I stroke his hair. It’s getting kind of long. He’ll need a haircut soon. “And you’re right—you will figure it out.”
There’s a pause before he answers. “I don’t know.”
Leaning down to kiss him, I murmur against his mouth, “I do. You’re the smartest person I know.”
He gives a dry huff of a laugh. “Uh, you’re friends with literal geniuses, baby.”
“So? I still meant what I said. I don’t know anyone whose mind works the way yours does. You’re going to solve this. Maybe you can talk to Dr. Mead and ask for some more advice.”
He’s been idly playing with the loose fabric at the back of my nightgown, weaving it between his fingers. At that, however, his hand grows still. “I hate doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Asking for more help.”
“I know. I’m not a big fan myself. But if you can’t work out what to do, he’ll probably be the one to help you. Is he really that unapproachable?”
“No. He’s okay. He doesn’t lord it over us like some faculty do. But I don’t like being someone who...”
I frown. “Who what? Who doesn’t get it right the first time?”
He laughs again. That breathy one. Slightly bitter. Like he used to laugh all the time when I first got to know him. “Yeah. That.”
I nuzzle his neck. Kiss his cheek. “That’s the problem with being good at almost everything. You don’t know how to not be perfect.”
He’s smiling now. He pulls me into a soft hug. “I don’t think I’m perfect.”
“Maybe not. But you try to be as close as possible. Don’t you?”
“Maybe.”
I giggle and kiss his chest again before I rest my cheek against it. “Well, sweetie, your choices are to spend who knows how long wrestling with the uncooperative chapter or get over yourself and ask for some help. You’re meeting with him tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know what to do.”
He makes a grumbling sound, but it’s not genuinely bad-tempered. It feels like his body has softened a little. Like he might be close to smiling. “Fine,” he says at last. “I’ll ask for help.”
“Good. Sometimes it seems like all it takes is one small insight to make sense of a whole problem. At least that’s the way it works for me.”
“For me too.”
“So maybe he can help you find that insight. Just ask. It’s his job to help you.”
“I’ll ask him.” His breathing is slowing down. I can sense him relaxing. “Thank you, baby.”
“You’re welcome.”
We lie in contented silence for a while. Then a question occurs to me. One I can’t let go. “Dr. Mead told you to redo the chapter in that meeting you had with him two weeks ago?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You told me that meeting went fine.” My throat feels a little too tight.
“Oh. Yeah. I didn’t want to bug you with the whole mess. The meeting did go fine. I just needed to rewrite the thing.”
“Okay.”
“It’s really not that big a deal. Thanks for talking me through it.” He leans down to give me a light kiss. “Good night, baby.”
He’s using a tone of voice I recognize but haven’t heard from him in a while. The one that’s trying to smooth over waves but hiding the real thing inside.
And I hate it. Hate it. Just like I hate the fact that he didn’t tell me the truth after his meeting two weeks ago. That he kept from me this problem that was really bothering him.
He didn’t let me share in this part of his life.
I try to push away the hurt and disappointment. It’s not really fair. We’ve been living in this kind of relationship limbo here. It feels like there might be more than a professional arrangement, but neither of us has made a commitment to it. I can’t expect him to act like we’re a real couple.
But it feels like we’re a real couple, and so it hurts me anyway.
THE NEXT DAY, STEVE comes into town unexpectedly.
He’s got a house here in Atlanta, but lately he’s been splitting his time between here and California. I talked to him this morning, and he said nothing about flying to Atlanta today. But then here he is, waiting in the lobby of my building while the doorman calls up to let me know I have a guest.
I’m thrilled to see him. We settle on the couch with tortilla chips and guacamole and talk for hours even though we chat every single day.
It’s only after we cover everything else that he finally asks about Damian.