The Last Chicane

Reality Check

"Okay. What's wrong?" Charles asked with concern "You've been so quiet today. And I know that only means one thing- you're overthinking something."

We had had a great day. He took me out on the Sidici again today. It was too cold to attempt to get into the water, which I had decided that I was going to face my fear of the ocean and try to get in today. So instead we sunbathed, read books, played games, took naps. We just spent time together with no distractions.

I wanted to tell him. I really did. I want to tell him about all of the doubts and fear that I have now that I'm going back home in two days. But instead of telling him everything I simply replied with, "I'm fine."

He freezes and stares at me. I could tell he was battling with himself. To either push me to talk to him or to drop it. I figured he would drop it because no one ever pushes me to talk about my feelings. Because no one ever cares.  But he catches me off guard.

"Tell me. I want to know, chérie." He says softly.

I drop my head because im so upset with myself for not having the courage to tell him what's on my mind.

He sighs, stepping closer and grabbing my chin with his index finger and thumb. He pauses for a second before he slowly starts to lift my chin up so I'm looking at him again. Our eyes lock. And he just holds my gaze for a moment.

I refuse to drop my gaze again. I don't want to be weak in front of him, but my emotions start to overwhelm me and get the best of me. I feel the tears start to swell in my eyes. I hated this part of me, the part that doesn't know how to communicate her feelings so she cries because of how frustrated she is.

Don't you do it Blake. Don't you dare cry. Be strong.

Dammit. One tear falls. Then another. I am breaking right in front of this man and he has absolutely no idea that he's the first person to ever see me this vulnerable.

He raises his other hand and gently wipes the tears away. He doesn't speak, because he doesn't need to. Our eyes do all of the talking. He slowly wraps me up in his arms.

And that's when it happens. I break. I start sobbing uncontrollably and he's just holding me with one arm wrapped around my waist while the other one is holding the back of my head.

He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me to the couch and he sits down. I don't move because I'm still crying. He holds me for what feels like an eternity until I finally muster up the courage to say what has been on my mind since the moment I met him.

Finally, I whisper "I'm terrified."

He gives me a minute to collect the rest of my thoughts, not wanting to rush me because he knows how difficult it is for me to talk about things.

I take a couple of moments to collect myself, slowing my breathing down and wiping the tears from my face. I pick my head up to look at him. For a moment, I just look at him. Those depthless green eyes looking back at me.

How was he so perfect? It just made this whole thing worse. My stomach was in knots. How do I even begin to explain the thoughts that are currently drowning me?

I take a deep breath and begin. "What happens when I go back home? What then? I go back home to reality. I go back home, back to my job, and that's it. I don't live the same life that you do. I don't get to live THIS life," I waved my arm around his apartment, "This isn't my reality. This is yours." I said as I placed my palm over his chest, where his heart is.

"My reality is in Houston with my job." I was rambling at this point. But he didn't try to interrupt me, he just looked at me intently. "I mean. I'm not a model. I don't come from money. Well I do, but my parents have nothing to do with me. I'm not famous. I'm a nobody. I'm a nurse. I wasn't meant for this world..."