Chapter 17 - Carmela

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Dear Diary,

            Love is complicated. We go about our lives trying to find it, and when we do, we try our best to protect it and hold onto it with a death grip because we're so afraid of never finding it again. I did that with Rodrigo. I clung to it until Ben showed me how love is supposed to feel.

He stayed with me in Melody's room till late in the night—lying on the bed facing each other. Ben was patient as I rambled about nonsense, thanks to the peyote amplifying everything around us. It felt like hours until I finally came down from hallucinating, but when I did, Melody disappeared, giving us time to be alone.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this."

"Don't be." He stroked a few curls out of my eyes. "It's not your fault."

"It's still embarrassing."

"Why?"

"Because." I shrugged and began toying with the loose threads in the comforter. "It just is."

"I'm the one who should be embarrassed."

"Why?"

"I lost my temper. Beat the shit out of your husband."

"You were worried. It's ok." I looked up at him.

"Yeah, but fighting is trashy. I don't like how you saw that side of me."

"So you'd rather hide parts of yourself from me?" I prodded.

"No. It's not that. It's because I like you so much. Maybe too much. And it's scary."

Leaning up on an elbow, I asked, "Why is it scary?"

"Because you've become important to me and what I feel for you is powerful. Like this energy that takes over and makes me step outside of myself. Usually, I'm private, but you have a way of extracting my honesty." He began rubbing the bridge of his nose and groaned. "I don't know. I'm not explaining this right."

"I think you did ok, as long as it's honest."

"It is, and that's why it's scary because you're married, so I shouldn't want you for myself, but I do."

"But I am yours." I caressed his face, and he placed his hand over mine, his eyes closing at the sensation of my touch. "And you are mine."

"I am." He nodded and opened his eyes. "And I know we haven't known each other for long, but during these last few weeks, my feelings for you have grown, and I've fallen in love with you, Carmela."

"What?"

"I've been in love with you for a while now. I tried fighting it, but I gravitate towards you like a magnet. I miss you when you're not around, and my heart aches when we part ways because I know you're leaving me to be with him. And there's nothing wrong with that. He's your husband, so I shouldn't get jealous when he puts his arms around you or kisses you, yet I do because it should be me who gets to do that."

My heart was already beating rapidly throughout the night from the drugs, but this was different. This was as if my heart had exploded from my chest and dove into his to embrace his heart. I searched his eyes, trying to find the lies in his words, but deep in my soul, I knew it was all true, so I began to cry. Then, as he wiped a lone tear trickling down my cheek, I felt the words bubble up to my throat and burst from my mouth.

"I love you too."

His thumb paused from rubbing my cheek, and he stared as if trying to detect the lies in my words too, so I repeated it.

"I love you, Ben. It's been a while for me too."

As if it was the assurance he needed, he rolled me onto my back and kissed me. It was the first time we were alone on a bed, which made my fingers tremble as I wrapped my arms around him and gripped his shirt. For weeks I daydreamed about making love to him. I fantasied about his mouth grazing the flesh of my neck and his hips thrusting against mine, but then he broke away from our kiss, and I whimpered in protest. He chuckled, his eyes beaming at me, and then pulled the shirt over his head, revealing the tattoo covering his chest.

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