"Where are you going?" Marcel surprises me and makes my heart race with adrenaline.
"Had a nightmare, I need to walk it off." I let out, my heart still beating hard in my chest but not only from the shock.
"Want company?"
I take a moment to consider, and ultimately agree. I need to tell him, or else I won't be able to live with myself. Plus, I want his presence by my side. We've been so distant this week. I really need him with me.
He gets up and walks around the bed to take the trousers and the jumper he had on yesterday. I make sure I have the key to our room and lead him out. We don't really talk on our way to the elevator. My heart grows heavy in my chest knowing I have to admit something terrible to him. The lift doors open and close on us with mirrors reflecting a copy of ourselves. My face is red and puffy, and it just intensifies how ugly and disgusting I find myself. Tears slide down my face again as soon as I look down. That's when I feel Marcel's hand take a hold of mine. My heart seems to be tearing up in two massive pieces. And it hurts.
I rush myself against him like a foetus in the womb of the mother. I hold on for dear life. His arms instinctively wrap around me. It's a warm embrace, but I do feel him distant. That's exactly what I deserve. I don't deserve his warmth or his love.
The doors open and I get out of his arms and dry my eyes with my sleeve. I walk out with him on my heels. He takes my hand in his as we walk past the receptionist. It's still dark out. The pavement is wet from the rain, but the cloud is long gone. I look up at the sky, but don't find any stars. I settle back my gaze upon the Liverpool horizon.
Marcel doesn't speak, so it's hard for me to break the ice. We walk, and we walk. I don't know where we are going. We don't see many cars on the road, and we don't see a soul out there. The pubs are closed, but the sun hasn't begun to rise yet. The sky is pitched black. We are only guided by the lamps on the streets.
When the turmoil in my head and in my heart becomes too much, I stop walking forward and stop altogether. I guide Marcel to sit on the nearest bench, and stand in front of him like the mess that I am. He sits at the edge and looks at me blankly.
"I need to tell you something..." Are the first words that I let out. They are loud and not delicate at all. They were rushed and messy and the perfect image of me right now. "I don't want you to overthink this or think you have done anything wrong. I'm the one who is in the wrong. I don't know why, but tonight, I dreamt of Logan Kent. I had just sent the two other articles I wrote about him to Shelley when I fell asleep. I don't want to get into the details of this dream, but it was intimate and wrong and I do not feel anything for him at all. I don't know why these images came to my mind, but I hate myself for creating another case where you have reasons to doubt me. I love you, Marcel and I have missed you, and I worked too hard this week on these articles, he was more on my mind than you, and I apologise also for that. I hate myself for letting him haunt my dreams as well. You are the one that deserves all my attention, all my love and all my desire. I'm so terribly sorry. I just had to tell you. I feel like I've wronged you and I hate myself. You deserve the world and I know how distant I've been. I've been struggling a lot this week with my own issues and I feel like I've let you down. I'm sorry."
I finally gather the courage to look up at him. But he doesn't flinch. His eyes are stern on me with his trademark unfathomable expression. I join him on the bench and take a seat facing the street in silence. We stay like this for seconds that seem to turn to minutes.
"In that dream, you were having sex?"
"Yes."
"Was he giving you pleasure?"
"He was."
"Why were you crying in the shower? Because your dream wasn't real?"
"What– You were awake?"
"Answer me."
"No, of course not. Marcel, I love you. I wouldn't want to be with any other man other than you."
"This proves differently."
"I would never be unfaithful to you."
"You have already been."
"I have never been unfaithful to you, ever. Not now, not with Ash."
"This isn't how it feels."
Once again, I gather the courage to look at him. He has both arms crossed on his chest and he pierces the horizon with his gaze. I almost don't notice, but I see a tear on his chin and a fresh one sliding down his cheek.
"I'm so sorry, Marcel. I thought it would be the best thing to tell you. I'm sorry if it causes you pain. I feel horrible, but know that it horrifies me as much as it must horrify you. I feel like the most undeserving girlfriend in the world, but I love you, Marcel. I love you so damn much and this only proves it. I thought it would be wrong if I kept it to myself. I didn't want to lie to you. You deserve so much, you deserve the best. I don't know how else to tell you how sorry I am."
I don't add anything else. I keep silent. I'm emotionally drained. Disappointment poisoning the atmosphere around us.
I look down. I don't move. I try to block my thoughts. But I'm faced with the irrefutable reality that some part of me must have been attracted to Logan Kent. I must have been. Subconsciously. What my courses in psychoanalysis have taught me is that everything we do is driven by our subconscious. All that it reveals to me is that I must have been attracted to him and my subconscious mind had to realise that silent fantasy to move on. I needed to get it out of my system to move on.
Yeah...
Only a therapist could validate my point, but it's the only coherent reason as to why I dreamt of him. The only one. I satisfy my worries with that explanation. It makes me sigh profoundly. I feel a heavy weight lifted from my shoulders. The only one left is the weight of Marcel's thoughts. I'm suddenly reminded of his question I hadn't answered. I swallow and breathe in, ready to answer him.
"I was crying in the shower because I was disappointed and disgusted with myself. You are the one I hold dearest to my heart, and I failed you..."
With these last words, his hand slides on mine and it warms my heart to each end of my body. Shivers follow and my whole body seems to let go. A soft tear of relief slides on my cheek. I wiped it off immediately.
"I knew... I couldn't sleep. I heard you say his name." He breathes loudly, his heart heavy. I'm shocked and my heart aches for him, but I decide to keep it in and listen to him. "I know I've been distant as well this week... I can't hold your dreams against you, Grace. I'm hurt, but only because I'm disappointed in myself. If I had been more present with you this week, maybe you wouldn't have had the dream you had. I don't know, maybe I would have been enough..."
"Don't say that, Mace. It's OK to want some distance, I know I was dealing with a lot mentally this week. I know you were busy. You didn't owe me anything."
"But I should have noticed that you were dealing with your own issues..."
"I didn't want to burden you."
"You never burden me."
"I feel the same way towards you. Know that you can share what's on your mind."
"I know... I'm not ready yet. I want to figure things out first for myself... Do you want to share what's been on your mind?"
"I just felt lost... I always had a plan, I knew where my life was going and what I was working towards. Now I don't, and I'm scared."
"Scared of what?"
"Of what comes after my book. What if I'm not good enough for another story. Do I even want to write another? Do I want to follow the path I had chosen for myself before we met? I don't know... I've been anxious to think about, and I've been anxious not to think about it as well."
"I understand perfectly. Grace, I– I'm sorry I wasn't there for you."
"You are here now... But I don't know if I want to think about it. I'm so scared to make a decision on an impulse and regret it. I don't know what I want to do..."
"What makes you happy?"
"You. You make me happy. That's what I'm sure of right now. The rest just seems to fade away. I just want to get through this book tour and enjoy our time. Next year, after Christmas, I'll focus on my career, what I'm drawn to do."
"You are so talented and educated, the world is open to anything you have to offer. I know that... It's been a joy working with you. It'd be a shame if the world missed out on your talents because I selfishly want to keep you to myself."
My lips wobble under the overwhelming emotions my heart feels. Tears flood my eyes. I slide closer to him and nest myself against him. I missed him so much. He wraps my body with both of his arms and presses his cheek to the top of my head. His jumper absorbs the salted water as I take in his scent to calm me down.
"I love you." I murmur against his chest, my voice muffled by the strength with which he holds me to him.
"I love you too... I'm glad we talked. I missed you. I know my head has been preoccupied, but my heart is always here with you."
"I know... Do you hate me?"
"I don't hate you. I guess some of my own issues were triggered. You know me. I never could hate you. I'm relieved you would talk to me about your dream. I trust you. I trust us. I just hope you would show the same understanding if the roles were reversed..."
"Of course, Marcel. Of course, I'm so sorry." I hurry to respond thinking that this issue is dealt with and won't be a problem again. I'm not thinking about the price of his forgiveness. I'm not even thinking about the fact that there might be strings attached. I'm just so incredibly happy to have my Marcel back.
"I know... Come on." He says as he rubs my back with more vigour. "Let's get back to the hotel."
"Let's get back to the hotel and wonderstruck?" I ask him, thinking about showing him how incontestably his I am. It gets me a soft chuckle in response.
"Let's get back to the hotel and wonderstruck, yes."