath on my face... "The rest is just the way it was before," Beth assures me in a soft, sweet tone; her hands are still on my cheeks, still holding me... still caressing my face. Then she leans in and kisses me on the mouth. It's a sweet, tender kiss I and I respond in kind – barely. I'm having a real hard time here… "Neal never forced himself on me, Cowboy," she tells me, out of the blue, in that same sweet tone. (And that's two for two tonight for out of the blue comments – but at least this time she's coming at me out of the blue with something that's been weighing pretty heavily on my mind since – since I first started to think that just maybe I might possibly have the tiniest bit of a chance with this woman...)
"Anybody else ever force themselves on you?" I ask. I'm not sure what I'll do if she says yes.
"I don't have any weird psychological triggers where sex is concerned, I only get jumpy about being grabbed."
"You know I'm sorry about that, don't you?"
"Of course I do," she runs her hand across my cheek. "I – I didn't really think you'd hurt me – but – I couldn't help the way I reacted. Neal used to grab me and – well, you know the rest."
"I'm sorry. You really were nothing but kind to my sorry ass – and I was nothing but a pain in yours."
She chuckles, just a little, kissing my lips, drawing a kiss from me. "I knew you were hurting, Shel, and not just from the physical wounds. Even before I sort of pieced it together – you really did talk up a storm when you were fevered. But even before that, I mean – I didn't really have to be psychic to know that something really awful had happened to you that day. You had no reason to trust me or anybody else."
"I just don't ever want to do something and have you think of him. I know I can be a little – aggressive –but I don't ever want to hurt you. I don't ever want toscare you."
"Not gonna happen. If nothing else – I gotta just say this and I hope it doesn't bother you, but Neal was kind of a one trick pony in the bedroom. I think I got more variety out of Mr. Straight Laced – Alan. And – I mean that's ok – if that happens to be your thing – one trick done well isn't such a bad thing –"
"No one's ever called me a one trick pony before," I assure her. And I am absolutely not blushing, thank you.
Beth just chuckles some more and draws me into another one of those kisses of hers… "Come on, Cowboy – it's late. We should get some sleep."
"Sleep is optional," I murmur in return, pulling her back into that kiss…
…………………………..
Fragile
Like a baby in your arms
Be gentle with me
I'd never willingly
Do you harm
Apologies
Are all you ever seem to get from me
But just like a child
You make me smile
When you care for me
And you know...
It's a question of lust
It's a question of trust
It's a question of not letting
What we've built up
Crumble to dust
It is all of these things and more
That keep us together
Independence
Is still important for us though (we realize)
It's easy to make
The stupid mistake
Of letting go (do you know what I mean)
My weaknesses
You know each and every one (it frightens me)
But I need to drink
More than you seem to think
Before I'm anyone's
And you know...
It's a question of lust
It's a question of trust
It's a question of not letting
What we've built up
Crumble to dust
It is all of these things and more
That keep us together
Kiss me goodbye
When I'm on my own
But you know that I'd
Rather be home
It's a question of lust
It's a question of trust
It's a question of not letting
What we've built up
Crumble to dust
It is all of these things and more
That keep us together
- Depeche Mode -
(the name of the tune is "Question of Lust")
………………………………………….
And just as a point of useless personal trivia, that was the song my husband and I had played as our 'first dance as a couple song' at our wedding reception. And (this honestly just occurred to me) entirely inadvertently, the first dance ended up being that 1000 miles song that played at the beginning of Benny and Joon, (you know, another Depp film). It wasn't intentional or anything, the DJ had no idea that everyone, including the bride, would screw the formalities and rush for the dance floor for that one, before the "official" first dance of the evening… ;)