Be My Anchor

Chapter Eighteen

The kiss of a boyfriend was different than the kiss of a boy. Knowing that he was mine and I was his, we felt no rush or desperation. We moved slowly, savoring every moment we had because soon we'd be 80 miles away from each other.

Gabe's hand touched lightly on my knee before sliding up to rest on my thigh. His fingers were cold, making me shiver, but I didn't push his hand away. I tugged at the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer.

"Care for a midnight swim?" he murmured against my lips. I didn't respond. "Please?" he drawled, now trailing kisses along my jaw and up to my ear in a very persuasive manner.

I shifted my gaze to the glistening pool water in front of me and stiffened at the sight of it. I still felt drops of cold water on my hand. I had no desire to relive the suffocation it caused me. I knitted my eyebrows together.

Since when did pools have this effect on me?

Gabe pulled back. "What's wrong? I thought you were okay with pools."

"I am," I responded quickly before correcting myself. "I was." I dropped my head into my hands, ashamed.

I'd always known it was not rational to be so afraid of the ocean, but now pools too? Where did it stop? It seemed like everywhere I went, there was a reminder of fear. It chased me. Gabe ran his hand over my back in a comforting
motion.

I mumbled into my hands, not wanting to look up at Gabe. "I guess now that I've stood in the ocean...it just reminds me of it, is all." I sighed. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to apologize for," he reassured me.

I ran my hands over my face and through my hair in agitation. "It's just such an irrational fear," I said, annoyed with myself.

In contrast to my growing frustration, Gabe spoke calmly. "That's usually how phobias work," he supposed.

Phobia.

I'd never used that word to describe my fear. It didn't seem right, almost like I was stealing the word for the purpose of my own self-pity. But hearing it out of Gabe's mouth, it sounded correct. What else could this fear be but a phobia? And somehow, reducing it to a single word made it seem less menacing.

"Midnight swims are overrated anyway," Gabe continued, pulling his feet out of the water and lying back on the ground. "It's too cold."

It wasn't, but I appreciated the sentiment anyway.

I followed suit, lying next to him, and he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I gratefully rested my head on his chest.

"Are you okay?" I whispered and I knew he knew what I was talking about. I was talking about all of the events that happened today and all of the events leading up to it. I was talking about the changes his life was going through, through my fault or no one's, I didn't know which one.

Gabe took his time to respond. He usually did. I counted his breaths as I waited.

"My family is falling apart," he finally muttered, even quieter than I had been.

"I'm here for you, whatever you need. You know that right?" I needed him to understand that.

"I know," he responded, and gently kissed my hair.

I didn't know how else I could make him feel better but to draw him closer. I thought of my own family problems. They seemed like nothing in comparison. I turned my face into Gabe's shirt. I just wanted to stop his hurting even if it made mine worse.

In the comfort of his arms, my eyes started to feel heavy and the rising and falling of his chest lulled me into the sleep I couldn't find before.

**