Chapter 29

James rented a car to drive to his place. It was another long and exhausting trip. We also had fun though. He would sing along to the radio out of sync, intentionally, like an echo. He was amusing himself, which amused me. I was amazed he could still have fun in such silly ways. I figured that happened when you spent time with kids. You tend to pick up on their whimsical energy. If that were the case, I was hoping it would rub off on me. I missed when I could feel that free. Ever since I became an adult, I just felt guilty. There was always something to feel guilty for. Being a woman, being a teenager, being an author, being a victim. I had been weighed down by guilt for my entire life. I didn’t want to keep that anchor attached to me anymore. I wanted freedom, mostly from myself.

The month in his life was going to be my vacation from myself. In my mind, I was going to step into the role of someone I could be in the future. It would be a bit like acting, but more like seeing my imaginary scenarios coming to life. It’s not like I never thought about growing old with James. I had those thoughts in high school. I had those thoughts when we had that little apartment together. I had thoughts of a future where we met by coincidence, started talking, and fell in love. I would never tell him any of this though. It felt silly. I mean, as a teenager, that was normal. The fact that I still thought about the scenarios as recently as the accident was something else. Sometimes, I felt a bit like a stalker. I mean, I never looked him up or anything. I had no idea what was going on in his life until he told me. But, the way he would creep into my head in the middle of the night felt, wrong. Like I knew he shouldn’t be there, but I just couldn’t help myself. I thought about the future more than I thought about the past. The past had no real hold on me. My feelings for him had a hold on me, not the memories. The feelings never went anywhere. There was always a hint of desperation behind the need for closure. I told myself it was about closure. I never got over him because I never got closure. The truth was, I never got over him because I never tried. Why would I? There was nothing wrong with him. He was a great guy. A guy I looked for in everyone and anyone, but never found again. He was better than a Prince Charming because he was a real guy. Flawed, sure. But real. Even after decades of no contact, he was still on my mind. Him. Not the memories we shared. Him. The memories we could be making. That’s what played in my head more than anything.

As comfortable as I had gotten with James, I wasn’t as comfortable with his stuff. It felt weird, being in someone’s house around their stuff. I wasn’t used to that at all. I didn’t know where anything was, so I was constantly looking in cupboards and drawers for things that weren’t there. I hoped there wasn’t something he was trying to hide because I was likely to find it in my search for something else. I knew it would take a few days to settle in before I would feel comfortable at his house. This was only my second trip away from home. This time, it wasn’t a hotel bed I would be sleeping in. I would be sleeping in his bed, with him. Yes, it was something I had started getting used to. It was the new environment thing that was throwing me off. James was a good sport about it. He laughed while I looked like I was going on a rampage just to make a pot of coffee in the morning. Then he made it and showed me where everything was. He had a different way of organizing his kitchen, and I did not understand it. I instinctively went for the wrong cupboard every time. Every time, James chuckled.

Because he was married when he bought the house, the master bedroom was designed with a married couple in mind. There was a walk-in closet in the bedroom and a double sink in the master bathroom. James basically told me I could put my stuff anywhere I wanted though. He didn’t want to “limit me” to certain designated areas. He wanted me to feel comfortable. That’s what he said at least. I had no reason not to believe to him. Hayley had her own bedroom and the boys had bunk beds in the other room. They were a little old for bunk beds, but they only came over on the weekend. James said he also had a workspace in the basement. Part of that workspace was a soundproof room with a drum kit inside.

“I thought you said you gave up music.” I mused. He shrugged as he leaned against the door frame.

“I don’t play in front of anyone. But I’ve kept up. It was always a good way to get out my aggression.” He corrected. I nodded slowly. It felt surreal to be in a room like this, with him. It was like stepping into a murky part of my memory. For a brief moment, I let the past flash through my head. I felt his hands around my throat. I could see the white of his eyes as they rolled into the back of his head. I felt the panic building in my chest. I didn’t fight it. I gave in and let it wash over me. My shoulders slumped and I let out a deep sigh. James stepped into the room and wrapped his arms around me. He pulled my back to his chest and gently squeezed me.

“Hey, come back.” He whispered. I shook my head as I turned to face him.

“I’m fine.” I lied, putting my hand on his cheek. He leaned down and kissed me.

“Would you ever consider it? Playing, I mean.” I asked shyly. He raised his eyebrow.

“Well, I’d play for you, yeah.” He agreed.

“That’s what I meant.” I smiled. He nodded.

“Absolutely.” He agreed. I motioned for him to sit down. When he did, I slid into his lap and straddled him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I kissed him deeply.

“I still think drummers are sexy, you know.” I smiled. He smiled wide.

“Oh yeah?” He cooed, brushing his lips against mine. He pulled away when I went to kiss him, but there was a smile on his face. I kissed his cheek and pushed against him. He let out a soft groan, dropping his head back. I moved my lips to his neck and started kissing down his chest. When he pulled his head back up, he had a wicked grin on his face.

“I’ve never had sex in here.” He observed. I smiled.

“Well let’s fix that.” I giggled. He put his hands on my lower back and practically threw me onto the floor. I made sure to test how sound proof the room really was.

James went back to work, which left me alone in his house. I wasn’t told there was anything off limits, so I snooped around a little bit. I wasn’t looking for anything, just curious. I was a naturally curious person in a new environment. Of course I wanted to look around. It was the photo albums that really caught my attention. He kept a few stacked underneath the TV cabinet. I pulled them all out, like a child on Christmas morning, and spread them around the floor. I loved looking at all his family pictures. His kids were all gorgeous. They looked happy and well-adjusted. They were strong as a family, despite having gone through some hard times. I could tell from just pictures that James had done an amazing job with the kids. Although I was still nervous, I looked forward to meeting them.

One thing I wasn’t expecting to see in his photo albums was my own face. But he had a few pictures that had been taken in high school using one of the disposable Kodak cameras. I had never seen the pictures. I had my own, taken with my own camera. But I had never seen the pictures he chose to keep. He had pictures I didn’t even know he had taken of just me. It almost seemed like he was a little bit obsessed himself. I put the rest of the albums away, but kept that one on the coffee table. When James got home, I made him explain a few of the shots. I made him explain why I was in his family photo albums. He told me it was because I was a major part of his life. Then we made out on the couch, like we were teenagers.

The first week at his house felt like an extension of the month at my house. The biggest difference was that his house felt like a home instead of a museum. There were more neutral colors and more color in general. My walls were dark, like my soul. My house was a tomb. James’s house was filled with so much love. It was like the exact opposite of a haunted house. Everything was charming. There was a delightful vibe in the air. It felt like a warm and cozy home.

I bought groceries and cooked him dinners after work. I cleaned the house. I did the laundry. I did anything I could to make his life easier while I was around. Because my life was easier with him around. I wanted to return the favor. I wanted to return the love. The kindness. He deserved the fucking world, and I wanted to give him everything I had.

I started reading through some of the books on the shelf that he had mentioned. I didn’t look at every title he had on the shelves. I just grabbed what caught my eye first. It took me a few days to see a copy of Gone sitting on his shelf. I picked it up and looked at it. It was worn out, like it had been read a hundred times. I opened the book to see that it was a signed copy. He must have sent someone to get it signed in his place. I definitely would have remembered seeing him at a meet and greet. I smiled to myself as I put the book back on the shelf. I had never been more confident in my entire life that I was making the right decision being here. This was the only man for me.