by RH Tucker
“Taylor,” I call out, leaning in my doorway, “Veronica was here?”
“Yeah.” He taps a pencil against his head, looking over at me. “Just for a second. She didn’t come in. She wanted to leave that envelope for you.”
“She didn’t … did she ask anything? Leave any messages or something?”
He shakes his head, giving me an empathetic smile. “Sorry.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Retreating into my room, I shut the door. I sit on my bed and tear open the envelope, a little surprised to find a single sheet. Her last letter—which I saved and have it in my dresser—was pages long. This one is four paragraphs. A tinge of panic surges, not knowing if the lack of words is a good thing or bad.
Micah,
I thought since I wrote you a novel last time, I’d try to keep this short and sweet. I’m sorry I’m telling you these things this way. I really do wish I could tell you face-to-face, but I can’t. When Yesenia said to write it, I didn’t think it’d make a difference. But when I wrote that first letter, I knew it did.
I don’t know what to do. I love you, Micah. No matter what happens, I will always love you. When I’m with you, I really do feel beautiful. But it’s not like I can have you around me every second for the rest of my life, always blocking out the negative thoughts I have.
I told you how I felt before we dated, and then about these last few months. But what about the future? I have no idea. If I had my way, I’d say let’s be together forever. I want that. But I can’t promise I’ll stop comparing myself to other people. I want to try. I am trying. But in a month or a year, I might still do it. And I don’t know if that’s fair to you. To make you feel like you have to continually build up my self-esteem because I can’t see it myself at times.
After you read this, I think I’ll be ready to talk. I hope so, at least. So call or text me after this, and I’d like to try to begin to work on us. But if you can’t, that’s fine. You may have your own insecurities, but I’ve hidden these fears from you that actually ended up affecting our relationship, and maybe I’ve already messed up a good thing. So regardless of what happens next, you’ll always be my first love.
Love Always,
Veronica
Jumping up from the bed, I rush out of the apartment. I just read her fears, and how she’s not sure if she’ll ever be rid of them. But one line out of the letter is my focus. ‘If I had my way, I’d say let’s be together forever. I want that.’ She wants that. That’s all I need to know, so I don’t even think about calling or texting her first. Jumping in my truck, I rush over to her house, unsure she’s even going to be there right now. I don’t know her class schedule, so she might be gone.
Parking in front of her house, a new worry hits me—her brothers. Miguel was the one who called me last time, but Tomás is the one that hit me. I’m sure he told his brothers what happened, so I’m not expecting anything but apathy when I see them. Still, I push through the concern and hurry to her front door, knocking.
“Get lost, prick,” Javier answers, opening the door for just a second before he starts to close it again.
Sliding my foot to keep it open, I press my hand against it. “Javier, please. I need to talk to her.”
“Are you crazy?” he hisses, stepping outside, closing the door behind him. “Dude, I wasn’t here, but I heard what happened. You’re a douchebag, but I’m not pissed off enough to attack you right now. Miguel and Tomás? That’s another story. I’m doing you a favor here. Get lost before one of them sees you.”
“I can’t leave. Please, I need to talk to her. She asked me to call her.”
“You’re not getting it.” He steps closer, putting a finger in my chest. “She might’ve asked you to call her, but you’re gonna have to do that somewhere else. Here? At our home? If Tomás sees you, you’re about to get the shit kicked out of you. I’m trying to help you out, Micah.”
“I’m not leaving,” I respond, folding my arms and standing my ground.
“Micah, go!” He pushes me.
I stumble back, but regain my footing, planting myself again. Then the door opens.
“Yo, Javi, who was—” Tomás’ words cut off, as his eyes meet mine. “You got a lot of nerve showing up again, asshole.”
“Micah, I told you. You need to leave,” Javier urges me, pushing me again.
“No, let him stay.” Tomás pushes past his brother, shoving me.
Javier’s between us, still trying to get me to go back to my truck. I cautiously wait for Tomás to make a move, and when he lunges at me, I quickly step out of the way. Javier turns to his brother, trying to hold him back.
“Tomás, I just need to talk to her,” I yell at him.
“You aren’t talking to anyone!”
“Micah, go!” Javier yells.
“I’m not leaving.”
“Javi, get the hell out of my way.”
“Tomás, calm down.”
Pushing against his brother, he lunges at me again, but I move away as we circle their front yard. It’s the evening, so I’m sure their neighbors might be watching through their windows, but I can’t bring myself to care about it enough to stop. I don’t care if he gets ahold of me and we start rolling around in the grass, causing people to call the cops on us, I can’t leave. I won’t.
“Move, Javi!” Tomás yells at his brother. “You weren’t here. You didn’t see how hurt she was.”
His words make me freeze. It’s not a revelation that what I said was out of line and hurt her. I know it did. I said it in a moment of anger and frustration. But hearing him tell it, knowing I caused it, sends dread through me again.
Tomás finally shoves Javier out of the way, grabbing me by the shirt. “You’re never seeing her again, you hear me? I don’t care if she wants you here or not, I’m watching out for her. I’m protecting her from dickheads like you who think you’re too good for her.”
“I don’t think—”
“Shut up!” he growls. “I should slam your face into the ground right now. But I know she still has feelings for you. So leave, Micah. Get the hell out of here and never come back because I swear to God, if you do, I won’t hold back. She’ll get over you. I’m not gonna give you another chance to hurt her.”
“Tomás!” A booming voice makes all three of us turn our heads. Standing in the doorway is their father. Just behind him, Veronica stands wide-eyed and mouth open. “Let him go.”
Tomás looks back at me, narrowing his eyes, seething in frustration.
“Tomás,” his father orders again. This time he let’s go. “Javier, get inside.”
It’s an interesting shift of power I’m watching play out. Their father’s said very little to me, and from being around them, he doesn’t voice his concern or demonstrate any kind of authority to any of his children. At the same time, even though they’re all over eighteen, and Tomás is married, he still seems to run everything.
Javier looks at Tomás for a moment before retreating back into the house. Tomás, though he isn’t holding me anymore, continues to stand toe to toe, his gaze boring into mine. Through the corner of my eye, I see the older man approach, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Go inside, Tomás.”
He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move for what feels like an eternity, and I never break our gaze. Finally, he takes a step back. He looks at his father, then his eyes find mine again before he turns around and walks back into the house.
My vision follows him, and as he goes inside, he gives Veronica’s arm a comforting squeeze. She keeps her eyes on me.
“Micah.” The strong voice returns, but it’s different. It’s quiet enough for only me to hear but at the same time enough to rattle my bones. “That girl may be a young woman now, free to make her own choices and mistakes, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t watched out for. That she isn’t protected.” There isn’t any anger or frustration in his voice. Only warning. “I was watching from inside. I wouldn’t be out here right now if she didn’t as
k me. They are all my kids, but she’s always been who we protect. If she asks you to talk, you talk. If she asks you to stay, you stay. I’ll make sure the boys don’t do anything. But, Micah,” he lifts a finger, “if she asks you to leave, then you leave. I’ll only say it once.”
I want to answer him, but my voice is gone, so I nod. As nervous as he makes me, I’m more terrified of this being the last time I get to talk to her. He nods back, turns around, and walks back into the house. Veronica approaches me cautiously, worry across her face.
“You should’ve called,” she says, flashing a small, nervous grin.
“I couldn’t. I didn’t want to just hear your voice, I needed to see you.”
She walks past me, and I follow along like a lost puppy. Leaning against my truck parked in front of her yard, she asks, “You read the letter?”
“Of course.”
Bobbing her head, she looks around her yard, then off into the distance. The sun’s finally collapsed beneath the horizon, offering a warm yellow and orange glow through the clouds. I’m not sure if she’s watching the sunset thinking it’s the last one we’ll see together or if she’s hoping it’s one in a long line of many to come.
“I don’t …” Her words linger, filling me with panic. “I don’t know what to do, Micah.”
Those words are all I need to move me to action. Throwing my arms around her, I pull her close, and a sliver of hope hits me as she wraps hers around me. “It’s gonna be okay,” I whisper.
“But how? How will it be okay? Micah, I’ve tried. I’ve really, really tried and I keep trying, but these fears never leave.”
“I know, and I’m so sorry, Vero. I should’ve never told you what I did. I’m not too good for you. I’m nothing without you. I need you, Veronica. Please, come back to me, and we can figure out all of the rest.”
“But that’s not fair, Micah.” She shakes her head into my chest. “I can’t ask you to do that. To always be my cheerleader.”
“That’s what couples do, isn’t it? Cheer the other on? Support them?”
“Yeah, for like a new job or something. For someone’s dream. This thing,” she presses her fingers to her head, “never goes away.”
Leaning down to her, I hold her face, my thumbs brushing away her tears. “Do you know what my dream is, Vero?”
“You want to be an artist, like your dad.”
I shake my head. “That’s my goal. I don’t know if I ever told you my dream. My dream was to live a life like my father. Not just a job, but everything. And that dream doesn’t come true unless I have someone to share my life with like he does. You’re my dream. I need you. Otherwise, this isn’t the life I’ve dreamt about having.”
“But—”
“You wrote that I’ve been more vocal about my insecurities, and maybe you’re right. But I haven’t told you everything.” Leaning back, she peers up at me. “I haven’t told you that I hated having you sleep over some days because I knew Taylor was home and I didn’t want you to see him, and think about upgrading.”
Through her tears, she laughs and then makes a gagging sound. “Ew, Micah.”
“I haven’t told you that while I brought flowers for your mom, I did it purely to try and impress her, hoping I’d look better than any other guy that might’ve met your parents before.” Another light chuckle, shaking her head. “And I haven’t told you that I did everything I could to hide how insecure I was when you went on vacation with your family. Why do you think I texted you so much? I didn’t know who was down there. I didn’t know if you’d see some guy on the beach and decide to have some vacation fling.”
“Micah, I would never—”
“I know. I know you wouldn’t, but that doesn’t stop my fears from taking me over sometimes. You’ve countered my insecurities, whether you know it or not, just as much as I’ve countered yours. Being with you, while I may get jealous from time to time, is all I want. You make me forget that other people can betray you and remind me that some people are worth fighting for. You’re worth fighting for. Please, come back to me.”
“And later? It’s not gonna be too much when you have to keep telling me how much you love—”
My lips crash into hers, cutting off her words. Locking her fingers behind my neck, she pulls me closer. Her scent encapsulates me, while her lips and tongue cure every part of the pain I’ve had from being without her. Running my fingers through the curls I’ve missed for far too long, I never want to break apart from her. Even as we separate to catch our breath, and her lips are only inches from mine, it’s still too far.
Reaching up, I wipe away the last tear. “Never. It’ll never be too much. I’ll tell you every hour of every day for the rest of my life. I love you. Without you, I’ll need a new dream. Please don’t make me find a new dream because nothing else will come close to this.”
Putting her hand to my cheek, she offers me a small smile.
“Is that a yes?” I ask, and she nods. “Thank you.”
“Thank you for not giving up on me. On us.”
“Never.”
Chapter 38
Veronica
It’s been a few weeks, and things are going good. Micah continues to tell me he loves me and that I’m beautiful—and I continue to try and work on believing him. My self-confidence issue seems more significant than his trust issues, but I know he has them still, even if he doesn’t tell me. So, I’ll do little things here and there, to keep the balance between us.
Like a couple days ago, I’d just left my last class of the day, and I usually wait for Micah’s class to end. Ryan, a guy I’m in class with, held the door open for me as I left. I went over and leaned against a small barricade, pulling out my phone while I waited for Micah.
“Hey,” Ryan said. “I was wondering if you want to grab a drink at the café with me. I’ve got twenty minutes before my next class.”
He’s a cute guy. Broad shoulders, shorter hair than Micah’s that’s just a touch darker shade of brown. His midnight blue eyes are confident. He gives off that arrogant air that Taylor does, but I know Taylor, so it makes him funny. With Ryan, it comes off as conceited.
“Oh, thanks, but I’m waiting for my boyfriend.”
“Ah,” he chuckled. “A boyfriend. He doesn’t let you get food or drinks without him?”
Wow, that’s rude. And completely expected from the little I know of him. But before I can reply, Micah appeared next to me, wrapping his arm around me.
“She can do what she wants,” he said, pulling me closer. “But I do get vetoing power if it’s some guy trying to hit on my girl.”
Ryan eyed Micah up and down, no doubt taken aback by him. I’m sure a pudgy girl like me, he was probably expecting someone completely opposite of Micah. Scolding myself, I remembered Cindy telling me to never think of a negative thing about myself without thinking of a positive. I’m … fun? I don’t know, I’m still working on it.
Ryan’s demeanor changed, and he raised his hands in defense. “Oh, my bad.”
“Yeah, it is your bad.” Micah stared him down.
I have to admit, it would’ve been scorching and lust-worthy how Micah got if I didn’t have an idea of what was going on in the back of his mind.
Wrapping my arms around him, I let out a soft giggle. “How was your class?” He doesn’t answer. Lifting my eyes, I see his vision clearly locked on Ryan as he continues to walk away. “Micah?”
“Yeah?” he responds, still staring.
“Hey.” I reach up and pull his chin down, so his eyes meet mine. “Stop doing that.”
His face finally softens, cracking a smile. “Sorry.”
Letting out a sigh, I grin with an idea of trying to defuse the situation. “He does have a cute butt.”
His jaw drops as he leans back, staring at me like I’ve gone crazy. “Excuse me?”
“What? I mean, it’s not all perfect and pinchable like yours, but you know, as far as butts go …”
He shook his head, laughing. “T
hat’s it. I’m forcing you to come to school with blindfolds on.”
“Dumb boy.”
So, yeah, he still has some issues, but I think we’ll be okay.
My eyes crack open as I lay in bed, feeling his hand on my waist, his thumb caressing my skin. When I see him, he’s already staring at me, smiling, and leans in with a kiss.
“Morning,” he says with a smile.
“Morning. How long have you been awake?”
“Only a few minutes.”
My lips curve up with the thought of him watching me sleep, then I remember his words. “Okay, that’s not creepy at all.”
Laughing, he quickly kisses me again. His lips travel down my chin and along my neck. As I run my fingers through his hair, he moves lower. “Micah—” I try to talk, but my breath is caught short. “You know I’m—”
“I know, I know. Out of order,” he says with a chuckle. “I was thinking something while you were sleeping.” His head hovering over my stomach, a slight tinge of nervousness hits me as his hands slide under the hem of my shirt, pushing it up slightly. I’ve worn the lingerie a couple of times, but most of the time I still sleep in one of his shirts.
“Can I?” he asks, looking up at me. I know he won’t move it anymore unless I give him the okay, and somehow that puts me at ease. Biting my lip, I give him a slight nod.
Keeping my hands on his head, I stare up at the ceiling and feel my shirt lift up just below my chest. He lays his face down on my stomach, and I feel his hand slide over my hip. As skittish as this position makes me, there’s also a calm sweeping over me. He moves his face a little, and his stubble scratches and slightly tickles. Then his hand lands over my belly button, and he pauses.
“So, I have to tell you something,” he whispers, sending a pang of anxiety through me. “I was watching you sleep right now, and a thought hit me. You know how I feel right now, no matter how you look. But one day you’ll be bigger than you are.” The anxiety morphs into real panic as he looks up at me. “And when that day comes, I’m going to be honest, my feelings are going to change for you.”
