by R. C. Martin
“Baby girl,” I whisper, staring down at her. “Any man who could even think about walking away from you doesn’t deserve you.”
I press a soft kiss to her forehead and head to the next room. I grab her purse and dig through the contents until I find the prescription she told me she’ll have to take. It’s a quarter to nine, which means the nearest pharmacy is closed. As I leave her apartment, heading for my car, I try and remember where I can find a twenty-four-hour pharmacy. I only have to think for a minute, and then I’m on my way.
It takes me an hour to get there, fill the prescription, and get back. As I quietly make my way into her room, I’m glad to find her still sleeping. When she whimpers, growing restless in her slumber, I stretch out beside her and wrap my arm around her, rubbing her back in an attempt to provide some sort of comfort.
It’s not enough, but it’s the only thing I know to give.
If it were anybody else, I wouldn’t worry. But it isn’t anybody else. It’s Teddy. I haven’t heard from her all day, and all my calls have gone unanswered. Silence, from the woman who tracked me down after I stood her up, does not bode well with me. Besides, when I call my woman, I expect an answer.
At nine-thirty, I try her one more time. After I’m sent to her voicemail, I pocket my phone and head for the garage. I climb into my Land Rover, wasting no time before I pull out of my driveway and start for her place. When I arrive, I see her little red Civic parked in front of her building. Now, I don’t know whether to hang on to my worry, or to get annoyed.
I hurry up the set of stairs to her front door and rap my knuckles against it. A frown pulls at my brow when there’s no answer. I try the handle, and I’m fucking pissed when I find it unlocked. As I enter the apartment, I scan the room. It only takes me a second to spot the trail of clothes that leads to the hallway.
My heart beats faster, my mind rushing to conclusions that don’t add up in my mind. I hear not a sound, which only concerns me more. I don’t stop to think about how many different emotions I’ve felt in the last twenty minutes over this woman—instead, I walk into her bedroom and collide into another one.
“What the fuck is going on here?” I ask, my voice low and calm—my insides seething at the sight of Geoffrey in Teddy’s bed, his arms wrapped around her.
His head jerks as he looks up at me, and I can tell he’s read me correctly when he’s quick to pull away from Teddy and roll out of the bed.
“Hey. I wasn’t sure if you’d try and stop by.”
My shoulders rise and fall in an irritated shrug. “If I had known that I’d be intruding, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“Dude—don’t read this wrong.”
“Right. Because you’re gay and I shouldn’t be bothered by this situation.”
A scowl darkens his brow, mirroring my own. “Living room. Now.” I watch him, unmoving as he rounds the bed, heading for the door. He bumps my shoulder as he passes, and I follow after him, wondering who the fuck he thinks he is. “Listen,” he says, speaking before I can, keeping his voice low. “You don’t have to like me. I’m her best friend, it’s in your best interest if you play nice with me, but we don’t actually have to be friends. However, I have neither the time, nor the patience for your bullshit jealousy. Especially not today. That girl is a mess right now, so you don’t have time to be jealous either. She needs you.”
His words are like a pin, popping my ego in an instant. I look over my shoulder, feeling deflated as I realize that while I’m standing here getting my ass handed to me, she’s still in her room—lying in bed. I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but I know that I’m an asshole for feeling anything more than concern. Teddy is mine. She’s been mine since before I claimed her. I knew something was off, which is why I’m here, but I should never have let go of my focus.
“What’s going on?” I finally ask, giving Geoffrey my full attention.
He sighs, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “It’s not really my place to say. It’s her news to tell. You’ll have to wait for her to wake up. She’s been crying a lot, so be prepared for that. And when she realizes it’s you here instead of me, she’s going to lose her shit a little bit. She doesn’t want you here—but she needs you, I can tell you that much.”
I scrub my hand down my face, rubbing my chin as I let his words sink in.
She doesn’t want you here—but she needs you.
I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure as hell not leaving until I figure it out. I offer Geoffrey a curt nod before I start to head back to Teddy’s room.
“Wait, one more thing.” I turn to look at him once more. “There’s a bottle of pills on her night-table. Make sure she gets them.”
“Thanks,” I reply, hoping he understands my meaning.
A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he shakes his head at me. “We’ll be just fine, Judah,” he begins to say as he walks toward the door. “You and I will be just fine.”
I watch him leave and then join Teddy. I slip out of my shoes and occupy the space Geoffrey vacated, sitting up against her headboard as I look down at her sleeping form. Even in sleep, I can tell that her eyes are puffy, and her cheeks are streaked with dry tears. When she whines, I reach over and run my hand through her cool, damp hair. Then I listen as her whine turns into a cry, her breathing growing rapid and irregular. She starts to panic, but she doesn’t wake, and I know right away that she’s having one of her nightmares.
I toss the covers off of her and scoop her into my arms, settling her in my lap. She curls into me, gripping a fist full of my shirt as she starts to mumble incoherently.
“Teddy,” I say, holding her closer. “Teddy, sweetheart, wake up.” She doesn’t hear me, so I give her a shake and speak louder. “Wake up, sweetheart.”
She gasps, flailing in my arms as she finally comes out of sleep.
“It’s okay—I’ve got you. You’re okay.”
She bursts into tears, clinging to my neck, and my chest aches. I need answers. I need to know what’s going on—and I want to know now.
“Teddy—Teddy, talk to me.”
Her body stiffens and she pulls away from me slowly, just enough to see my face. The look in her eyes kills me, and all I want to do is make it go away; but before I can do or say anything, she tries pushing herself out of my grasp.
“Let me go!” she insists as I hold her tighter.
“No. What’s going on, Teddy? Talk to me.”
“Jude—please—just let me go. Don’t touch me. I’m disgusting! You don’t want me—I know you won’t want me. Not anymore.”
“Stop!” I demand, reaching around to grab hold of the back of her neck. “Look at me. Theodora, look at me.” She does as I ask and I shake my head at her. My eyes roam over her face, in awe of how beautiful I find her, even now. “I want you. Of course I want you. What are you talking about?”
“I went to the doctor,” she starts to say, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just wanted to get started on birth control, which I guess is pretty irrelevant now.” She stops, her trembling lip warning me that more tears are coming. “Justin gave me chlamydia.”
Her confession catches me off guard, and my mind goes blank for a second. Then I realize what this means—that she’s been carrying around this infection for years.
“Why are you just now finding this out?”
“I didn’t get checked after—I just—I didn’t. And I get it, okay? I get it! It was stupid. I’m stupid, and I—”
“Hey, hey—no. Stop,” I insist, giving her neck a gentle squeeze. “Don’t do that. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“Why not?” she cries. “It’s my fault that you might have it. And since I’ve been living with it for so long, I’ve pretty much ruined all chances of ever getting pregnant. So, you see? You don’t have to stay. I get it.”
“You get what?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.
“I understand why you’re going to break up with me, now.”
“Why? Because there’s a small chance I’ve somehow contracted chlamydia in my mouth? Or because you think you can’t get pregnant?”
“I don’t think I know. I mean, Dr. Murphy says he wants to do more tests—but I’ve had chlamydia for four years! It gave me pelvic something-or-other, and the damage is irreversible.”
I sigh, still not understanding why she thinks this news is our demise.
“Did you want children?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I never really gave it a lot of thought.”
“Okay. Well—I’m still not breaking up with you.”
“But—”
“First of all, not that this is a conversation that has much relevance, but I don’t want children. So if you think your inability to create them has any bearing on my feelings, you’re wrong. Secondly, I’m not an expert on sexually transmitted infections, but I know what you have is curable. I also know that while I have enjoyed your pussy, there is a very small chance that I’ve actually contracted it. Nevertheless, I’ll get tested and I’ll be fine. We’ll both be fine.”
I admire her for a moment, feeling relieved for the first time all night. I know that she’s sad, that none of this is easy for her, but I breathe a little easier, sure that she’ll be fine. It isn’t until this moment that I wrap my head around the fact that it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this worried about anyone. I don’t know how she could think that I would walk away from her—after all this time. She tried walking away from me once, and I couldn’t allow it. Now, there’s not a chance that I’ll let her push me away.
“I’ve waited this long to have you, Teddy. I can wait a little while longer. But I will have you—in every way that I want. You are not disgusting or stupid. You are what I’ve always thought you to be—exquisite.
“So cry if you want to. I understand your diagnosis is not easy news to hear. But I’m not going anywhere, Teddy. Do you hear me? You’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours?” she whispers, silent tears falling from her eyes.
“Like you mean it, sweetheart.”
“I’m—I’m yours.”
“You’re mine,” I repeat before softly pressing my lips to hers.
She frees a soft whimper, cupping her hands around my face as she returns my affection. She doesn’t linger long, her tears returning. Only this time, as she succumbs to her cry, she buries her face in my neck and holds on tight.
Judah stayed with me, holding me as I fell in and out of sleep through the night. It’s not at all the reaction that I expected, and thankful is only a fraction of how I feel toward him. Having him with me felt like a gift; like God was offering me comfort in the arms of a man—like He knew exactly what I needed, exactly who I needed, and He brought him to my doorstep when I was too afraid to ask him to come.
Jude left earlier this morning, informing me that he needed to take care of a few things, and that he would be back. He was only gone for five minutes before I started to miss him, but I needed this day alone. I called Harper and we talked for a while. She cried with me and insisted that she needed to come up, but I told her not to come. I know there’s nothing she can do, not really, and I just need time to process this new information.
I called my mom after I had a chance to gather myself again. That was definitely a hard conversation. My sex life has never really been something I’ve discussed with my mom—not since puberty, when she was doing her due-diligence as a parent. She knew that Justin and I broke up over the issue of sex, but I never told her that he’d managed to get inside of me.
A part of me thought about telling her that I was raped, that our sex was in no way consensual, but I just couldn’t. Even after all this time. Besides, the news I called to tell her was hard enough to admit. She, too, insisted that she needed to see me, but I told her that I wasn’t alone, that I would be okay, and that I’d make my way up for a visit in a couple weeks. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Estes Park to see my parents. It’s really not that far, and I should go more often, but my Civic, Agatha, doesn’t love the climb. In any case, I promised to visit soon.
Geoff calls in to check on me, giving me the opportunity to thank him for filling my prescription last night. He assures me that if I need anything, he’s just a phone call away. Then my phone goes silent. I spend the rest of the afternoon on the internet, researching and digging up everything I can find on chlamydia and pelvic inflammatory disease. I know that Monday morning, I’ll have to call Dr. Murphy’s office and make another appointment. From what I’ve read, I’ll be making a few trips back over the next three months or so.
I hate that this is my reality, but I know all I can do is seek treatment and move on with my life. It’s the moving on that’s the hardest part. I felt like I was getting to a point where I was really putting my past behind me as I let myself indulge in all I wanted with Judah. Now I feel like my past is in the spotlight. So much of my thoughts are filled with Justin, now. Any progress I’ve made over the years in forgiving him, it’s all gone. I loathe him, and acknowledging just how much makes my chest ache and my eyes tear up.
I cry off and on all day. I can’t help it. Then I make the decision to only allow myself to remain in this emotional state for a little while longer. In the morning, I need to go to church—I need to find my center—I need to find my true comfort and my true healing. God says, seek and you shall find, and I definitely need to find Him in a whole new way.
When a knock sounds at my door, I wipe my cheeks dry as I go to answer. I know my face is probably all splotchy, but at least I can say I showered earlier. I put on a new pair of sweatpants and a lightweight hoodie, piling my hair up on the top of my head in a messy bun.
My heart skips a beat when I open the door and find Judah on the other side. In spite of the cool evening this first bit of September has brought with it, he’s wearing a pair of black gym shorts and a snug-fitting, grey t-shirt. It almost makes me smile, finally seeing how his t-shirts are supposed to be worn. I also notice that he’s got a leather duffle slung over one of his shoulders and a grocery bag in his hand.
“I figured we’d be laying low tonight,” he informs me, gently taking hold of my chin with his freehand. “I came prepared.” Before I can ask what that means, he’s kissing me.
As soon as his lips are pressed against mine, nothing else matters. His affection chases away any and all doubt that my condition will ruin what we’ve been building over the last couple of months, and his presence reminds me just how much he cares for me. I need everything he’s giving me right now, and I don’t pull away from him until he severs our kiss.
“Dinner should be here any moment. I ordered pizza.”
I tilt my head as I stare up at him curiously. “You eat pizza?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Um—who doesn’t own jeans?”
“Smart ass,” he says with a smirk. “Keep it up and I won’t share my ice cream with you.”
“You brought ice cream?”
He hands me the grocery bag in his hand just as we hear someone ascending the stairs. When Jude sets his duffle down, digging for his wallet in his pocket, I guess that our pizza has arrived. I leave him to pay, heading for the kitchen to stow away the ice cream. I see that he’s brought cookies and cream and coffee flavors. In the bag, I also find a brand new, unopened DVD of Fight Club. My heart melts and my eyes well up with tears as I hug it to my chest.
I know that it’s silly of me to cry, but it means so much to me that he’s here. I feel like such a mess right now, my head and my heart going through so much; and instead of running away from me, he’s bringing me junk food and movies.
“I hope you like a little bit of everything because that’s what I got,” he announces, making his way into the kitchen. I’m quick to wipe my cheeks dry, but not quick enough. “What’s wrong?” he asks, setting down the pizza.
“Nothing. I’m fine. Sorry,” I mutter, shaking my head.
Before I know what he’s doing, he grips h
is hands around my hips and lifts me up, sitting me down on the counter top, making us closer to eye level. He takes up the space between my legs before he repeats his question.
“What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, willing myself not to cry, and then I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck. He returns my embrace, his big, warm hands resting at my sides making me feel safe and looked after. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Where else would I be, sweetheart?”
“I don’t know.” I pull away from him so that I can look into his grey eyes. “I know that I’m not exactly fun to be around right now. I know that your plans for this weekend probably looked a lot different.” I sigh, feeling defeated and embarrassed.
“It’s fine, Teddy. Shit happens. I know. You don’t need to apologize about it. Are you hungry?” he asks, lifting the lid of the pizza box. The delicious smell fills my tiny kitchen and I offer him a nod before setting aside the movie and reaching behind me for a couple plates. “Let’s skip the plates,” he says, reaching around me to close the cabinet. I arch my brow at him, surprised by his desire to be so informal tonight. “I don’t want to do dishes, do you want to do dishes?” he asks, mirroring my expression by arching a brow of his own.
A small smile graces my lips as I shake my head no.
“Ah, see? There she is,” he murmurs, tracing his thumb across my lips before leaning in to kiss me.
We spend the next twenty minutes eating pizza right out of the box and catching each other up on what happened during the day. When I’m stuffed, we move to the next room, stick in the movie, and settle on the couch. Knowing that Jude isn’t really the snuggle type, I try my best to be content sitting beside him—but then I explain to him that Harper doesn’t call me Teddy Bear for nothing, and he’s kind enough to let me enjoy the movie nestled in his arms.
