Match Point

Chapter 36: Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby

Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby

Nothing's gonna take you from my side

- "Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby," by Cigarettes After Sex

_____________________________________________

"Fuck. Shit... I'm sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm not leaving... I don't want to leave. I'm scared... And the thing is, I'm not scared for myself, really... I'm just scared of you getting hurt, and I was thinking out loud. I'm sorry. That was hurtful, and I didn't mean to... I panicked."

"What response did you think you were going to get, Lettie? You said you wanted to leave me, so couple that with everything that's happened today and in the last few days. My fucking suits are gone. I'm about to leave on tour, and crazy people know where we live. I snapped, and I'm sorry for the way I said it, but I meant it," I said with my voice raised in frustration.

Her eyes searched mine, so earnest and vulnerable. "I know. I know... I'm so sorry. I couldn't see you again either if we ever broke up. Who am I going to find better than you?" she asked, not sarcastic, not condescending. Just pure and genuine.

"I knew it was fear talking, but you seemed right serious. I'd been shitting bricks about that. I even had a heart-to-heart with Tom..."

"You had a heart-to-heart with Tom?" Lettie laughed nervously.

"Do you think I wanted to be reminded you two... dated, but you were saying you were going to leave. I wanted to know if this is what happened when Tom found you after the mugging."

"I obviously wasn't thinking... I'm sorry. That was heinous of me to say aloud, and I didn't even register I was doing that," she snapped a bit.

She shook as she looked up at me, her face pale, her hand running through her hair. "I still have so much to get used to... to learn how to navigate. All of it spins in my head." She looked like she might be sick.

"My mind goes to you. Making sure you're safe, first and foremost, but then this weird new instinct kicks in, and I'm like, what will Ian have to do to make this go away? Will Ian...will you be mad at me because I fucked things up for you? Will there be press about this? More paparazzi and fans snapping our pictures when we're just trying to be people who love each other? What kind of hate will I get? Will that press just invite more fuckery to our door? Will you hate me? Will you resent me? Will this end so badly? I would never recover."

She was crying now, her body trembling as she hugged me tightly. I held her close, my heart aching for her, and then she kissed me deeply, her passion and urgency palpable.

"I think all of that too sometimes," I murmured breathlessly between kisses. "I worry what I do, my career, will do exactly this to us," I sighed.

"I know... I run it all through my mind a lot, but in the end, I have never been happier. I have never felt so loved or loved someone so much; that feeling outweighs any of my anxiety. I just... what the fuck is happening?"

"When you woke me up this morning, I was having the best dream. I was looking at you, thinking about how scary it is what I feel about you," I smiled at Lettie as I kissed her jaw.

"You and your dreams about us," Lettie teased. "What were we doing in this dream?" Lettie loosened her arms that were wrapped around my waist, and I felt her relax into me as I moved my arms to circle her shoulders.

"We were on vacation. On a beach. You were wearing an impossibly tiny bikini, but you looked so relaxed, so happy, and it just made me want that for you and us."