I watched him pour the water and turn back to me. He walked over to me, smiling and bent down, kissing me on the lips. I stood on tip toes, wrapped my right arm around his neck and opened my mouth. He wrapped his arms around me.
For an explained reason, I felt tears suddenly threatening to come out. Maybe it was relief from the years of loneliness. Perhaps it was sadness for the wasted years. Or maybe it was the fact that after twenty-six years, I would finally spend a night with someone other than where my mom was. I fought them as his tongue pushed against mine, but I couldn’t hide the sob that escaped my throat.
He pulled away and asked, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?” so gently it felt I couldn’t look him in the eye as he didn’t deserve my crying. I buried my face in his shirt and the tears poured out of my eyes. He didn’t ask again; Instead, he pulled me tight and sat his chin on my head, and held me there while the tub filled, and I had a good cry on his shirt.
Eventually, I pulled back and looked up at him, still crying but not sobbing. I whispered, “I’m sorry. You’ve been so sweet. I’m sorry.”
He wiped a few tears and said softly. “It is okay, Miranda. You went through hell today. And we finally spoke after ten years; your brain and body are all a jumble.” he wiped more tears. “It is okay to cry; I will hold you when you need to be held.”
I didn’t deserve him, Honestly. But for some reason, he loved me. “Thank you.” I whispered. But then as I watched him pulled back and turned off the tub and I remembered he would have to help me with my shirt.
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