Page 86 of Soft
"Since you don't need to be talking right now, I'm going to explain a bit more about what actually happened."
He went into a long, drawn-out tale of how he had seen the advertisement on the late-night news when his dad was cooking dinner one night, and how he'd gotten it in his head that if he could become boy-band famous, they would automatically want to sign him as a baseball player too. He could be this mega-famous guy who would take care of everything and spread the love to all the people in the world through song and sports.
It was really cute, and part of me pictured a younger version of him running around with a microphone in one hand and a baseball glove in the other. While it was also hilarious, my heart warmed knowing how pure his was. He didn't say he wanted fame and fortune for himself. He wanted it so he could take care of others, so that the people around him would be able to have a good life and not want for anything.
He and his dad had enough for their family. It was his teammates who couldn't afford their equipment yet refused to take a handout, and the students in his class who he knew were in bad living situations and didn't necessarily have food when they went home at night that he saw needing a hand. The list went on and on as we waited out my unfortunate injury.
By the time I pulled the napkin away—the flow of blood having stopped—his voice had shifted to an almost hoarse rasp. I motioned for him to move the ice, then said "drink water" somewhat forcefully. He coughed in what was probably meant to be a chuckle but instead came out dry and hacking.
"Noted," he grumbled before standing and slowly walking around the couch to get a drink. When he returned, he had two glasses and a clean napkin to wrap around my bloody one. He took it away as I grabbed what was clearly my glass and took a sip. I hated the taste at first because that copper feeling from the nosebleed lingered, but soon I was greedily gulping down the refreshing water. Daddy returned and did the same.
Then it was quiet, just the two of us seated there as if the events had not just played out. How do you recover from smacking yourself in the face so hard you get a nosebleed after your partner tells you he tried out for a boy band illegally? The short answer is that you don't. Not without laughing to the point of having a stomachache, which is exactly what we did.
Eventually, Daddy picked up the book again and finished the story. I lay beside him, eyes closed, as I pictured the tale he wove together. I'd read the story probably hundreds of times at that point, yet his version felt new and fresh. Eyes closed, it was like a movie playing in front of me. I was helpless to do anything but follow along, even though I knew the tumultuous parts were coming.
When he got to the big plot twist of that particular story, I covered my ears, not wanting him to read it aloud. When his hands tugged at mine, I shook my head. "No, is bad," I told him.
He peeled my hands back and whispered, "I'll skip the bad parts."
I blinked one eye open. "You promise?"
He pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose, and though it didn't feel the best because of the ache there, it was still nice. "I promise," he agreed.
I gently moved my hands away, then listened as he flipped several pages past, his eyes skimming over the words until he felt he had gone past the worst of it. He did a good job guessing, too, because when he started up again, it was in the section where things were coming back together and heading towards happily ever after. It was my favorite part, and also the one that made me the most emotional.
I fought back tears hearing about how happy the characters were and how much peace they’d found. I never imagined I would have something similar, yet the man seated beside me was giving me just that—my own version of happily ever after.
Or at least something close to it.
We would be navigating all kinds of trials together; changes that neither of us could predict, and even the ones we knew about would probably change along the way. Still, I was confident that it would be okay, that in the end, Daddy had my back.
It wasn’t a long shot to think that we could really be each other's forever, and if that was the case, then I kind of wanted to get started on that now. Was it too soon to ask him to move in? Was that too forward? I didn't want to force us into any kind of box, but at the same time it felt like wasting time to put it off simply to fit society's standards. I grumbled to myself, pushing down the questions because they were only serving to bring me down.
When he closed the book and set it down, this time because the story was over, I looked up at him. I knew he could see the tearsstreaming down my cheeks and that he probably wondered if I was upset. In typical Daddy fashion, though, he simply wiped them away and pulled me close to his chest. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV on to something soothing—a classical station, or one of those videos where people studied together online. I couldn't really see it, given how blurry my vision had gone from the tears.
Even so, I felt okay. Like we could sit there and I could cry and everything would still be normal afterwards. No pretending or second-guessing myself.
I was right where I was supposed to be.
CHAPTER 29
A SERIES OF TEXTS
Paxton:Good morning, baby. You better have eaten something before those meetings.
Grizzly:I had a bagel.
Paxton:Of course you did. Which kind? You have so many.
Grizzly:The everything one with cream cheese. Don't tease me, Daddy.
Paxton:I wasn't going to say a word. Very proud of you actually.
Grizzly:*side eye emoji*
Paxton:That's not a very little face.
Grizzly:I'm in big mode. I'm at WORK.
