Carpe Diem (Sumettikul's Universe Two)

{14} This is Me, All of Me

I realize as I say these words to him—in the hope that he’s listening—what my real problem is. I just don’t get why he likes me. I have never understood why he likes me.

“I don’t understand why you find me attractive,” I murmur. “You’re, well, you’re you...and I’m...” I shrug and gaze up at him. “I just don’t see it. You’re beautiful and sexy and successful and good and kind and caring—all those things—and I’m not. And I can’t do the things you like to do. I can’t give you what you need. How could you be happy with me? How can I possibly hold you?” My voice is a whisper as I express my darkest fears. “I have never understood what you see in me. And seeing you with him, it brought all that home.” I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my hand, gazing at his impassive expression.

Oh, he’s so exasperating. Talk to me, damn it!

“Are you going to kneel here all night? Because I’ll do it, too,” I snap at him.

I think his expression softens—maybe he looks vaguely amused. But it’s so hard to tell.

I could reach across and touch him, but this would be a gross abuse of the position he’s put me in. I don’t want that, but I don’t know what he wants, or what he’s trying to say to me. I just don’t understand.

“Bible, please, please...talk to me,” I beseech him, wringing my hands in my lap. I am uncomfortable on my knees, but I continue to kneel, staring into his serious, beautiful, eyes, and I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

“Please,” I beg once more.

His intense gaze darkens suddenly and he blinks.

“I was so scared,” He whispers.

Oh, thank the Lord! Inside, my subconscious staggers back into his armchair, sagging with relief, and takes a large swig of gin.

He’s talking! Gratitude overwhelms me, and I swallow, trying to contain my emotion and the fresh bout of tears that threatens.

His voice is soft and low. “When I saw Jeff arrive outside, I knew someone had let you into your apartment. Both Chen and I got out of the car. We knew and to see him there like that with you—and armed. I think I died a thousand deaths, Bui. Someone threatening you...all my worst fears realized. I was so angry, with him, with you, with Chen, with myself.”

He shakes his head revealing his agony. “I didn’t know how volatile he would be. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how he’d react.” He stops and frowns. “And then he gave me a clue; he looked so contrite. And I just knew what I had to do.” He pauses, gazing at me, trying to gauge my reaction.

“Go on,” I whisper.

He swallows. “Seeing him in that state, knowing that I might have something to do with his mental breakdown...” He closes his eyes once more. “He was always so mischievous and lively.” He shudders and takes a rasping breath, almost like a sob. This is torture to listen to, but I kneel, attentive, lapping up this insight.

“He might have harmed you. And it would have been my fault.” His eyes drift off, filled with uncomprehending horror, and he’s silent once more.

“But he didn’t,” I whisper. “And you weren’t responsible for him being in that state, Bible.” I blink up at him, encouraging him to continue.

Then it dawns on me afresh that everything he did was to keep me safe, and perhaps Alex, too, because he also cares for him. But how much does he care for him? The question lingers in my head, unwelcome.