“Like, a ‘we-need-to-talk’ talk? Because those are never good.”
“No. It’s an ‘I-really-like-you-so-I’m-going-to-spill-my-guts-to-you-even-though-I’m-nervous-you-won’t-like-me-anymore-after-I-do’ talk.”
He pulled me in close and wrapped his arms around me. My head dropped to his chest as I hugged him back. God, this felt good. He kissed the top of my head and said, “I like that kind of talk. Don’t be nervous, baby. I really like you too. Nothing you can say will change that.”
“You understood everything I just said?” I knew I said it too fast. I was too nervous not to. I’d hoped he got the gist of it at least, but he actually responded to almost every word I said.
He simply nodded like it was no big deal. He had no idea how many people wouldn’t have understood me. Even my mom and dad wouldn’t have gotten it. I was about to enlighten him on all that, and I hoped it wouldn’t change what looked like his easy acceptance of it. Of me.
“Want to stay and talk here? I don’t want to be distracted by driving.”
“No, if it’s okay with you, it’s easier to talk when we’re doing something and you aren’t just staring at me.”
He nodded in understanding.
I got my shoes and purse, and when I returned to the front hallway, he was standing patiently by the door. He took my hand, waited while I locked up, and led me to his car. He opened my door, but before I moved to go in, he stopped me with a hand on my arm.
“Juls.” He waited for me to meet his eyes. “It’s going to be okay. Promise.” He kissed my forehead sweetly, then went slowly around to his side of the car, giving me the moment I needed to pull myself together before facing him again.
He locked the doors, pulled out of the driveway, and asked for a few minutes to get out of the busy downtown area. Finally he turned to me and said, “Okay, I’m listening.”
Shit. Why did I tell him I wanted to talk about it? Now I couldn’t back out easily. He grasped my hand and squeezed it gently. “Juls?”
“Okay, so, I… I have dyspraxia. Do you know what that is?”
“No.”
“It’s a developmental disorder. It was worse when I was younger, but I know how to handle it better now.”
“Are you sick?” He glanced over at me quickly, worry furrowing his brows.
“No, it’s not like that. It’s why my speech is the way it is and why I got so weird at dinner that night. And why I’m so awkward sometimes.”
“So what is it? How does it affect you?”
“It’s kinda vague and affects everyone differently. There’s a list—actually a lot of different lists—and if you can check off enough things on the list, you may have dyspraxia. It’s not obvious to diagnose, and I didn’t even know I had it until I learned about it in college during my OT classes. At first, I thought only my speech was affected, but the more I learned about it, the more things started to make sense.”
“That sounds tough, to figure out something so big about yourself as an adult.”
“It was actually a huge relief. I thought I was bad at so many different things. But, suddenly, there was just this one thing that explained all of it.”
Shit, this was the hardest part. It was one thing to talk in vague terms, it was another to list all my weaknesses, to lay out everything I hated about myself in full view for a man I desperately wanted to impress.
“Do…do you…I’m going to tell you how it affects me. Okay?”
He glanced at me before looking back at the road, his hands tight on the steering wheel. “You don’t have to do that. We’ll figure each other out as we go along. You don’t need to tell me now.”
I inhaled a deep breath and slowly blew it out. I forced my hands to unclench. “I do need to. If it’s more than you can handle, I’d rather know now.”
He reached his hand out and I watched as it slowly landed on my leg, just above my knee. He rubbed his fingers in a soothing circle. “I really wish we weren’t driving. I want to hold you and reassure you more than I can in the car.”
“I don’t know if I could get through this if you were looking at me.”
“Go ahead, tell me all the things you think will turn me off, so then I can reassure you that they won’t.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t dismiss it.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dismiss it. Fuck, baby, I don’t know what to say. I’m listening.”