“Huh?”
“No.” She speaks with more strength the second time around. Warmth seeps away as she steps out of my arms, adding to the distance between us.
“Why not?”
“I can’t have sex with you.”
“Then what do you call the thing we just did?”
“Something amazing.”
I’m absolutely baffled. She has my mind spinning.
She continues. “It was incredible—for me at least. But I don’t want to have sex until you’re ready to reveal yourself to me. And I mean all of you.”
My heart rate escalates. “Why?” Reality crashes back down around me.
“Because sex isn’t something I’m ashamed about, but it’s clear you don’t feel the same way about yourself.”
“This is who I am. Take it or leave it.” I grind my molars.
“That’s the thing. I do see who you are, and I want to take it. The real question is if you really are ready for something like that.”
Chloe has caught me in her spell. But I don’t know how I can go about accepting the version of myself she sees.
Silence surrounds us, accompanied by the shadows. We both sit on opposite sides of the car, our legs grazing one another. My skin itches as the emotional gap between us widens.
I don’t want that. Not in the slightest.
“Chloe?”
“Mmm.”
“Why are you afraid of small spaces?”
If we were outside, I imagine crickets would fill the silence. She says nothing, and I consider dropping it.
“When I was little, my mom used to lock me inside of my bedroom when her visitors came over.”
What the actual fuck?
She prattles on, not realizing my disgust. “My room wasn’t big since we were poor. Honestly, it was more of a closet than a room in the first place.” She laughs, but it comes off insincere. “But it was a safe place if my mom had whatever boyfriend of the time over, getting high and doing other things. Even as a young kid I knew what was going on because kids at school would talk. Turns out she didn’t have the best reputation. So, anyway, my mom didn’t want me to get in the way, so she would lock me inside my room until she was done.”
Heat bubbles inside of me, building beneath the surface of my skin. “You don’t have to keep going. I get it.”
“No, it’s fine.”
It isn’t, but I don’t bother arguing with her. I doubt this is easy to share.
“The thing is my mom is forgetful, especially if she was high when she locked me in my room.” Her voice cracks, and something in my chest tightens at the sound. “That’s why I hate small spaces. It’s like I’m taken back to those years, and there’s some automatic response in my body that protests to get out.”
I drag my body across the floor to get to her side. She accepts me wrapping my arm around her and pulling her into my side. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
I want to say more, but the words don’t come easy. And I don’t want to scare her by revealing how much I’m like her.
“It’s all right. There’s no reason to get upset. It’s in the past.”
“Is it? How can anyone move past that?”
“Because then I’d lose sight of what’s important.”
By this point, I’m sure Chloe can hear my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
“And what’s that?”
“Life is about creating the memories that matter, while forgetting the ones that don’t.”
I want to create new memories. With my family, with racing, and maybe even with Chloe.
I can’t change the fact that I lost my leg. But I wonder if I truly have been looking at my life all wrong since the accident. Maybe Chloe is right, and I can’t jump into something serious with her if I can’t accept myself first.
I want to see what she sees in me. I’ve lived the past three years in a world of black and white. Depression and isolation ate away at the man I was, creating someone I don’t recognize. So, yes, I want to experience the world through Chloe’s eyes because it’s like seeing color for the first time. It’s breathtaking and spectacular, fundamentally shifting life as I know it.
She’s my kaleidoscope in a world of gray.
30
Chloe
Okay, getting stuck in an elevator last night wasn’t the worst experience of my life. It took two hours for the maintenance team to free Santiago and me from the small car. After my dismissal of his “let’s do it” proposition and my confession about my mom, we spent the better part of the ninety minutes not talking. I took his silence for what it was. Indifference.