GAVIN
lhad to admit, my plan to bring Madison around to understanding slowly, without feeling pressured by anyone personally was working. She sat on my couch, sunken in, with a concerned frown on her face for the first two sessions. I had rearranged my living room to focus everything on the television, the couch positioned opposite the TV, armchairs at the ends of the oblong room.
Her feet rested on the edge of the coffee table, knees bouncing, as the session shifted to the next speaker. We had eaten dinner already; the gourmet grilled cheese had hit the spot. The wrappers and empty drinks still lay scattered on the coffee table. Still despite how good the evening was going according to my plans; I couldn't help but feel sorr for Madison as her world unraveled one session at a time. She seemed to sink farther into the couch with each speaker.
“Need a tissue?” The tears rolling down her cheeks were an obvious indicator that she did, but I knew she was fiercely independent, so I waited. When she nodded, biting on her thumbnail, I hopped up and hurried to the bathroom to grab a roll of toilet paper. I was suddenly aware of how my apartment was less than welcoming to a woman. I didn’t even have a box of tissues.
When I returned, Madison was sitting with her legs curled up to her chest, her face leaning on her knees. She had muted the television and the remote lay on the sofa cushion next to her. I sat down next to her gently, keeping an appropriate distance, and cleared my throat. She looked up at me, took the tissues, and started sobbing. content.
My gut instinct was to draw her into my chest and hold her there until she was calm, but she wasn’t mine yet. I had t be patient with her heart, or she would never trust me. So, I laid a hand on her back and spoke in soothing tones. “It's okay, Madii. I'm here. I know it's heavy.” She wiped her eyes then hugged her knees again, sobbing as she curled up. For about I5 minutes we sat while she let the damn burst. I wondered how long it had been since she cried like this. She shed a few tears here and there in the hospital room, but not like this. Not like the night we met, when I hat told her and Drew's parents that he wasn't going to make it.
She looked frail sitting there on my couch in an oversized t-shirt and yoga pants. Her eyes red-rimmed from crying st much, her nose puffy from all the blowing, she looked up at me before wiping her face again.
“Is it true?” Her lip quivered as she spoke. She wanted me to tell her none of what she was hearing was true. I could see the desperation in her eyes; that alone broke my heart. “Is what they say true?”
“They are the leading experts in this field. I was invited to this symposium because it is meant to offer the latest in science and statistics for patients like Drew.” Saying his name aloud when I knew how I felt about her left a bitter taste in my mouth. Guilt played at my heart, knowing I wanted her to be mine, but she still had not let go of the past yet.
“So, it is true?” she whimpered, crying more. The tears seem to never stop, sluicing down her cheeks and soaking int her shirt.
“Yes, it's true.”
I was ready for the onslaught of emotion, the wailing, and the tears. What I hadn't been prepared for was how she would dive into my chest, wrap her arms around me, and cling to me. Her breathing was choppy and erratic as she sobbed, so I held her, relaxing against the back of the couch.
She smelled like vanilla and citrus, and her body fit snugly against mine. She grabbed handfuls of my t-shirt, almost as if she were pleading with me to make the truth not hurt so bad, to stop the pain. But the only thing I could do was be there for her, to listen or advise.
When she calmed and sat up, I offered her the roll of toilet paper with a grimace. “Sorry I was ill-prepared. I don’t really buy tissues. I think it’s a guy thing.”
She smiled through the tears, her puffy eyes offering a melancholy acceptance of my apology. “I should be the one apologizing. I came over here to prove a point, and all I did was end up wasting your time.”
“Prove a point? To whom? What point? Madison, this was not a waste of my time.” I straightened on the couch and turned to face her.
She dabbed at her eyes again, wincing when she touched the tender spot on her nose. I really should have gotten tissues. The toilet paper had made her nose raw from blowing.
“To my mom, to Alice, to myself. I don't know.”
“What point are you trying to prove?” I could tell she was feeling awkward with a wad of tissues in her hand, so I helc my hand out. She cringed but laid the used wadded-up toilet paper into my palm. I carried them to the trash can in the kitchen as I listened to her.
“You started this whole thing when you suggested I go do things, get out and live my life. Alice laid it on pretty thick that day. Then my mom... well Mom just always lays it on thick. She thinks I should have moved on and gotten married to someone else by now. She doesn’t understand—no one does.”
I sat down on the edge of the couch next to her and took her hand. “I do, Madii. I understand completely.”
She looked down at her fingers, but she didn’t pull her hand away. I wasn’t about to pressure her because whatever she felt was a mountain of emotions more than she could handle already. But God did I want to hold her again. Watching her hurting wrenched my heart. It made me want to destroy everything that could possibly cause her pain. “I know.” Timidly she looked up at me through damp lashes. “Thank you for being a good friend. You've been so understanding and even this—“she gestured at the TV which was still playing the next lecture “—was special. I know you have been saying these same things to me for weeks and I just haven't been listening. Drew might not ever wake up. Even if he does, he may have brain damage. And Alice is right; he wouldn't want me to delay my whole life just waiting for him. I just don’t know how to move on.”
The urge to pull her to my chest was nearly unbearable. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat and placed her tiny hand between mine, carefully rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb. I didn’t know what to say. If I opene my mouth, I knew I would make a fool of myself, but it was almost like I could taste it. She was mine; she just had to come to that realization on her own, and God did I want her to.
“Maybe I should go...” She rose to leave, and I followed suit, standing next to her. Her petite frame next to me made her seem all the more helpless. “Thank you for the invitation, but I can’t handle even one more lecture. I think I get the point now.”
Madison removed her hand from my grip and headed toward the door. I didn't want her to leave, but I also resolved to not pressure her about anything. I didn’t want anyone to say I had manipulated her. It had to be her to decide tha my friendship or companionship was what she wanted. So, I followed her to the door, opening it and leaning on it as she stood there in the open doorway.
The porch light shone down on her tired eyes, flecks of deep color—almost purple—visible in her black hair. The way she looked up at me, with a longing for something different, it tugged at my heart. I reached up to push a stray hair behind her ear and she caught my hand, holding it against her chest.
“He used to do that...”
“He was a good man, Madii.”
She closed her eyes and stood there with my hand pressed to her cheek. I could see her fighting back the tears, her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. When she opened her eyes, I saw something different there. Her eyes weren't the eyes of a grieving woman. They pleaded with me, but not to make him come back. They pleaded to me to make her heart stop aching.
She stepped closer to me, back into the threshold of the house. I could see her chest pounding, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't. So I backed up, giving her space to come back into the house. As I did, I moved my hand away from her face.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, unsure what she was thinking.
“Yeah. But Alice is right. I need to stop running away and hiding every time I feel something. My mom is right; I need to move on—I just don’t know how. I don’t know what it looks like. I don’t know how you just move on when you love someone, and they just disappear on you. And I don’t know what the hell I'm doing right now, except that I like you. . lot”
“You are one of the sweetest guys I've ever met. You haven't once tried to push me to be different, or to change me. I know you like me—you've made that clear. But even in all that, you've just been so amazing. Gavin, I...”
Before I knew what was happening, Madison locked her fingers behind my neck and stood on her tiptoes, pulling me to her height. Her lips touched mine lightly; they were soft and supple.
I hooked an arm around her waist and did what I'd been craving to do all evening. Her body pressed against mine like a hand in a glove. As her lips parted, I pushed my tongue against them, testing her to see what she was wanting. And when I felt her back away, her hands releasing my neck, I pulled away.
“Wow... I can’t believe I just did that.” If her face hadn't already been bright red from crying, I was certain it would be red from embarrassment.
“Don’t be,” I told her, pushing the same stray hair off her face again. “I've been waiting to do that all night, but I know you are going through something really horrible right now. I need you to understand I really care about you, and I won't push you at all. If all you need is a friend, then let me be the best friend you've ever had. Okay?”
She smiled at me, a genuine warmth emanating from her face. “Okay, well then, I don’t want to go home yet. So, can stay a bit longer? Maybe we can share a glass of wine? Or a beer? Not sure what you drink.”
“Beer it is.” Adrenaline surged through my body as I shut the door, turning the deadbolt. My groin pulsed with desire but I tempered the feeling by heading straight to the fridge for our drinks. Madison settled back on the couch and when I returned, she had pulled her hair up, knotting it on top of her head. She was stunning. I couldnt control the arousal in my body, but I tried.
I sat down next to her and handed her the beer, which she sipped carefully for a second. Then she took a deep breath and tipped it up, downing the contents in a few gulps. I chuckled at her. Either she was as nervous as I was, ol she was preparing to let her inner vixen out. Either way, she was everything I wanted, and I hoped she felt the same about me.