Lost

by Sarah Ann Walker

  Looking at him as I stood up, I realized Peter looked like an angel to me. He was handsome, and wonderful, and he was holding blue roses in his hand and my heart melted at the sight of him surrounded by snow outside through the lightly tinted glass.

  Standing and walking to him absolutely everything on my body hurt. Even as I reached for the door handle my head hurt, but all I wanted was to get to Peter.

  Opening the door, I whispered, “Peter...” as he quickly pulled me into his arms.

  Holding me he said, “Let me get you home, baby,” to my relief.

  “Thank you. Are those for me?”

  “Of course,” he smiled down at me, as he walked me to my car.

  And struggling to walk, I moaned, “I'm really tired.”

  “I know. But I'll get you home, and I'll take care of you until you're well, Sophie.”

  “Thank you,” I choked up suddenly as he helped me into my seat.

  When Peter ran around to join me in the car, I couldn't hold myself up anymore. Bending my aching legs onto the seat and turning my body, I laid across the emergency brake to put my head in his lap. Lying there, he absently stroked my hair as I released all the tension I had felt for the last 2 1/2 hours.

  “I did it. I inputted everyone, and I wasn't late, and everything's okay,” I said wiping a tear that escaped my eyes as he smiled down at me while driving.

  We arrived back at my apartment and I spent the next few hours sleeping on the couch beside Peter. He had undressed me and put me in loose pajamas, and he had even rubbed my neck before I fell asleep. He was calm and quiet and so sweet to me, I trusted him totally during that time between us.

  Every time he asked me if I needed anything, or simply wrapped a blanket tighter around me I became more than sure he was my forever.

  Later that night Peter finally convinced me to eat soup and a turkey sandwich, which was hard. I ate normally in general unless I was sick, then I wanted nothing to do with food. But Peter calmly persisted by lifting the bowl, or picking up the sandwich while not even looking at me, so I couldn't argue or refuse his attempts.

  At 10:00, a CSI Las Vegas marathon was starting, and we stayed up until 1:00 watching 3 episodes together. I didn't really know the show, but I enjoyed it with Peter until I couldn't keep my eyes open again and he gently helped me to bed.

  Peter was wonderful and loving during our time together. He acted like he was completely comfortable being my care giver while I battled either a really bad cold, or a weak flu. I was sick and wiped out, but he stayed the whole time with me to get me through it, and I was so grateful.

  When I woke up the following morning at 10:30, I felt terrible, but better too. I had the physical symptoms of sickness, like a runny nose and eyes, and a very sore throat, but all the aches and pains were gone from my body. So I was better and worse, though I'm sure I looked much worse to Peter.

  Cuddled up next to him, I again breathed him in and felt happy. I remembered him asking me a few times in the night when I'd wake briefly if I needed anything, but other than some fresh, cold water, I didn't need anything except Peter close to me.

  “Good morning,” he whispered softly in my ear.

  “Good morning,” I croaked with a flinch.

  “I'm going to go buy you a few things to help you out. I would've yesterday, but I didn't want to leave you alone. How are you feeling?”

  “Ugh...”

  “This is usually the worst day, so you should feel better by tomorrow.”

  “Thank you for everything, Peter. But you can go if you'd like. I'll be fine. And if not I'll wuss out and call my mom or brother. I totally understand if you want to get out of here for a while. I wish I could,” I grinned.

  “I like taking care of you. It makes me feel good, and like, all manly or something,” he laughed. “I was pretty sick 2 years ago and my sister took care of me until I was well enough to care for myself, and I remember how good it felt knowing I had someone in my corner.”

  “It's just a bad cold,” I said trying to sound stronger than I felt.

  “I know. But you do feel better with me here, right? So it's the same thing whether just a cold or a bad sickness. Everyone wants to feel like there's someone they can always turn to and count on when they need them,” he spoke quietly.

  “I have that with my brother. I would do anything for him, and I know he feels the same about me. We're very close, and I kind of wish you knew Steven, too, so you knew how amazing he is.”

  “I'll get to know him. But I don't really want to share you just yet,” he said kissing my head.

  “I know... When I was at work yesterday I missed you, and I wondered how awful it’s going to feel next week when we're back to schedules and jobs, and real life, instead of this...” but I faltered. I couldn't think of the right word.

  “Beautiful start for us,” he finished for me.

  “Yes...”

  “Tell me something really bad about you,” I asked squeezing his chest tighter.

  “Um... I'm horrible at math.”

  “No, like bad about you. Like a personality trait. Give me something to work with,” I grinned against his chest.

  Pausing for a moment to think, Peter finally admitted, “I would suffer jealousy sometimes with my ex-girlfriends. Not too bad, and usually not enough to show. But it was there. And you?”

  “I'm apparently- I have bad PMS. Like super moody PMS, at least according to my brother. But I don't know if it's true because I'm the one suffering it so everything I feel or say feels completely rational to me at the time. Then again, Steven might just be messing with me because he has to find something wrong with me, being as I'm the awesome twin,” I laughed.

  “I know a wonderful herbal tincture for PMS which my sister swears by now. Plus, there are these drops that help acute anxiety or irritability. I guess we'll just have to see how moody you get,” he said pinching my butt.

  “Uh huh. Thanks.”

  “When are you expecting your next period?” He asked casually.

  Trying to answer just as casually through my discomfort, I admitted, “Around the 4th of January. I started on the 7th, during my second day of work. Why?” I asked a little embarrassed.

  “So I know when to be extra careful with you, which was last week, actually.”

  “When I didn't see you. Do you want me to go on the pill? I can if you want?”

  Shaking his head, Peter said, “I'm not a fan of hormone manipulation, but you do whatever you want Sophie. I just want to know your cycle so I can monitor our behavior during those 2 or 3 days,” he said so nonchalantly, I felt even more uncomfortable.

  “Have you done that often with women?”

  “No. I was typically a condom AND pull out man, but I've slept with 2 women without condoms; one who was on birth control. So other than you I’ve only watched the cycle of one other partner. Does that bother you?”

  “No. Well, yes, but it shouldn't,” I said exhaling. “You are my first condom-less man, and I hate the thought of you with another woman like that, which is totally ridiculous, I know. But I can't help it. I don’t like it,” I confessed with a slow exhale.

  “PMS?” He teased.

  “Maybe,” I groaned at my stupidity.

  “If it helps, Sophie,” he said looking at my eyes, “I've never felt this close to any woman as soon and as intensely as I do for you. You frequently take my breath away. And though I love this feeling, I'm scared of it, too. I'm often overwhelmed with the need I have for you,” he said quietly while holding me tighter.

  “’Cause you want to do dirty things to me?” I asked trying to ease the intensity.

  “No, because I want to live in you as deeply as you're living in me,” he whispered with a sigh.

  Stunned silent by Peter’s confession for a moment, I finally collected my thoughts enough to speak. “That was... Unlike anything I've ever heard before. I guess I dated non-romantics and men with little sweetness in them before. It's funny now because I
didn't realize… Nothing. Sorry, I’m babbling,” I said as I tried to get out of my verbal mess quickly.

  “Please finish, baby. What didn't you realize?”

  I was suddenly trapped between wanting him to know what I felt and not wanting him to know just how I felt. I knew he wanted me to tell him everything, but it was like jumping off a cliff I didn't even know I had been standing on with him. I found it hard to speak… until I just jumped and spoke.

  “Please?” He begged again.

  “Um, I dated men I think I knew wouldn't last… I think. I loved them each differently though. I did love them. But when I'm with you and you speak and act the way you do with me, I realize just how different they were from you. So I don't know if I dated them knowing it wouldn't last, or like, it wouldn't last because it wasn't you I was dating,” I nearly groaned after my confession.

  “That was one of the most honest, open things you've ever said to me-”

  “And it sucked,” I interrupted until he pinched my butt to shut me up as I giggled.

  “You are so lovely to me right now. Always actually. I love hearing you try to be open with me. And I love these moments of yours which are candid and special. I love the Sophie you become with me in moments like this,” he whispered holding me tightly to him.

  “Well, I hate it,” I groaned but then tried to ease up a little the more I thought about what I was saying. “Actually, I don't hate it. I just don't really know myself like this, even though I like feeling like this with you,” I babbled again with my discomfort. Struggling, I tried to move away from him slightly but he held me tighter to him.

  “Don't move away. Please stay right here with me,” he begged with another kiss on my head.

  After a few minutes of silence, Peter told me he had to leave me soon. To my shock, or maybe sadness, he actually had to go somewhere else and it bothered me though I tried not to show it.

  “Sorry, Soph. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I made plans with-“

  “Peter, this week is your vacation, too, and so far you've been stuck with me for days being sick. It’s no problem,” I lied.

  Shaking his head, Peter argued. “You've only been sick for a day and a half. We had a fantastic night together Sunday, and it's only noon on Tuesday. I have somewhere to be tonight, but I’m absolutely not leaving because I’ve been stuck with you,” he exhaled. “I play the guitar with some friends in a funky little garage band we won't give up with age, so I promised I’d see them later.”

  “I liked your funny poem yesterday,” I suddenly said, thinking where the hell did that come from. Then I realized it came from my pathetic desperation to keep talking to him.

  “Thanks,” he laughed. “I didn't realize how sick you were when I wrote it, otherwise it might had been at least a little romantic,” he smiled.

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Soon. Will you be okay? Would you like me to get you anything before I go?”

  “No, I'm good. Thank you, anyway,” I mumbled happily because I didn’t want him to feel bad leaving me.

  Speaking far more enthusiastically than required or that I even felt, I said, “I hope you have fun. Call me.”

  I desperately tried to sound casual without adding the later, or the soon, or the like five minutes after you leave me. I left it open like it didn't matter, but it did matter. It mattered to me if Peter called because I wanted him to call me.

  “I'll call you later. We usually finish up around 10 when Cam's wife Emily starts getting pissed at us,” he grinned pushing out from under me gently. “I’ll just grab a quick shower before I make you some lunch and get out of your way,” he smiled.

  “You don't have to make me lunch, Peter. And you're not in my way,” I tried to soothe myself when I felt the absence of his warmth around me.

  While Peter showered I laid in my bed miserably. I realized I really had never gone first, nor had I loved first. I had never confessed my feelings, whether real or potential before the other person did. It wasn't in my nature to be weak or exposed with anyone, never mind with a man. And though I knew Peter didn't want me to be weak, I felt weak anyway. I couldn't help but think of all the ways I was becoming dependent on him; emotionally, sexually, and mentally.

  I thought of how I felt during the brief moments we weren't together, and I loved my time with him when we were. I was dependent on him, already. So when I thought of the actual timeframe of our relationship, only 3 weeks, I was freaked out and overwhelmed by my dependency on him to make me feel.

  But then I thought of all those people who say they just knew when they found the one they loved. They always say they knew instantly, and I kind of felt like I knew it too. Thinking, I tried to force myself to stop focusing on a timeframe that was acceptable to love so I could just decide to love.

  In that moment, quiet in my room, with Peter here but absent from me I knew I loved him.

  When I realized I loved Peter, the thought of him leaving me for the rest of the day and maybe the whole night created an awful pain in my chest. I was horrified to realize I was not only going to miss him, but I was going to be lonely without him. I was sad to realize I would be lonely for the first time in my life.

  I knew I needed Peter in a way that though absolutely foreign to me, felt right somehow. Being with Peter made me happy and I wanted to live with that happiness for as long as I could.

  *****

  After he finished his shower Peter did make me a sandwich and some soup. He poured me a glass of orange juice, and he set me up on the couch before he left. He cared for me with little smiles, and with kisses on my forehead. Peter hugged me tightly before wrapping a blanket around me while kissing my lips deeply before he left.

  So I let him leave with a smile and a ‘have fun’, but I ached deep inside my chest when he actually left me.

  CHAPTER 16

  During Peter’s absence while I was sick, I called my girlfriends to pretend to be well. I called to pretend I was still connected to the world. I called to try to feel connected to the world.

  I confirmed our New Years' plans, and I listened to Kim go on and on about her bar guy from Sunday night. I listened to an excited Kim who was quite smitten with the new guy, shocked even to hear she was inviting him to Amy's huge New Year’s bash.

  Afterward, I called and listened to my girlfriend Amy trash her boyfriend of 3 years for failing to propose again over Christmas, which she was sure was going to happen. But after 20 minutes I managed to convince her that there was still the potential for a New Years' proposal, or that he may even be waiting for the very romantic, albeit cheesy, Valentine's Day proposal.

  I explained that he loved her obviously, so he was probably waiting for a very special moment to propose. I soothed her into remembering all the ways he had mattered to her over the last 3 years until she was calm and in love again. I talked Amy off the cliff of dumping Davis' ass for NOT giving her all she required, even as personally I was dying inside.

  On Wednesday morning, I called and spoke to Denise about my shift that night at the restaurant. She could hear how sick I was, and said the restaurant would be slow, so not to worry about coming in, even before I told her I couldn’t. But as we spoke briefly, I realized there was more to be said to Denise though.

  I needed to end working part time because I didn’t want the infrequent shifts over my head when I could be doing something, or someone else. After a few minutes learning about her Christmas, I finally explained I was sorry but I couldn’t work part time anymore with ‘everything going on’.

  I didn’t specify it was about Peter and not about my new job, but she assumed it was about my new job, and she understood the new demands I had to fulfill. Denise made me promise to pop in anytime, and to please keep in touch, which I promised I would.

  After Denise, I called my brother to check up on him since we hadn’t spoken for 3 days, but Steven heard my residual sickness instantly. He even offered to come over when he was finished work, but I turned him do
wn quickly. I didn't want him to see me because he could read me and he'd know there was more going on with me than just our usual every day or every second day check-ins.

  Keeping it together as we spoke, I chose to not deal with my sad reality without Peter, instead talking to Steven about his newest conquest- a hot little number he had seen two times since Sunday night, with plans again for later that night.

  Steven was being almost low-key about his new Michelle which made me think there was more going on between them than Steven's usual bang and run. So naturally, I wanted to cry again when I heard about Steven and his new Michelle maybe being more than the little nothing special he was used to with all his other women.

  I couldn’t help feeling sad that Steven maybe had something special starting, while my something special wasn’t with me, but I didn’t let it show. I kept it together enough to encourage Steven to enjoy his new Michelle, and to not sleep with her too quickly, so the infatuation didn’t have time to burn out before the relationship even started. I nearly quoted Peter verbatim to Steven, which of course only made me miss Peter more.

  So that was my day without Peter. I reestablished myself among my friends and my brother, while ghosting around cleaning and tidying my clean and tidy apartment with a runny nose and a sore throat.

  Essentially, I spent Tuesday and Wednesday morning miserable. And by Wednesday afternoon when I hadn't heard from Peter in 28 hours, I almost lost my mind.

  I was alone and shaky, and scared and confused. I was so sad without him I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't handle the fact that he didn't want me anymore or that he hadn’t called me to say goodbye.

  In my sad desperation, I even poured a little of his jasmine scented massage oil on his pillow, as I thought of it, hugging the pillow tightly so Peter’s jasmine could surround me. I lit his candle before I fell asleep in the afternoon, and I dreamed of his arms wrapped around me as I slept horribly.