Disclaimer: This chapter contains strong sexual references 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️
“Ok, so the prom, the bench and the apartment? Do you think we have time in one day?” Chris asks me.
I am distracted from my phone call by a knock on the door. I check my watch and realise it’s already 6pm. When I open the door, I see him standing there, as tall as the door frame, with the familiar serene smile on his face. I can feel that smile all the way down to my toes.
I was in my hometown for a few nights, but I couldn't tell my family because they would ask questions. When Callen messaged me to wish me a happy birthday, I mentioned that I would be in town in late November, so we made plans to catch up over a few drinks.
I signal him to enter and mouth, "I'm so sorry! Two seconds!”
“Yep, that’s doable, they’re all very close. We’ll go see the prom first, Adria’s house after” I say out loud to Chris on the phone.
“OK, great. I’ll see you at 10.” Chris says to me.
“Awesome! Meet you downstairs in the morning. Have a good evening.” I say wrapping up the call.
I turn around to find Callen sitting on the velvet sofa in the over-the-top hotel room that was booked for me by the production. It hits me that this is the first time I'm alone with him, ever. I feel a bit of nervousness building up, but I quickly shake off the feeling. "I don't have time for this," I tell myself. "Energy up, a quick catch-up and a few drinks. It will be over before I know it." I plot in my head.
“Hi! How are you?” I say going in for a hug. “I’m so sorry, I was on a work call, I didn’t think it will take that long.”
“That’s ok.” he replies as he stands up to give me a hug. “I didn’t know you were going to be working,” he says letting go.
“Um, yeah... This is technically a work trip. I think we’re … um … making a movie?” I say and immediately become very surprised that the words sounded more like a lie than the truth.
“You’re making a movie?” he asks with wide eyes.
“Yes. Based on my auntie’s story. You know, when they ran away to Belgium back in the 80s?”
“Oh yes, I remember. That is amazing! Congratulations!”
“Thanks! I don’t even know if it will happen, very early stages. The producer wants a tour of the locations which is why I’m here."
“That’s so great! Will I be able to watch it?”
“Probably. I don’t know. I want to give you all the details but I can’t really talk about it yet.”
“It’s ok! You’ll tell me when you can.”
“Thanks! Oh and, no one knows about this yet, so please don’t mention it to anyone, especially that I’m in town.” I remember to tell him. “Not even to your mum. Please!” I follow up quickly.
“Don’t worry, I won’t! I promise,” he said in a serious tone looking into my eyes touching my shoulder in reassurance triggering the memory of Easter hallway incident.
Out of nowhere, my heart started racing and I couldn't break his eye contact. This has never been a problem before; I rarely look people in the eye. Lately, I've been making conscious efforts to be more present and vulnerable. But right now, it feels so effortless, it's really scary. I don't even break character to think about my face and how stupid it might look.
“Do you want to have a drink here first then go out and grab a bite?” I finally say feeling like I have just jumped out of this invisible blanket of energy that has taken over the room.
“Sure,” he says unfazed by the moment. Clearly just in my head now, I really need to get a grip.
I go to the marble effect desk and grab two glasses, then into my suitcase and pull out a bottle of Black Label.
“Found this in duty-free. I don’t know much about whiskey but I know I like it smokey.”
“Oh, are we finally having the whiskey conversation?” he says so quickly I needed a minute to figure out what he meant. I laugh out loud.
“Oh god!” I say. “Let’s keep it light, shall we?” I say as I pour the whiskey and hand him a glass.
We sit down.
We chatted about his job and family. He mentioned that his wife recently made partner at her firm, but the long hours keep her away from him and Maxie. He seemed to really miss her, but also sounded proud of her for fulfilling her dream. I loved that! As we talked, he told me how smart and witty Maxie is.
"How old is she now?" I ask.
"She's 8. I'm trying to teach her to be strong and independent," he said sadly. "It breaks my heart that the older she gets, the more she becomes like me."
“Why is it a bad thing?” I asked curiously.
“I just don’t want her to repeat the same mistakes I’ve made. I’ve been so passive and stupid all my life.”
Well, this escalated quickly!
“What?" I reply laughing. "That's so not true!" I say quickly, realising that he doesn't know me that well after all this time and has no clue I laugh uncontrollably when I get uncomfortable.
"It is true. All I did was work and watch life pass me by.”
“And look where you are now! What you've accomplished is remarkable, don't you think so?”
“I do think so. I love my career and where I am. I have done it all by myself. I just want her to have the same determination and not be shy and insecure like I was.”
“No point living in the past! All you need to do is allow her to be her, listen and help her find her voice, whatever it might be. That’s it. Teach her it’s ok to say no, encourage her to go after everything she wants and trust herself. Teach her to love herself and guide her into knowing herself. Everything else will fall into place.”
“I am.” he said in a tad defensive tone.
“Good! You're already winning."
"It doesn't feel like it!" he replies mumbling.
I shake my head. "Please think about finding a way to make peace with whatever you think you did wrong in the past. It's game-changer important!" I say, taking another sip of my whiskey. "Living with regret affects your relationships and will not help Maxie grow up strong. Cool name by the way!" I say winking.
He laughs as I continue my monologue. I'm a bit tipsy by now and that's the sweet spot where my unsolicited thoughts and advice come out.
"Ok, I will," he says.
"Good! It's a slippery slope, this cycle of thought I mean. I know this because my mother always spoke and thought about herself negatively. She saw herself as the victim, and even when things were good, she couldn't get excited because she thought something bad would happen. I wish someone had confronted her about this when she was our age." I say taking another sip. "She thought she was teaching me to be better than her and have a better life, but instead she projected her shitty insecurities and regrets onto me. I grew up believing that no one liked me, that I was too ugly and fat to have an opinion, and that it was wrong to go after what I truly wanted because my wants were different.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't know. That's terrible," he replied. He was clearly very shocked by my confession. He knows my mum and the image we portrayed all those years. What I've just said goes against everything he thought he knew.
“It’s cool. She didn’t do it on purpose. This is not the most chill and easygoing culture to grow up in. Not the shittiest though, so there’s that. At least it’s not affecting us long term!” I say sarcastically and with a smile.
“Yeah. I struggle to be myself sometimes. I don’t really have anyone to talk to so openly.”
“I get that. I would still do it though. Talking helps."
"People don't have time for my complaints. They have their own stuff going on," he replies with almost a fake smile.
"Don't get stuck in your head! Good people will always want to help."
"Yeah, until I get too real with them. They're going to think I'm crazy!"
"Who isn't?" I reply laughing. "But you're also gentle and strong, and caring, and wholesome and one-of a-kind.” I say getting increasingly louder with every word I say, as if to sell him the idea of him. “You make people feel safe and happy. You bring the best out of people. Don’t undervalue these things. They’re all that matters.” I continue passionately, enhancing every word as it comes out.
Whiskey has always provided me with inspiration and fuelled my best decisions. He didn’t say anything just looked a bit uncomfortable. I take this as a sign to continue talking. Now that I’m in this, I have more thoughts that he simply must know them.
“You can’t protect Maxie from going through tough times, but you can give her the tools she needs to grow from each experience. That's all she needs. Take it from someone who needed this as a child. As a parent, or a human being for that matter, loving yourself or wanting to be happy is not selfish, it’s the only way you can be there for the ones around you. You cannot give what you cannot have, ma boyyy!”
“Where has all this come from? I wonder if this could apply to me too.” I chuckle to myself.
He laughs.
Callen's words really fucking triggered me. I am so sick of this narcissistic cultural bullshit, with this stupid indoctrination that we need to always sacrifice ourselves for others or pay for whatever fuckwrong we have done according to other people’s standards and insecurities. I am so sick of it.
I’m sick of the cycle of thoughts that we have to be martyrs in order for others to love and appreciate us. That we have no choice but to continue to wallow in the pain and regret of the fucking past, of what we should or shouldn’t have done.
And the thing that pisses me off the most, is why the fuck am I still surprised? It’s a highly religious country, built on fear and prejudice. I remember how I felt in the years after I left, gaining a new perspective that can only be seen once you have enough distance. I was absolutely petrified to see how it’s all bullshit, only a control system weaved in a nation so systemically that there is literally no escape. I remember how lost and scared I felt when I realised the truth, I felt like I was outside the Matrix and I could see people truly struggling for no valid reason.
Old people risked their lives during a pandemic to go to church and share a spoon with 100 other people, so they could receive Holy Communion in case they died. I guess that’s why I have so much compassion for the people in my family. Still, it’s difficult to be in a losing battle of simultaneously caring about someone and being angry at being the only one who can see the hand that controls them, and knowing there is nothing you can do to help.
"Fuck, I went hot real fast. It just happened.” I think to myself as the image of Dee pops into my head shouting at the creepy guy, overcharging her for the assault rifle.
When I finally stopped talking, Callen didn’t say anything but looked a bit moved by my unsolicited opinions about his personal life. He squeezed my hand whilst smiling at me.
We proceeded to lighten the mood and chatted for what felt like hours.
He also told me that he misses the military and being out in the field. He seemed resigned to the fact that some jobs can only be done while you're young. I made fun of him, saying that he sounded like he was 70, not 35.
“I’m not 70 but my body sure feels like it. It doesn’t heal as it used to.”
“Oh stop! You’re young. We’re young! We’re still in our thirties you know? We can still do stuff. Within reason of course.” I say gesticulating with my glass.
“Mid-thirties.” he follows.
“Still thirties.” I correct him very quickly. We both laugh.
I notice he is so calm, so present, and maybe a bit intense?
"So you're all happy and cheerful. Can you honestly say that you have no regrets?” he suddenly asks me.
Usually, the answer to this question is a solid no but today hits differently. The question is asked by Callen and there still is a tiny thing that still makes my stomach churn whenever he pops into my head. I never imagined I would talk about this brief moment that happened over a lifetime ago with him, but in the spirit of being more vulnerable, here I fucking go.
“Not really a regret but something that makes my stomach hurt whenever I think about it,” I say. "So I never do!" I follow up laughing.
"I told you a lot about me. It's your turn to share," he replies.
I let out a deep sigh and feel my cheeks catching fire. I try to take another sip but my glass is now empty. I reach for the bottle and say.
“Remember when we were like 15 and you asked me to be your girlfriend and I froze?" I say refilling the whiskey glasses so I have an excuse to not look at him. "You probably don’t, we never talked about it.”
As I say those words a knot takes shape in my stomach. I was back in that room, feeling so guilty, so responsible. I know the reasons why I acted the way I did. I know that if we had been together back then, my life would have taken a different turn and I would not be the person I am today. And I love who I am today. But at the same time, I wish I had been braver.
The room was silent.
His eyes are fixated on mine but it seemed like he is looking straight through me. His face has no expression. I have no clue what was going on but somehow I feel sucked into his gaze and I couldn’t turn away.
I started sensing a bubbling feeling within me, as if something that had been dormant was slowly coming back to life. It reminded me of the first day of spring when fragile snowdrops push their way through the thick snow, gradually emerging and breaking through the icy cold surface that had covered the ground for what felt like an eternity.
"Be right back, I gotta pee real quick," I say the moment my lungs grant me enough air to breathe. I put the glass on the table and start sprinting towards the bathroom.
I come back to find Callen standing, facing me. Looking at him from across the room, I honestly feel like the lighting has changed. I mindlessly start walking towards him, like I was pulled by an invisible string. When I reach him, I hug him deeply and I drop my forehead onto his chest.
Callen wraps his arms around my neck hugging me tightly, resting his chin on top of my head. It’s a deep, protective hug.
“Are you ok?” I ask him a bit perplexed making a conscious effort to sound casual and normal. “You’re breathing weirdly,” I follow up, pulling my head away and looking up at him.
The energy shifted and this time around I wasn’t sure I was the only one noticing.
“Yes.” he said softly, looking down at me. “It’s the effect you have on me. You give me butterflies all over,” he said suddenly and without warning, standing in front of me and moving only a fraction closer.
I burst out laughing. It suddenly felt like I had broken the spell.
“Why are you laughing?” he continued, completely still and unfazed.
“Come on! I am not the kind of person to give someone butterflies! I’m more the I’m gonna annoy you into dating me before you realise that what I have to offer is not what you need, or that I’m way too much or not enough, then years later you think you love me but that’s really just Stockholm syndrome settling in.” I say quickly, in one breath.
I realise I talk way too fast by this point. I need to chill.
His face was confusing me now. He looked shocked and a bit annoyed?
“OK, it’s like ..” I say as I take a deep breath and step backward in an attempt to build some space between us so I can think. “You know how fucking awesome McDonald's is when you’re hungover? And you eat it and you fucking love it? You can’t get enough! But!! If you eat it every day, it’s just not good anymore. It makes you sick and it tastes like shit.”
“Why are you talking like that? You have so much to offer. You’re … you!”
“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” I say quickly mimicking a dramatic face.
Why is he picking on this? “He's a bit annoying, actually” I think to myself.
“I mean like," I follow up in an attempt to seem calmer, more rational. "I like myself and I like what I bring to the table, it's just that .. it’s not really what people want or need.”
As we stand there, face to face so close that I can feel the vibrations inside his chest as words are leaving it, he calmly takes his gaze away from mine and moves it to my left hand.
He grabs it and places it on his chest, on top of his heart, his now solemn eyes returning to mine. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion, almost like a ritual.
"You are wrong," he finally says in the deepest tone I've ever heard him speak, staring into my eyes so profoundly that I felt he could see my soul.
With each beat of his heart, my hand began to pulsate. Even through his shirt, I can feel the strong ripples of his heartbeat expanding on each of my fingers. My little hand is now catching fire as it's sandwiched between his fiery heart and dominant palm.
“Because of me?” I mutter in absolute shock unable to take my eyes from his chest.
“You’ve always been here. Sometimes louder, sometimes quieter. Always here.”
“But you said I misinterpreted things.”
“You have. You were afraid to show me how you feel because you thought I didn’t feel the same. You misinterpreted.”
“Dick!” I say laughing.
I should have freaked but instead, I felt so calm and light that I wasn't sure I was still in my body. I felt as if I was floating away, anchored only by his heavy hand pressing the back of mine so tightly into his chest, that I was convinced it might just go in. We stood there for what seemed like days staring at each other, and I began to feel the most powerful, heated energy bursting out of my chest, pulling me towards him, needing to connect with his.
I felt as if I was downloading my sensations onto him, liberating myself from the extraordinary intensity inflicted on my body by his mere existence, which had consumed me my entire life. Gradually, I felt my body heat up, unveiling what was behind my eyes, inside me, and displaying it all on my face while I was hooked on his presence. In that moment, all I wanted to do was share my beyond-words, inner fire with him. I wanted him to know before he heard.
This human in front of me is my innermost, rawest, oldest memory stored in my body, which my subconscious has never allowed me to feel it. Until now.
Nothing else existed.
He is looking at me as if he is seeing me for the first time, as if he just realised he had always known the universe's deepest secret but had never wanted to believe it, until now, when the universe itself revealed it to him.
He is slowly running his long fingers around my neck and face, feeling every inch of my skin for the first time. I can feel his shallow breathing and how his body twitches every time I breathe out. He comes closer and starts to explore my face with his. With our eyes closed and in an almost meditative state, we only felt each other through heat and breaths.
Finally, I feel his face reaching my left ear, then hear him whisper what basically sounds like a confession.
“Max …”
“I know ...” I say with my eyes closed, touching his cheek with mine.
He opens his eyes and looks at me, caressing my face with his fingers. His right-hand moves across my cheek and brushes his thumb over my mouth. In return, I part my lips and without breaking eye contact I surround his thumb with my lips, biting it slightly and proceeding to suck it. In response, he bites his bottom lip and slowly leans down, moving his thumb toward the edge of my mouth. It felt like an explosion had just occurred in the room. The chemistry and emotions I had felt for years were now displayed on his face, staring back at me.
He takes a deep breath and says, "Since you left, there hasn't been a month that's gone by where I haven't thought about you and the few moments we spent together."
I feel my knees disengaging.
This entire evening is overwhelming, and I'm struggling to keep up with him and my own body. I remember he's always been deep and intense, which is one reason I ran away and never looked back. That kind of emotion and vulnerability used to make me uncomfortable and insecure. Suddenly, the rules of the game have changed for me and all I want is to be vulnerable. All I want is to tell him everything.
My mind is trying to rationalize this moment, but my body is vibrating on a whole different frequency. It feels like everything inside me has been fast asleep and has just been awakened by his presence, all at once. My head is spinning, my heart is ready to jump out of my chest, and my knees struggling to stay engaged. All the rom-com stereotypes have come to life inside me. I don't know if I'm going to faint, cry, run away, or shit myself. It's chaos inside me.
He finally leans in and touches my lips with his. Everything becomes quiet and still. All that exists now are my first love's lips sandwiched between mine. I inhale the sweet taste of his breath as we press our mouths into each other, deeply interlocking them into our first-ever swallow-me-whole kiss. I feel his hot bottom lip pressing between mine, his soft gasp in between his wholesome breaths, and the heaviness and wetness of his upper lip firmly on top of mine.
My attention is drawn to my hands, which are now pressing tightly into his back, responding to his shaky breath and pulling him closer to my body. It then dawned on me that, for the first time in my life, I knew without a doubt that, in that moment, another person feels exactly the same as me, that he is experiencing the intensity and electricity in the same way I am. I simply know. I finally feel connected to another human. It excited me. A deep, steamy chill ran through my entire body, through my mind, heart, stomach, clit, inside me.
It was almost like we had dropped below the real world, stepped out of the present, and gone underneath time.
As we sit next to each other on the sofa, I reach out and kiss him. He hungrily gives in. I climb on top of him. His lips are on fire. He is intense, strong yet protective. He reaches higher to feel my lips, thirsting for the energy exchange whilst clasping my back so close to him I felt crushed. In that euphoric moment, I let myself be crushed and pray the feeling never disappears. We continue to kiss passionately, moving in sync and deepening our closeness.
His hands are on my face, in my hair, on my back. There are no more boundaries or rational thoughts. I'm shifting gears because I now need a second to see him as well as feel him. I slowly open my eyes to see his fully engrossed face, his raw pleasure, his eyebrows frowned together looking at me with serious eyes as if he desperately needs to satisfy this urge he could no longer tame. His face looks like a combination of pain, anger and excitement. I am completely absorbed in it. We both take a second to check in and attempt to comprehend this new, wild state we’ve discovered in which urges escape us without control allowing us to fiercely and truthfully collide.
He dominantly grabs my waist and flips me down on the sofa so he’s on top of me. He stops again and looks at me from this new angle, smiling almost like he cannot believe what’s happening, caressing my entire body with his hands. I take my hands away from his neck and chest and take his t-shirt off. He looks shocked.
“Are you sure?” he asks me.
I smile and nod.
In that moment his face completely changed. He went from being the boy I had a crush on, whom I never really knew where I stood, to the man who was finally allowed to show what was behind his eyes. It felt as if he was finally allowed to show me the fire he has inside, as if he could finally give into his instincts.
It excited me beyond measure.
I take my t-shirt off too. We take a moment to look at each other naked. Despite having only just crossed this border, it feels normal, comfortable, familiar.
“Fuck! You’re hot! When did you get this hot?” I ask laughing and touching his abs with my hands.
“In the last 15 years or so.”
We chuckle.
I press my naked body against his and kiss him passionately. He then grabs me swiftly, pulling my legs on each side of his hips. He is on top kissing my neck, chest, breasts, exploring my entire body with his mouth. I feel intense warmth and pleasure underneath my panties, building faster than usual. And when it’s becoming so intense I literally cannot take it, my attention is drawn to my g spot, a place I rarely find as it seems to keep moving location. He pulls a pillow under my hips and now his fingers are inside me and his mouth is swallowing my clit. The high, sharp intensity has now shifted towards a low and profound pleasure that I feel radiating throughout my body. It’s wild but intimate. I let myself feel, showing him on my face what I am experiencing and how intensely. He can’t take his eyes off mine giving me more of what my face shows him I want.
My hands reach all over him, exploring his chest and arms. I climb on top of him and kiss him on every inch of his body, letting my breasts brush over his chest, stomach, penis.
I feel his soft-skinned, hard erection with my hands. I lick it from base to tip, cupping his butt with my hands and pulling his pelvis towards me. My tongue is playing with his tip, making his body involuntarily shake. I could feel his hand gripping my shoulders and hear his strong, aroused voice approving my actions. I look up at him and his face looks different. It’s fiery, loving, alive. He catches my eyes and strongly pulls me on top. I position myself perfectly,
“Fuck, Max!” he exclaims with a deep gasp, gripping me as we feel each other for the very first time.
We hold each other tight, face to face, chest to chest, finding our rhythm.
He then takes over. He is dominating, picks me up and swings me around so he is on top but he slips and we fell off the sofa.
“Ahh, shit!” I say laughing.
“Ahh! See? I told you my body feels like I’m 70.”
“Easy now, grandpa.”
We laugh and resume the feeling in our own time. He is on top, I can feel his weight all over me, see his face looking into my mind and soul. My entire existence feels like is going in override, every time I look at him and realise who he is, where we’ve been and where we are, I gasp more deeply, opening my mouth wider in an attempt to consume every particle of him I can. He replicates my fierceness.
We’ve lost control, lost in each other.
I go pee and come back to find him in the exact same spot, naked, looking up at the ceiling. I lie next to him and stay there for a moment, feeling our hearts slow down for the first time today.
He turns and looks at me with the most love and vulnerability I have ever seen on a person’s face. He has always had an honest face but this, this was next level. He kisses me slowly and profoundly and I feel the much familiar stomach and groin cramps build up.
“I loved you then and I love you still,” he told me softly.
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