30. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Cody

“Young Cody! Come in, come in. How are things? Take a seat. Tell me everything.” Victor beams at me like I’m exactly the person he was waiting for. I don’t know how he does it, but my shoulders instantly lower a few inches and that nervous flutter in my stomach settles a little. I return his smile, shrugging.

“Good, I guess,” I mumble as I take the seat across from him. I don’t even know where to start. So much has happened since the last time I sat across from Victor and told him about my concerns about letting Luke into my life and my heart. Because now I have let him in.

“Good, good,” Victor repeats, rubbing his hands together. “So, I guess I wasn’t hallucinating when I saw you and Luke leave the group session together this Saturday, holding hands.” My cheeks instantly heat. We did hold hands as we left. All on its own, my hand found his, or perhaps it was the other way around, as we left the room. I forget. It happens instinctually every time we go somewhere, just like my lips automatically find his in the morning when I wake up, Luke still snoring softly next to me. I always wake up first, savoring those few precious minutes before he becomes conscious of the fact that I’m ogling him, secretly drinking him in.

I can’t wait until summer. To see how his face looks in the morning when those first frail rays of sunlight bathe it in pinks and oranges. I bet he glows. He always glows when light hits his face. His gorgeous face. He’s my last conscious thought before I fall asleep at night and the first place my sleep-drunk mind goes to when I wake up. I don’t sleep in my bed anymore. It wasn’t something we talked about; it just happened all on its own. I used to toss and turn at night, a million thoughts buzzing through my head. I should’ve done so and so differently. I should’ve said and done A instead of B. Or C, D, or E. Now this calm overtakes me as soon as my head hits my pillow, Luke wrapped around me like an octopus, his strong arms holding me, my back flush against his chest. I feel… strangely grounded, the feel of his heavy thigh resting over my hip, his arms tugging me impossibly close against him until I can no longer tell which is his heartbeat and which is mine.

Victor clears his throat and when I look up, he offers me a knowing smirk, his eyes filled with amusement.

See, this is what happens lately. At the mere mention of Luke, and I forget myself. Where I am. Everything aside from him blurs into the background. One thought takes another until I’m on a fast train to Luke Land with what I assume must be a dopey look on my face.

“No, you weren’t,” I say, my reply long overdue. “Luke and I are together now. He’s… my boyfriend.” It still feels strange to call him that, the word so… so insufficient to relay all the feelings that inhabit my chest these days. All the thoughts that rush through my head when I think of him. Which brings me to why I’m here in the first place.

“Yes!” Victor pumps his fist, his hair wild, eyes beaming. He looks like some crazy-ass 70s tennis player with that longish hair and out-of-control beard. He just needs the headband, and he’s perfect. “That’s great news, Cody. Great news,” he repeats, mostly to himself. I nod. It is. Great. My life’s great lately and I have a sneaking suspicion it’s the reason why my anxiety has been showing its ugly face again. I have so much to lose suddenly. My place on the team. Luke. Luke .

“So, what brings you here today? I take it you decided to be brave,” Victor smiles as he rummages around under the desk. His upper body disappears for a few seconds and then he reappears with a triumphant look on his face and a mid-size Tupperware container in his hands. “I made cookies,” he says proudly. “Wifey told me to bring them to work. Said they were too good, and she’d end up eating them all,” he positively beams, eyes bright and overspilling with warmth. “Here,” he pops the lid, and the scent of chocolate fills the air. I’m not really a cookie person per se, but my eye catches something mixed in with the chocolate.

“Are those peanuts?” I moan. I fucking moan in Victor’s office. But I love peanuts. I just do. I mean, look at my Reese’s addiction. It’s out of control lately, Luke’s supply never-ending, feeding my addiction.

“Sure is!” Victor replies eagerly before his face falls just a tad. “You’re not allergic, are you, Cody?” I shake my head quickly, “No, no. Nothing like that. More addicted, if anything,” I smile, licking my lips, drool already gathering in my mouth.

“Excellent!” Victor exclaims, back to full-on lighthouse level beaming. “Here,” he holds out the container toward me. “Have one. Or even better,” he laughs, “take two.” I quickly grab one, then another.

“Thanks,” I say. I take a tentative bite of the cookie, and you know that feeling? From your childhood, when your parents told you they’d planned a day filled with fun for you? You’d been waiting for that day to arrive for ages, butterflies in your stomach, unable to sleep the night before. You remember that feeling of utter, unfiltered anticipation? You know what I’m talking about, right? You probably anticipated a visit to NASA space camp or something like that? Jurassic Park -level shit. Or Disneyland . And then they dragged you to some veteran train museum or one of those Civil War exhibitions with people running around in costumes, reenacting the Battle of Fort Sumter or some shit like that. And there were senior citizen Civil War enthusiasts all around you with their cameras snap-snap-snapping and screaming middle schoolers trying to steal some prop before their teacher noticed. Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.

Once Victor’s cookie, for lack of a better word, hits my tongue, I instantly regret taking two. Not only is the cookie burned, but the taste of bitter chocolate fills my mouth. No, it’s dry. As in I-feel-like-I’ve-walked-hours-in-the-Sahara-Desert-without-a-drink-of-water kind of dry. Once I swallow, I start coughing, my hand flying to my mouth to prevent a cloud of dust or, God forbid, lumps of peanut from leaving my mouth. Through watery eyes, I take in Victor’s expectant face.

“Good, right?” He smirks. He smirks knowingly. “Hits you just right, that taste of chocolate and nuts, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” I manage to croak. “It’s real… intense .” Thankfully, Victor looks satisfied.

“So, where were we?” he claps his hands. “Ah, yes, young Cody. You decided to be brave!” Swallowing, I nod at him, not yet trusting my voice completely. “Tell me about it,” Victor leans back in his chair, linking his fingers together across his protruding belly, resembling a Coloradan version of Freud.

“Yeah, something like that,” I finally say. I don’t see myself as brave. Never that. But I guess to the outside, to someone like Victor, I did do a brave thing, letting Luke into my heart.

“But I can tell that you still worry, am I right?” Victor comes to my rescue. I shift in my chair and look up at him, nodding.

“Yes,” I whisper.

“What do you worry about, Cody?” What do I worry about? Well, let me see, Victor. How long do you have?

“I worry about…” I swallow, the words getting stuck in my throat with the remnants of Victor’s cookie from hell. Beads of sweat pebble across my forehead and I suddenly feel lightheaded.

“Take a deep breath, buddy,” Victor says. “This is a safe space. You know that, right? Nothing you say here is wrong or unimportant. It’s all valid, Cody, just like you are valid,” he reassures me, and I want to drop to the floor and worship him because he always seems to know exactly what to say. Victor should never in a million years be allowed near an oven again, but when it comes to being a therapist, this guy is the real deal. Nodding, I wipe my hands along my face.

“We’re… we’re intimate,” I mumble, Luke’s kiss-bruised lips flashing before me. “We… we kiss, and we hold each other. I… I sleep in his bed now…” I trail off.

“And how do you feel about this?” Victor asks, his face neutral.

“I… I like it. I really like it. I like Luke. He’s very… I don’t know what the right word is. Careful with me? Yeah, I guess that’s it. Like he waits for me to lead the way. Like he… Like he doesn’t want to cross any lines with me.” It’s true. Luke is so tentative and careful and patient and still…

“And still, you worry?” Victor steals my thoughts. Of course he does. If there’s an Oracle in Aurora, then it’s Victor. I nod, and before I realize it, a solitary tear, then another, breaks free from my eyes.

“It’s okay,” Victor says, pushing a box of tissues across the desk, toward me. There’s a strange comfort in that. That they are there. Must mean I’m not the only one who cries in Victor’s office. Unless he has seasonal allergies. But it’s winter now so… I pull a tissue from the box and wipe at my eyes, but the tears have decided to fall freely now, and the tissue is already soaked through.

“What do you worry about, Cody?” Victor asks, his voice so gentle. Everything . I worry about everything, and again, Victor seems to read my mind because he adds, “Right now.” I swallow and the sound is so loud in my head that I wonder if Victor notices, too. But when I look up, his face is stoic, unfazed, waiting for me to speak. So, I tell him what’s in my head.

“I still worry that Luke will want more. More than me. Physically.” Victor nods, leaning back in his chair.

“That’s a valid concern,” he says. “It’s a valid concern in any relationship. Expectations. That they don’t align. And in an ace relationship, perhaps even more so.”

“So… it’s normal?” I croak.

“It is,” Victor hums, “but even if it wasn’t, it’s still valid. Everything you feel is valid, Cody.” There’s a finality to his words that strikes me hard. “You matter, Cody. You ,” he stresses the word, “matter more than anything.” And then the stupid tears come again because not once in my life have I felt that way. That I matter. And now Victor says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Say it,” he coaxes, and at first, I think he’s joking.

“What…” I shake my head.

“Say it,” he repeats. “Say, ‘ I, Cody, matter more than anything ’.”

“I…” I start, looking down at the floor.

“Go on, son.”

“I matter.” I look up at him. He nods at me, a soft smile on his lips. “I matter,” I repeat. “More than anything.”

“You do,” Victor smiles broadly, proudly, like I’ve just climbed Mount Everest. “Now, say it again.”

“Again?” I squeak. Victor chuckles.

“Yes, again. Ideally, you’ll say it until you believe it, but we both know that Rome wasn’t built in a day. It takes practice believing in your own worthiness. But we’ll get there.” We. I’m not alone in this. Victor is with me. I inhale slowly.

“I matter more than anything,” I say, and it’s not like in the movies. There’s no revelation of divine proportions. No radiant light hitting me from the sky. No choir of angels rejoicing a loud ‘ Hallelujah, he gets it! ’ But there’s hope. There’s hope.

“Good,” Victor hums. “Now, tell me about your boundaries.”

“My boundaries?”

“Yes. Your boundaries when it comes to intimacy. We all have them, but most of us aren’t aware of them.” My boundaries? My. Boundaries. “We cannot truly let go with someone else unless we fully understand ourselves. Our needs. Our desires. And most importantly, our boundaries. Do you know your boundaries, Cody?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. It’s…” I trail off, frustration building. Why am I so clueless about everything?

“It’s never something you’ve thought about, right?” Victor says. I shake my head, mumbling, “no.”

“Well, it’s something you’ll have to dive into. Because in any relationship, it’s essential to be vocal about your natural boundaries. How can we let go and trust others if we do not know ourselves? If we do not trust our own bodies to tell us when it’s enough or too much?”

When he puts it like that, it totally makes sense. How can I trust Luke not to cross my boundaries when I don’t know them myself?

“But how do I do that?” I sigh, resignation lingering in my voice. I have no idea where to even start.

“Now, now, don’t give up already,” he chuckles. “There are several trust exercises that I can recommend that are beneficial for voicing your physical needs with a partner. And discover the natural limits of your intimate relationship. There’s one in particular,” Victor rubs at his hair, “that I think could be a good place to start, but it will take a little courage on your part, Cody. So, the question is, do you feel courageous?”