Rehab, Actors & Love

Insecurities

After the day I spent with Dylan and my brothers, I noticed Dylan start to come around the center more. He started meeting me for lunch and staying until visiting hours ended.

As he leaves, he always promises he'll be back. Part of me thought he was doing this because he actually liked spending time with me, but the other part of me wondered if it was the guilt that made him keep coming back.

I was sitting at the counter in the diner when someone suddenly put their hands over my eyes. "Hey," Dylan whispered.

I laughed as he removed his hands and sat next to me. I watched as he stole a fry and ate it. "What?" He asked, his mouth full.

"You stole my fry."

He sent me a playful look before stealing another one. I rolled my eyes before going back to eating my burger. As I ate, Dylan ordered and started eating his own burger.

Throughout lunch, I couldn't help but wonder why he was doing this. I've already told him over and over again that he didn't have to make it up to me. I've moved on. Finally figuring out who caused the accident and meeting them was the closure I've needed over the past year.

I looked over when I noticed Dylan watching me. "What?" I asked, putting down my burger.

"You kind of just. . . Froze." He said slowly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I stuttered. "I'm fine." I sucked in a breath when Dylan reached over and put his hand on top of mine.

"Della," he said softly. I hesitated before looking over at him. "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I stuttered. I stopped when I saw the look in his eyes.

"Della, what's really going on?"

I sighed, finally giving in. "I just don't understand why you're doing all of this. I know you said that you're doing this to make up for what happened, but. . . everything?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, hesitantly. His eyes widened like he realized what I meant.

I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He looked down at his burger, his jaw clenched. Suddenly, he stood up. I turned towards him to see him holding his hand out for me, but not looking at me. I hesitantly took it, Dylan instantly intertwining our fingers.

We left the diner and started walking towards my room in silence. I bit my bottom lip when we finally got to my room. He opened the door for me and led me over to the couch. I hesitated to say anything, not sure if I should be the one to break the silence.

"Della," Dylan said before I could overthink the situation. "Do you think everything I do is because of guilt? Like everything? Even. . .us?"

"I don't know," I said under my breath, not looking up from our intertwined hands.

"Della," he sighed. "How could you think that I would do everything I've done because of guilt?"

"I just thought. . . You're this big actor and I'm just some girl who can't sing and can barely talk. I don't get why. . ."

I stopped talking when he suddenly reached across and cupped my cheek in his hand. Before I could say anything, I felt his lips press to mine. It took me a second before I started kissing him back.

As our lips moved in sync, I felt like I was on Cloud 9. I never got that phrase until now. Dylan's hand that was holding my cheek slowly started to slide down my neck. I quickly pulled away when his fingers grazed the scars on my neck.

"I'm sorry," he rushed out. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"No," I said, still breathless from the kiss. "It's not you," I stuttered. "It's me."