Addendum 6.6 – "Savor the Veal 'pt. 4'"
May 1993 – Henry Hudson Pkwy, Bronx, NY
All of Angela's weight seemed to pool into her forward tipping head.
Tony started breathing faster, "I know maybe that wasn't exactly my place, but-"
As the seconds slugged by, an instant and convoluted need to cover herself started to order itself into separate emotions, and the first one came out loudly.
"'Wasn't your place!?'"
"Angela, you wouldn't talk to me! Your mother got me thinkin' I needed more'a the story-"
My mother!?
"to make a judgement about you. And she was right!"
Angela was so hot, sweat was coming out everywhere.
Tony whipped his pleading palm up to her, "and you had gone off to California without tellin' me, so I couldn't get it from you, and-"
Her left fingers grounded on her fiery forehead, and she tested the truth in the air, "You spoke with people - with Grant - about me…"
She looked up to see Tony's severely hesitant nod.
Her hand moved to cover her mouth, but it didn't stop her from gasping, "Tony. I've never been so- How could you do that to me!?"
All these years. All these-
As long as there remained no contact, she considered herself a potential and probable success in Grant's head, and she'd nursed this mysterious and taboo invention at her own convenience and trusted its ability to rescue more than she did any real life person.
She respected Grant. She knew, even with all his own charming demons, he had some pretty significant ducks in a row, and she'd wanted him to think of her as someone who'd proceeded through this last decade maturing as much personally as she had professionally. Now, he knew the truth. Her fiancé had muckraked the present as much as the past, and her fantasy of Grant's fantasy was popped.
But even if Grant were left with the most glowing vision of her - if she, too, were a past he wouldn't be ashamed of – Tony taking the liberty he did would still feel like she'd been stripped. She had been. It was her life to divulge, and he had no claim on that without her permission.
It wasn't that she wanted to be with Grant. But her memory of them felt like, not just a questionable sanctuary, but a precious stepping stone in her journey out of this mired life, and she didn't trust anyone to see it that way without the tender coaxing of her own perspective. She didn't trust anyone with her story at all. Every time she'd tried to let someone in, the places with which she'd been the most careful had gotten bandied around like her favorite unmentionables in a panty raid.
"Angela, listen to me, maybe I didn't have a right to go there, but-" he exhaled sharply. "I had to- …I had to know!"
And for some reason, it was always her fault.
"I knew you didn't believe cheating was right, so I needed to understand-"
She couldn't take it anymore.
Grabbing the doorhandle, she yanked it open.
"Angela!"
It sounded like Greg's voice, and she was no more interested in listening this time.
She shoved the door into the soft branches of a tree only far enough to scootch her slim self out.
"Angela, please!"
She couldn't look at him. She didn't want him to see her. She didn't want anyone to see her.
'It was just a man, Carwen.'
Angela's face felt so hot. She tried to go toward the back of the jeep, since the door had made a way for her in that direction. But as she ducked through the poking branches like they were the very expectations of her yenta mother, she found the path toward the light in front more promising.
Sucking up as much snot as she could, she pushed her way through the brambles, coughing on the rest, while the ancient memory of her mother's betrayal continued to intrude.
'That's why the poor thing was a wreck.'
Tony had hopped out his side and gone around back to where he'd seen her go, "Angela! Come on!"
The humiliating sidebar conversations she'd never outgrown flurried through her head as she progressed but mere feet from the predatory haunt of Newark toward the whimsical dragonflies barrel rolling in Tony's headlights.
"Angela!" Tony yelled from somewhere behind her.
As if on cue, Michael's pervy crewmember showed up, too - 'My turn!' - and she remembered Michael rationalizing the leak because she'd left him with no other option.
That's what her mother had done with Brian.
That's what Tony had done with Grant.
All of them loved her, and they'd all exposed her. Decades between her willingness to open up and decades between her reasons not to. Coincidence?
Gulping the products of her own body, she collapsed to her knees in front of the jeep as Tony fought his way through the last of the branches on her side.
"Angela!"
Seeing her in front of the bumper, his frightened face turned harsh, "What are you doing!?"
He dropped down, too, and grabbed her shoulders, "Angela, the truck's still on! You could get hurt!"
She glared up at him and twisted her shoulders from his grip. "I could get hurt!?"
Tony smacked a mosquito on the side of his neck in further annoyance, "Angela, I didn't mean t-"
She didn't let her insistent coughs keep her from crying, and the bits of gravel grinding through her nylons only aided her distraught appeal.
"Do you know why I don't tell anyone anything? Because of this. This right here, Tony. Anytime I need someone to keep something secret, it gets blabbed. I'm not safe. I'm not safe anywhere but in my own head. And that makes me crazy and pushes me away from everyone. So, what am I supposed to do?"
Tony was still squinting as he scratched at the dead mosquito's point of entry, "What is it about you you think is so secret? What? Someone is gonna find out you're a person?"
He was so right, she nearly slapped him. Instead, she just dropped her forehead to the pavement between them and let herself sob against it.
A person isn't enough. A person doesn't protect me.
They never have.
His face softened at her hunched posture, and he let out a long sigh. Slowly, he moved to huddle over her shaking back. She felt him hold her tight as his mouth got close to her ear.
"I don't know what it is you're so afraid of, but this was no locker room session, Angela. I love you; I want you to be my wife," he squeezed tighter and shook her a little for emphasis. "I didn't ditch the fanciest job I'm - apparently - ever gonna get so I can use you for something quick and gross, and I didn't drive hours out of my way to show off to some guy I didn't like in the first place."
She let out an involuntary little laugh and sniffed as she tried to catch her breath. She hated him for being so thoughtless. She hated that that still didn't stop her from loving him, from wanting him to know all about all this stuff she was so mad he knew, and still want to be with her.
Keeping a tight hug of herself, she let her creeping fingers find his arms and hold on.
"I went cuz I was itchin' for answers. Maybe I should'nt've. Maybe I should've waited and whatever -trusted you more. Okay, fine. But I was too stupid to do that, and I'm not sorry I went. I needed to hear what he told me."
Angela's head slowly raised at his costly admission, and she felt him let her move upward.
They sat on their knees on the side of the road, watching each other breathe as best they could. Her mascara hadn't been right for more than an hour, but its residue sided the new streaks down her blotchy, snot smeared cheeks. Mosquitoes started to hone in on their cooling sweat, and Tony's surprising patience brushed a few from her face.
"And honest to God, Angela, even if I was still as bad as I was with Marie, that guy isn't. I think you know that."
She squinted at his generous estimation. I thought he didn't like Grant.
Gulping a silent sob, she didn't drop tear-covered eye contact as she, too, stepped out on a limb.
"You're not bad, Tony. I am. That's my point. I'm weak, and no one wants me. I don't want anyone to know that. That's why I do everything I can to control the rhetoric."
Tony's face squinted, "What!?"
With a firm look of decision, he grabbed her elbow, "Get up. Right now." He pulled her to her feet. "I don't what you just said, but it sounded like defeat. You are not defeated, Angela. In everything in your life, you. got. up."
Her head tilted at him, trying to understand his confidence in her. She'd never understood that. She'd presented her whole life as a meticulously calculated demonstration of her abilities, and this man had been pronouncing it from the day he walked in off the street.
Tony pulled at her elbow and walked them to his side of the car.
"Come on. Get in," he nodded as he yanked open the door. Still baffled, she brushed away a few mosquitoes from his forehead and absently obeyed.
She scooted to her side of the car and waited quietly until he got settled. Then, she spoke up for herself, trying her best to look at him.
"It hurts when people talk about me, Tony. You act like I don't have to defend myself, but I do."
Tony wiped a palm down his face and took a breath, "Look, Angela. I don't know who you're talking about. Maybe some people talked bad aboutcha," he shrugged. "Who hasn't had that happen? But me and Mona, Grant and Ned-"
Ned? …Oh, brother.
"– we all like you."
Her face lost some tension, but she didn't smile. She was still cold from being outside, from being exposed, and her whole body ordered a shivery breath.
"And these things that you think make you 'weak' – actually, make you likeable. I mean, you're a powerhouse; you could steamroll any suit in your path – I've seen it, your mom's seen it, Grant's sure seen it. It's cool and yeah, we all stare atcha - how could ya not? I don't want you to lose that! It's you! …But that's kinda from a distance, ya know? That girl might be hard to get close to, and that's what we're all trying to do. We all want you. You're not just a boss babe. You eat fudge at midnight, and the whole time, you're worried about zippin' your pants in the morning."
He gently took her hand and kissed her chilled fingers. Examining them, her brushed his thumb over a knuckle.
"You bite your nails."
Her eyebrows dipped up again, and he looked in her eyes.
"It took you three hours to hit a slow lob in stick ball."
Angela allowed a smile this time - Jerk.
"And, woman, you let your mind run circles around you."
Her smile dropped as his picked up.
"I mean, I want you to be impressed with me, too," he popped up his never-not-impressive bicep into a quick Egyptian flex, and she couldn't help but laugh.
Dropping his arm, he smiled, "But you can still talk to Mrs. Rossini about me. That old crow's been two shakes away from boxin' my ears, and I'm scared to death of her. But I know she's on my side. Don't you know that about us? Really? Even if what we say hurts? Don't you know that?"
Her eyes rounded out. I don't know. Why would they hurt me if they love me? Why wouldn't they protect the places where I'm scared?
Tony didn't let up, "Why don't you save your fight for the suits and let the people who love you talk about you all they want? We do want you. We aren't tryin' to hurt you."
She was extremely confused. What he said made sense, but she didn't want to hurt like that. Was that unreasonable? This was an old and deep wound, and she didn't imagine its origin.
But then Tony quickly amended, "Except for Grant. You can't be close to him anymore."
She let out a little laugh, in spite of herself. She didn't want Grant.
"He's married."
But at that, her eyebrows went up, "What?" and a worried look covered Tony's face just as quickly.
She had the presence of mind to put out a hand to Tony's shoulder, "I don't want Grant, Tony." She'd wanted it to be reassuring, but the fresh tears covering her eyes seemed to inhibit her intentions.
Rubbing his shoulder, she tried to explain, "I don't even know him anymore. I'd barely known him before, off the job." She shrugged as a few tears fell into her apologetic smile, "I'd loved the idea of him - the swift, encompassing rescue that cost me nothing. But it wasn't real. I mean, we weren't dating long enough to hurt each other."
Tony's face scrunched, "Rescue?"
"Yeah." She took a deep breath, hoping with everything in her he wouldn't leave, "You know how I told you when things got bad with Michael, I'd think about Brian reciting me his poetry, how worthwhile I felt that he'd bother to do that? And things didn't seem so bad in my head anymore?"
"But you found out that was just a fantasy, remember?" Tony tried cautiously. "Brian's an idiot."
Angela nodded, smiling. "Yes, but for a long time, in my head, he wasn't. He was my hero. I did that with Grant, too. I let him be my hero."
"…With Michael?" Tony hoped.
"Yes. And with you."
Tony shut his eyes slowly and held them there.
She squeezed his shoulder. "I shouldn't do that, Tony. I know it's not real. But I didn't have the confidence until recently to tell you how much you've been hurting me. So, I let Grant tell me that in my head."
Tony's eyes opened, and a harsh look took over his face, "Recently? Like after I gave up my other options?"
What?
…Wait.
His words started to sting, and so did her eyes.
Oh, no. It's true.
She hadn't begun to point out any of her problems with his behavior until she'd had the upper hand. She hadn't been consciously manipulative, but the facts were the facts. She'd only felt safe to open up with Tony after he'd given up everything for her.
Michael had never done that for her, even as he'd claimed to have. He'd taken the desk job, but made sure he was still qualified to leave her.
Angela had never done it for Michael. As sad as she was about it, at this point, she was glad for that.
But she'd never done it for Tony, even though he gave her credit for it. She had kept her business operating, retaining headship, while she was in Iowa. She hadn't needed to completely cut off her professional life for just one year.
Tony was the only one who had given it all up, and that's when she'd started to pinpoint.
"I'm sorry, Tony," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to use any leverage over you."
Tears were now covering his own eyes, "I want you to tell me the truth. I want you to tell me if I'm hurting you and put me back in my place, because I don't want to hurt you!"
Hurt snarled her nose for her. Fessing up was one thing, but this truth was multifaceted, and she recoiled instinctively.
"Well, it was hard to tell for a while, there, with you laughing at my chest and all!"
Tony rolled his eyes into a deep exhale. He put out his hand, "You're right, you're right…"
Damn it.
She hated winning. She didn't want a power struggle; she didn't want both of them to lose.
"I'm sorry, Tony," she breathed. "If you'd been daydreaming about an old girlfriend when I'd hurt you, I'd be hurt, too."
Tony's rounded eyes froze, and she cocked her head.
"Do you? Like, when things are distant with me?"
It took a while for his face to start moving again, but eventually he made a reluctant sigh, "I'd say it's more of an all-the-time opportunity, not so much because of how things are with us. …But yeah, that doesn't help."
Her eyebrows scrunched.
He sighed again, "I haven't always shoved those thoughts away very fast, because they didn't mean anything to me. It wasn't about someone else; just me feelin' better about myself."
Her eyes narrowed, "Not about someone else… How is that not about someone else?"
"Because I don't know them or care about them. There's less than zero chance anything would happen with them," he shrugged.
Her jaw was now substantially set, "So, it's fine."
"No. It's not nice. I'm sorry I hurt you. I don't want to do that."
"Tony-"
"But they're not a real opportunity – just some stupid thing flyin' around my head until the next thing catches my attention. They're not real! They're not better than you!"
"Better than me…" Her glare was morphing back to confusion.
"No! Not by a long shot!" He picked up a glare of his own, "Not like Grant."
Huh?
"Damn it, Angela. You gonna pick someone to fantasize about, and it's gotta be him!?"
He smashed his head back into his headrest and drifted wistfully, "I thought I'd always be competing against the old me with you - the second baseman for the Cards, the professor at Wells… I didn't know I was competing against Grant: God's gift to women, sports, and money!"
"Now, hold on-"
He turned his head on the headrest to glare at her, "Angela, don't you get it? He is better than me! He is smarter. He's more mature. He's a better coach. He's a better husband. He's a better provider. He's taller-"
"I don't love him."
Tony stopped ranting.
"Not like that. I don't want to share my life with him, and it sounds like he doesn't want that with me, either?"
He slowly shook his head, and she smiled, "Then what are you worried about?"
He swallowed, "…I told you he was married, and you cried."
A self-deprecating laugh escaped her with a shrug, "Tony, I used to want him. He is a great guy, and there was a time I was so desperate, I would've given my whole world for him to tell me, 'yes'."
Tony's face fell.
"But he didn't want me badly enough to even let that be a possibility. He just wanted fun, even though I know he felt deeper things for me. When you said he was willing to marry someone else, it felt like another confirmation: even if people love me, they don't want me."
He looked up at her.
"It's not that I want him now; I'm grateful things turned out like they did. I just want to be… 'wantable'."
He let several seconds go by, just staring at her, and it felt like he was trying to fish for pretense. She hoped with everything in her that he could hear the truth.
Lifting a slow hand to her cheek, he held it in open annoyance, "I want you."
Still?
She started to tear again, and she covered his hand with hers, holding tightly.
"You promise you won't leave me for him?" he let out a nervous laugh. "Honestly, I couldn't blame you."
She didn't laugh at all.
"I'm not going to leave you for anyone, Tony."
He dropped his hand to the seat, but she still held on.
"My memory of Grant is a soothing balm when I'm hurt, but I need to stop it because it isn't relevant anymore. It isn't true. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I also don't want to hurt with anybody but you. We just need to tell each other when we do it."
"Yes, please."
She nodded, "I'll try. Thank you for caring."
He nodded back, and she pushed further, "And I need you to not be zinging your ego every time a tiny waist twists past you, either."
"Agreed. I'm sorry, Angela. I might be overpromising here, but I swear, I'll try, too. And magazines are stupid; I'm sorry." He shook his head, "I never wanted them. I've only really wanted you since I met you."
She gave him a bewildered smile, believing him but not without pushing through a couple levels of well-established doubt.
He shrugged, "I tried to feel better about myself, thinkin' about, or chasin' other women… but it was bullshit."
"It's a power," Angela whispered.
"Yeah…"
"I don't want to use that power against you, either, Tony. I really don't."
His brows scrunched at her.
Aw, shit. Here goes.
"Tony, I've been doing that for a while."
Relaxing, Tony scoffed, "Well, duh. You've been workin' me over for years. I've never seen a woman with so many backless dresses."
He settled his substantial shoulders back into the seat and whipped out a swaggering smile, "'Course, I use it against you, too."
Her gaze drifted to those shoulders which she was, even now, only slightly less worried about losing. Allowing herself to admire them, she took a breath, "Tony, I went on a date with someone when I was mad at you."
Tony's cocky expression halted, as did his breath. "What?"
Her eyes drifted to his, and she forced herself to keep talking. "You remember that weekend you were sure I was sleeping with someone with gigantic pants?"
Tony didn't even blink.
She swallowed, "Well, I don't know if you remember, but we were fighting about how confrontational and abrasive you get when you're frustrated? You lash out at me, at others, and I was just sick of it! So, me, and my mother, and- …and Sam-"
Tony squinted.
"Remember? We all went for that weekend getaway last year?" She swallowed again, "Well, there was this guy there."
Tony was now in a full glare, but she sped forward.
"Tony, he looked just like you, except that he had this hideous mustache - seriously, it's not a good look for you," she tried to laugh.
Tony didn't.
"Well, anyway, I was still so mad about you yelling at everyone all the time." Her face hardened, "I have had enough of being yelled at for no reason, and I have no interest in harboring you doing that to anyone else!" before it shrank back. "But Tony… we played tennis together and had a lunch by ourselves."
Tony's little voice betrayed his gigantic scowl, "You were mad at me? So, you left and went on a date with another guy…" Then he got loud. "- another guy who's almost as good looking as I am!?"
She laughed before she could stop herself.
"I'm sorry," Tony mocked. "Is this funny!?"
She sniffed and shook her head, trying to regain her sincerity. She meant it.
"No. No, Tony, it's not. That's why I'm telling you this: I'm sorry. When I'm mad at you, I think it'd be best if I stay far, far away from other men, because I have this proclivity to use my power against you."
"Proclivity? …You sayin' you do this a lot!?"
"No! No, there was no one else - and it was just a lousy meal, and a… painfully boring tennis match. I just mean, I have a tendency to use sex as a weapon, and I don't want to!"
Tony stewed for a while, then he glared up at her, "Mona knew about this?"
Angela nodded nervously.
He slapped the heel of his hand to his forehead. "Of course, she'd be for it! She's the queen of sex power! She thinks everything's harmless! She didn't even want me telling you about Kathleen!"
What?
"…But Sam? Sam saw you do this!?"
Angela sighed. He was right about her mother. She would've tried to keep Kathleen under wraps… like she'd tried to do with her own affair - not that that's the kind of thing that should necessarily be broadcast outside a marriage, but Angela was starting to realize her mother felt herself capable of deciding who gets to know anything like that about anyone, regardless of 'shoulds'.
That felt familiar, too.
Now, Tony's indignance? Angela was having a difficult time not bringing up the pizza girls again, but she needed this to be separate. It was worth that, in its own right, and she breathed through his anger.
Unable to wrangle it all, she merely nodded.
"My own daughter!" he shot his hand out and glared out the windshield.
She nodded, and whispered, "Sex is a very powerful thing, Tony. I'm sorry I taught Sam how to use it selfishly."
He looked over at her, but it wasn't any softer.
"It may not help much," Angela tried quietly, "but she was probably fine with it because 1.) she knew how in love I was with you and probably thought it was harmless – like I did-"
His glare sharpened.
"and 2.) because she'd just gotten married and was probably reveling in the power, herself. She's not against you, either, Tony."
Tony's eyes did start to mellow, then, but he didn't blink.
Eventually, he sighed and looked back out to the darkness in front of them, "I guess, that's how you felt when I had all my buddies over for poker and let that girl sit on me, huh?" He turned a defeated face toward her, "That was in front of Jonathan."
She started to nod gratefully, but he cut back in sharply.
"Damn! That's low, Angela. Low!"
Angela made a flat smile of acknowledgment. What else was there to do?
Then Tony started to squint, "Wait a minute. The gigantic pants? …That was the weekend I was so worried you were seeing someone else, and you laughed at me when I called you out on it. And you had just gone on a date with someone? Someone super hot!?"
"Tony! Okay, that was lousy of me – arrogant, really. I'm sorry. But I mean it, this guy was nowhere near as attractive as you are."
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, Angela. I won a contest I was never supposed to be in!"
Angela tried to soften and reach for his hand again, but he pulled it back.
"And you're still laughing at me! You still think this is a joke! It's a real person, Angela! A real person, who - I promise you - wanted you, too!"
"I didn't want him! And you're right. I had no right to see if he was better than you just because I was pissed, hurt, and-" she made an acknowledging nod to the side, "simultaneously curious at the freakish similarities between the two of you in everything but temperament - I'm sorry. I'd be scared out of my mind if you'd started going on dates with other women, no matter what they looked like."
She snatched his runaway hand and held it firmly. Thankfully, he didn't pull away.
But he did hold his glare, "Did he touch you?"
Her head made a staggered tip to the side, "I think... a- a few times, we did that-"
"We!?"
"Yeah, I mean, I don't remember everything that happened, but-"
Tony somehow managed to look even angrier.
"Tony, it was just normal shaking hands, arm... touching... stuff. It was nothing!"
He leaned in closer, "Clearly, nothing to you."
"Oh, please, Tony," she huffed. "You wouldn't have thought twice about touching some woman in a grocery store that much. It was nothing! Really!"
Tony kept breathing, but again, blinking was another story.
Sighing, Angela gave another side nod, "Tony, I didn't have a right to find out that no one is as good for me as you are, but that's exactly why I was laughing at you back then, not because I enjoy you worrying over a serious contender. It turns out, he wasn't one, even though I had no right to look into that. But he was nowhere near as attractive as you are – because of who you are. You being some weenie pushover, with or without poorly clumped facial hair, is not who I want to be with. I want you."
His face was loosening, and she pushed through.
"That Italian passion that infuriates me is also the passion that attracts me to you. It's sexy to give a damn. Yes, you still annoy me with it, but I wouldn't trade you for anyone else. Not an exact lookalike. Not Grant. I want you. I want the man who knows ugly things about me and still wants to be with me."
A gentle half-smile tipped on his face.
"I want the man who was strong enough to be a housekeeper for a female executive. I want the man who was strong enough to go back to college at the same time his daughter was. I want the man who was strong enough to leave a prestigious career because he knew that's not why I wanted him. He knew that's not why I needed him."
Tony's expression instantly hollowed out, "What?"
Angela didn't move at all.
"…You don't need me to have a 'prestigious career'?"
Still, she didn't say anything.
"You're okay with being married to your housekeeper?"
"Tony, I want you to be happy. I want you to do what fulfills you, creatively. If that's making the home that made me fall in love with you in the first place, fine. If that's teaching – at any level - then I'm all for it!"
"…but you don't need me to."
Speak the truth, Angela.
As bravely as she could, she shook her head.
"You don't need me."
At that, she interjected, "Yes. I do."
"You don't need me to provide for you."
"Tony, let's get this straight. I know you came from a different culture than I did, but did you really look down on the women who gave up any other future for themselves than to make a home for their husbands and families?"
His expression was still tight, and she proceeded sadly.
"Maybe you did. Maybe you thought the men were bringing way more to the pile. But I don't. I'm just good at it, and I love it. I'm good at bringing in the money. I've worked my entire life to be at the top of my game, and I suck ass at making a home. That's where you came in. That's where you became indispensable to me. If that's not where you want to stay, Tony, I love you. I love everything about what makes you, you. If you want to work outside our home, I will bend over backwards to make up the difference. I will do a terrible job, but I don't care. I just want you to be happy, and I want you to be with me. But no… I don't need whatever money or titles you bring to the pile."
And yet, nothing she'd said had moved Tony's face, and a bitter voice proceeded, "It was just a junior college anyway, right? And while we're at it, Ridgemont isn't as good as Yale and Harvard, either, huh?"
"Shit, Tony. What do you want from me? Do you really need me to coddle your ego with lies? How about you being damn proud of what you've accomplished, regardless of how that stacks up against the rest of the world? I'm proud of you!"
His face still hadn't budged, and something started to click for her.
Trying a new approach, she glared at him, "What about me!?"
At that, Tony's glare, again, twisted in confusion.
Popping up her bicep, Angela flexed it as hard as she could. "Are you not going to say I'm as good of an athlete as you? I've been working on my fitness for 20 years, Tony. I've been fighting against a lifelong food addiction, I've never been taught how to exercise, and I still became the captain of my volleyball team!"
At his glare and start of rebuttal, she cut back in, "-That didn't count. You never gave me the time of day when you were coaching us. I've worked my body hard! Do you have any idea how many miles I've run in my life!? Are you really going to be so cruel as to say I'm not as strong as you? That I may never be!? Why can't you give me my due!?"
Tony kept glaring, "That volleyball team, Angela? Really? You think I'm that far behind you, professionally?"
"I don't think it's comparable, Tony. I think you have a natural inclination toward fitness and health – an inclination you've worked your ass off to cultivate - and regardless of my own fight in the same direction, I will never be as impressive of an athlete as you."
"You're a woman! You're not supposed to be!"
"You're right, and I'm not threatened by that, because you don't use that against me. You protect me with your strength."
His whole body looked like it was finally starting to relax.
"That's a gift you bring to the pile, Tony, and you have many others. Money is a gift I can bring. You really think you're supposed to be as impressive an earner?"
Just like that, all his defenses were back up, "Yes!"
So, she kept up the barrage, "Regardless of my circumstances, education, and experience? Regardless of our living arrangements? Of our love? You really want to be the one bringing home equal or greater bacon because you can't see your value otherwise?"
Tony's glare and sharpness disappeared, but he was no more happy, "Yes."
She scooted close to him and forced a gentle palm to his hell-bent cheek. Showing as much sincerity as she could, she offered, "Tony, just because I don't need your paycheck to survive doesn't mean I don't need you."
Her hand fell to his leg, "You should've seen me these past two months. Even if we'd had a decent housekeeper, even with my mother and son right there with me," her voice softened with her eyes, "I still would've had the hardest time finding the strength to even want to succeed. Now that I've tasted you, Tony, I don't want anything else. You're who I love. You're who I want to impress. You're who I want to do all this for. I want my best friend back. I want you to be brave enough to yell at me or kiss me," she smiled as she dropped her gaze to his mouth, "…as the situation demands."
Laughing to himself, he shook his head and returned her smile. He leaned in, and those soft lips of his instantly melded with her spirit. This was who she wanted to be with, and she was grateful it felt mutual.
Letting go, he looked into her eyes and yelled, "I hate that!"
She laughed and brought her elbows up to rest on his shoulders. Licking her thumb, she swiped one of his ruffled eyebrows in the right direction.
"Please be with me, Tony." She looked into his eyes, "And please don't ever tell yourself that I don't need you. It's a fucking lie."
He worked his arms in the tight quarters so that they snugged around her and smiled into another tender kiss, "I love it when you cuss. You're nothing like what I thought I wanted. What the hell did I know?"
She smiled brightly.
He sighed, "All this time, I've been scared to death that I needed you more than you needed me. I think that's why I've been such a jerk."
Angela froze. Just like me and Michael.
He tossed a nod to the side, "Well, that and me making everything worse with Kathleen… had to pretend that wasn't true."
She pressed her lips together and ran sober fingers through his hair and along his neck.
Yup - makes sense to me, too.
Sighing, she looked away only long enough to gather her courage, "Tony, I need to make myself 100 percent clear:"
Seeing she held his attention, she gave it a go, "I need you at least as much as you need me, and I'm just going off your word that you need me. Because the way I see it, I'm at your mercy. You uphold me. You inspire me. And I was so miserable and lost without you these last two months, my mother made even more fun of me than she normally does. I was pathetic, because I hadn't been honest with you about anything, and I was broken. Tony, I am broken without you."
Tony blinked and stared at her for a moment.
Then, his small smile closed in for yet another kiss, "You're not without me."
