I’m not sure how I manage to speak, but I do. “You’re here.” I make no attempt to conceal the relief or the emotion that rings through my words.
He nods slowly, and I see undeniable love in his eyes. “Always,” he replies through his panting. “Always.” His face is flushed, and he has to catch his breath before he continues. “I saw your tweet. My phone died . . . that’s all. Baby, that’s all.” He runs a hand through his hair as he slowly settles. “So, I couldn’t reply. Then I went to drive here, and . . . my car needed another jump. So I ran.” He swallows hard and tries to slow his breathing. “But I ran to you.” Esben locks eyes with me. “I’m here. I am completely here.”
“That’s all that matters.” I smile at him and take a big breath, calming my nerves that were fried a few moments before. “And you want to do this?”
He smiles back and begins to settle in. “I do.”
He’s sweaty and perfect and intolerably gorgeous. He is everything.
Esben will never have to jump through hoops for me again.
After we’ve both found a measure of stability, and when I know it’s time, I raise an eyebrow. “You ready? A hundred and eighty seconds.”
“A hundred and eighty seconds,” he agrees.
I turn to Kerry and nod. She is about to burst, and it’s a fraction of a second before she silences the crowd and calls out, “Time starts now.”
Ten seconds. Right away, Esben is intense, his eye contact direct, and I know he will not flinch, not waver, for even a moment. Unlike the last time, today, I welcome this from him. Whereas I did everything I could to block out Esben that September evening, now my mind and body are relaxed and open, feeding and refueling from this experience. It’s easy to bask in these first moments of reunion, and, based on his expression, he is feeling exactly the same.
Thirty-six seconds. I have missed Esben so profoundly. It’s only been a week since we’ve seen each other, but it’s felt like a century. I cannot believe how bananas I went.
I left him in Los Angeles. After everything he did for me. I give Esben an apologetic look. I am so sorry. I am so goddamn sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated so terribly. Not at all. I hate what I did, and I wish I could take it back. I press my lips together, and Esben leans a mere inch to the side, then shakes his head almost imperceptibly. He’s telling me that it’s okay, that I was in turmoil, that I was allowed to have a meltdown.
You’re too forgiving, I think. You’re too generous and too good and too patient. But I admire those things about you, and I am learning from them. Slowly, but I am. I won’t screw up like that again, I promise. This was more about hurting myself, about those fragments of my past that still cut sometimes. But now I am stronger. Because of you, because of Simon, because of Steffi. My smile comes from my trust in myself and in the future.
Sixty-eight seconds. Esben’s expression has changed a little. It takes me a while to guess what he’s feeling. While it’s somewhat difficult for me to accept, he wants me to understand that I have helped him also. Our relationship is not as one-sided as I sometimes think. His serious face and his unwavering stare have us frozen together. It’s important to him that I believe him. He needs me as much as I need him. He wants me as much as I want him. I am reminded how long he went without a girlfriend or any kind of real relationship, so I must pay attention to the fact that he fell in love with me. There’s a reason for that, and it has nothing to do with Steffi’s part in pushing us together.
He’s right. I will not forget my worth in this romance again.
Ninety-nine seconds. As we continue to move through this experience for the second time, another thought occurs to me. As much as Esben has helped me to transform myself, there is another person who deserves as much, if not more, credit. Simon. My father. Dad. Long before Esben came into my life, Simon was there, slowly and painstakingly building a foundation of trust for me to build on. I’ve spent a lot of time vaguely acknowledging this and feeling guilty about it, but I’m done with guilt. This is the time to appreciate and absorb all that he’s offered, to do something smart and healing with his love. And I will.
Even when I’ve tried to shut him out, Simon’s lessons have permeated my walls. He’s the reason I was so unsettled at the beginning of this year, even when I’d never heard of Esben Baylor. Some part of me was responding to Simon’s love and devotion, and it was making me itchy to be able to accept that and to reach for more. I owe my father so much. Instead of feeling like a burden, this feels like an opportunity and one that I will run toward.
One hundred and twenty-two seconds. The intimacy and comfort I share with Esben brings up too much. I won’t shut it out this time, but it hurts. I miss Steffi. I knew this was coming. Her death. I cannot stand those words, but I think them anyway, because I have to get used to them. Steffi is dead. To pair my best friend with death is such a grotesque and unimaginable association—a reality that I’m trying to assimilate, even though I’ve known this was coming for months. I take in Esben’s strength for comfort. I lift my chin and try to rally. I miss her already. I don’t think I’ll ever have a friend like her. No one will replace her. But . . . I almost lose eye contact when I yet again tear up. I want to fall to pieces, but I don’t. But I can find other relationships, other friendships, new and different and wonderful. They won’t be what I had with her. But that is going to have to be okay. Cherishing her and what we gave to each other will hold a sacred place, and that’s okay. It’s not a competition. I begin to cry freely. But I do not veer from my eye contact with Esben. I can’t. He’s my lifeline.
When Steffi told me to be brave, she meant it. She wanted me to have what, in some ways, she couldn’t allow herself. As strong and ferocious as she was, she couldn’t embrace this life, because she was too afraid, because she’d built too many walls. And before she could discover another way to live, a savage cancer goddamn ripped through her body and killed her.
There wasn’t enough time for her to heal from her past, but I have that time, so I will take it. I will revel in the opportunity to find rebirth and rejuvenation. To find myself completely.
One hundred and forty seconds. Esben has followed my every move over the past few minutes, every flinch, every tiny change in facial expression . . . I’ve circled back to a place of peace and love. To a place where all I want is a reunion with this boy who has helped me find myself. I send pure love and romance his way. And desire. I can’t ignore that. Esben, it seems, is feeling what I do, because, to my surprise, he breaks his own rule and, just for a second, dips his eyes to the spot on my neck that I know he loves to kiss before resuming our eye contact. He’s got lust in his eyes. For sure. I raise my eyebrows and send him a flirtatious look while I adjust my pose.
One hundred and fifty-nine seconds. He still looks at me directly, with a steadfastness and fortitude that I adore. Then he mouths three perfect words to me. It doesn’t matter when or how we’ve said this before. It only matters what we mean now.
I love you.
There is no delay as I reply silently, I love you.
A whooping “Woot! Yeah!” comes from everyone around us. The lustful and heated looks we send each other are apparently not subtle. Everyone sees what’s going on between us, and I welcome the mass cheering in this moment.