A Little Bit

Epilogue

Warren

Six months later

“So, Warren, how has the last week been for you?”

Dr. Hart adjusts her glasses on the bridge of her nose, jotting a quick note down on her notepad before lifting her head back up to me, waiting for my answer.

“Um.” I twiddle my thumbs in my lap, smoothing out a wrinkle in my khakis, buying myself some time.

I’ve been seeing her for the past few months, and in some ways, I do feel like it’s helped. Some of those internal wounds scabbing over and healing. Unfortunately for her, for every few that she helps me conquer, there’s a dozen more.

Sometimes, that thought has made me despondent. Ready to give up on trying to better myself and just live with the ugly darkness that has been a part of me for so long.

But every time those thoughts slither in like a snake trying to encroach on my garden of Eden, Eli is there, coming in to cut the snake’s head off with a shovel.

He stayed true to his word, helping me carry my baggage until I did something to help myself.

It was one of the first afternoons I went out with him in public, laying my head in his lap on a balmy April afternoon, trying desperately to not worry about any looks we may have been getting. He pet my hair as I stared up at the magnolia blooms we sat under, the first of the season. Fragrant and ripe with potential. Promise.

“I think I’m ready to talk to someone… about everything. I want to be better," I murmured, never taking my eyes off the white flowers.

But he forced me, gently pushing my cheek to look into his eyes. “I knew you could do it.”

I shook my head, staring intently at him as I tried to keep the sting out of my eyes. “No. It was because of you. Without you coming in like a hero, I would’ve never reached this point. I would’ve married some woman I didn’t love or even know that well and lived a life I didn’t want. You saved me.”

He scoffed at that while pulling the joint he rolled earlier from behind his ear, lighting up and blowing out the smoke in a steady stream. “I didn’t save shit. At most , I helped you see what was already there. I’m the sidekick. You’re the hero here, sailor.”

He ended his statement with a flirty wink my way, acting like we were having some fun-loving conversation. Like he didn’t just fill my insides with light and hope. Something I had never felt from another person.

I clear my throat, meeting Dr. Hart’s expectant gaze. “It was good. I went to Eli’s first solo exhibition.”

Her eyes brighten. “I recall you being excited last week to go. How did everyone receive his change of subject?”

Eli had always drawn portraits, but after spending so much time in my townhouse, always having “plants in his fucking face” as he so lovingly put it, he decided to branch out a bit. He got lost in drawing in my place for weeks. After exhausting every potted plant growing within the walls of my home, he started begging me to show him some of the flora around town, eagerly listening when I told him random facts about each one.

I smile widely, thinking about the concentration etched into his brow that I got to witness for weeks. Watching him work so hard to create ten beautiful pieces of art for his very first exhibition that was all his own.

“It went really well. He sold every one of his pieces.” I try to not sound like I’m bragging, but I really can’t help it. Watching his success fills me with a pride that I could never conjure for myself.

She gives me a knowing look. “And did you buy one again?”

I press my lips together and look at the ground, giving her the answer.

Every time his work is exhibited somewhere, I either buy one of his drawings or he threatens me enough that I don’t.

He has some completely misguided notion that they’re pity buys. He doesn’t understand that I literally can’t help myself. When I see his art, it’s like he put himself on the paper, it doesn’t matter what’s actually on there. All I see is him. And then I need it. So I get it.

“Just one. But I had to get it.”

“Why?”

I recall the drawing, now hanging above my bed. Black charcoal on cream paper. A beautiful magnolia tree, covered in Spanish moss. Titled, SAILOR. Honestly, how could he not expect me to buy it?

“It was made for me.”

She gives me a coy look, but moves on, bringing up a topic she knows makes me uncomfortable. “And have you had any urges to self-harm recently?”

My insides grow hot. It makes me want to crawl outside of my skin. “Yes.”

I’d love to be able to say no, that once I found my happily ever after in Eli, all my darkness disappeared. But it didn’t. It still lurks, ready to make an appearance the moment I forget about it. The difference is, now I have someone to battle it with me.

“Okay. What do you think triggered that urge?”

“My mother called me again.”

“And how did you handle the urge?” she asks, completely unperturbed while scribbling a note on her paper.

My voice trembles as I answer, because even though I’ve made tremendous strides in talking through the shame I harbor about so many things, it still takes great effort. Tireless, debilitating effort. “I-I really wanted to do it. I actually started looking through my drawers in my desk, even though I knew nothing was there, I still tried to find something. But then, I stopped and did that thing you talk about—the five senses things.”

She nods her head and smiles, making a quick note again. “Five things you can see. Four things you can feel. Three things you can hear. Two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste.”

“Yeah. Exactly. It helped to suppress the urge long enough to call Eli.”

“And did speaking with Eli help you?”

“It always helps me.”

She smiles again, switching how she crosses her legs before leaning forward. “It’s great that you have a person in your corner who can set you at ease and distract you, but what’s even better, Warren, is that you recognized your spiral and did something to stop it yourself, then sought out someone else to help. That’s something to be proud of. You’ve made amazing progress since we’ve met.”

Clearing her throat, she points her pencil at me and leans back in her chair. “Now, circling back, you said that your mother called you again. This is the”—she flips through her notepad and mouths counting to herself—“fifth? Fifth time, I believe, that she’s called you in the last two weeks. Last session you mentioned that you were thinking about answering your phone. Have those feelings changed at all?”

I roll my lips between my teeth, trying to put the feelings I have about my mother into a neat and orderly few sentences. But it might be impossible.

Part of me never wants to pick up that phone, to shut her out, closing the door on any relationship I’ve ever had with her. She lied to me. Completely twisted the truth to her advantage, damaging me in the process.

But another part of me, an annoyingly optimistic part, wants to answer when she calls. To see what she has to say. To see if anything that comes out of her mouth could possibly repair us.

I haven’t spoken to her since the night I walked out of my childhood home all those months ago. According to SJ, Grandaddy was incensed, saying that I was an abomination and a stain on the family name, telling Mother to cut me off and throw me out of my place. Well, the townhouse had been left to me by our grandmother, so they couldn’t do anything about that.

And so far, none of my access to the family trust has been rescinded.

I’m not really sure what to make of that… if it’s an oversight or a purposeful decision on my mother’s part.

Eli has been firmly planted in the “I’ll support whatever you want to do” camp. Even though that woman has caused his family so much pain, doing something completely shady and evasive for her own personal gain. He says he doesn’t really care anymore.

“I want to move on,” he confessed one morning after staying the night. “Yes, she was a terrible person. But I’m tired of being sad. I’m tired of holding grudges.” He turned to me, dark eyes sparkling with all the love he reserves for me. “She’s your mother and if you want some type of relationship with her and she wants to be better to you, then I’ll do it. You’re all that matters to me. You’re the most important thing.”

“Warren?” Dr. Hart’s questioning lilt brings me back to the present.

I straighten, focusing my eyes back on her. “I think I might want to. But I don’t want to make a mistake. Invite her back into my life and she brings me right back down to where I was before.”

“Well, it’s important to note that you don’t have to decide right now. You are in charge of who you allow in your life and when. Take the time that you need to make the best decision for yourself.” Her eyes flick up to the clock hanging on the far wall. “We only have a few more minutes in our session today, Warren. Is there anything in particular that you wanted to discuss?”

“SJ.”

She raises her eyebrows and scribbles in her notepad. “Ah, yes. Your sister. What did you want to discuss?”

I shrug, suddenly feeling sheepish. “I don’t know. I just—I’ve always felt like she has a lot more going on than she says. And, I worry about her.”

She hums while nodding. “Have you expressed this to her?”

“Yes. She always brushes me off, saying she’s good, even when she’s clearly not.”

“Well, unfortunately, we can’t force people to share things with us. You’ve mentioned that she’s been somewhat of a protector for you her whole life, that could be a reason she hides her issues. She wants to protect you. Let her know that you are there for her and when she’s ready to share with you, she will.”

I nod, not really feeling any better, but knowing there’s not much I can do.

She jots another note before standing with a sympathetic smile on her face. “I’m sorry, Warren. We’ve reached our allotted time, but I’ve made a note to discuss it more at our next session.”

We walk next to each other before she reaches out, pulling the door open for me. “Oh! I almost forgot. You’ll be signing up for classes this upcoming week, right?”

“Yes. I’m really excited to get started.”

After Eli and I officially became an item, I withdrew from all my law school classes, and this fall I’ll be starting classes toward a Plant Sciences major. I’m not even sure what I’m going to do with that, but it doesn’t matter. I got to choose this for myself. Something I’ve always loved. Something that wasn’t shoved upon me by someone else. I can’t believe it’s my reality.

She nods at me. “That’s amazing. I’m so happy for you. I can’t wait to hear about it next week. You’ve been doing so great here. Keep up the good work.”

I smile back at her and turn to leave, exiting the building and slamming into the summer heat, instantly pebbling sweat on my skin.

“Whoa, who’s the sexy blond guy?” a weirdly deep voice says to my right, making me whip my head in that direction.

Eli leans against one of the antique lamp posts, a sexy smirk on his face as his eyes run a lascivious path up my body. My cock instantly takes notice, twitching in my pants as he stubs his joint out on the sidewalk. He’s got that backwards hat on his head, a black tank top showing off all his muscles shining in the southern sun. He saunters over to me, cracking his knuckles as he moves, drawing my eyes to the tattoos there and how they look when they’re grasping my body.

He grabs onto my neck, pulling me into him, attacking my mouth with his. We’re in public, so part of me wants to resist, being so new to all of this, but his lips feel too good. The resistance leaves, being replaced with an unwavering need for him to keep going. I let him explore, moaning when his tongue circles mine. And when we pull apart, I realize that everyone is still going about their day. No one cares, and that’s amazing.

He stares into my eyes. “I missed you, baby. Did you have a good time?”

“Yes,” I say raspily, making his pupils dilate, turning black like a demon’s.

“Okay,” he murmurs, placing a quick kiss on my mouth and grabbing my hand, pulling me in the direction of my place. “Let’s go. I need to cuddle you right now or I’m going to die.”

I chuckle a bit as I try to keep up with him.“Eli!”

He ignores me, continuing to drag me back to my place.

“Eli. Eli, wait,” I say with a little more authority in my voice.

He stops, turning back to me with a look of concern while he rests his hands on my face, eyes searching mine. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought you were just playing around with me. Is something wrong?”

His thumb rubs rhythmically on my cheek, warming my blood. Even the slightest touch from him makes me feel so loved. Cherished. I don’t want to go without that anymore. Not for any second of the day.

“Move in with me,” I blurt.

His eyes widen, and a sliver of doubt runs down my spine, like maybe I misjudged everything and he doesn’t feel the same way.

“I-I’m sorry,” I stammer out. “We don’t have to. I thought?—”

His mouth slams onto mine, his tongue diving in again, tasting and licking and devouring my soul.

He pulls away, panting and breathless, holding onto my neck with both hands. “Fuck yes.”

I smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, sailor.” His eyes move between mine. “I can’t believe I thought I’d only be able to have you for a little bit.”

I smile. “I know. You were so naive.”

He smirks again. “Let’s go home, baby.”

I nod. “Let’s.”

THE END.