Too Close for Comfort • jdb ( #wattys2016 )

(29) Truth Be Told.. Part I

Mary

"Ok, bye Clarissa." I hang up the phone, not wanting to hear another second of her yelling bloody murder at me after hearing my decision.

I have to admit, the whole Paris thing really weighed heavy on my mind beforehand, but after seeing Justin's hurt expression and the way he couldn't even stand the thought of me leaving, my answer was as clear as day.

Money, fame, fortune, none of it mattered if I couldn't be with him.

So now here I am, standing outside of the heavy glass doors of the gym, watching like a stalker as the extremely built love of my life lifts weights like he's the motherfucking Hulk.

Memories come flooding back about the last time we were in this position...

When I walked out of my apartment with wet hair and even wetter pictures in my head after seeing him naked for the first time in my shower.

I remember how during the argument we had that day, how he was able to read my feelings me like a children's nursery rhyme, and how it scared me to death knowing that someone knew me so well.

That was 6 months ago. Now here I am. All this time later, scared once again.

This time though, it's a different type of fear. This type of fear stems from the fact that I have never found myself loving someone so much in my life.

I love him so much that my heart literally aches inside my chest. Screw butterflies. I feel the whole zoo when I'm with him. And that's a feeling I'm not willing to let go of. Ever.

I open the door only to be hit by the cool air of the gym. It's super late, so no one else is in here. I don't even know why the gym is still open at this hour too be quite honest.

"Hey, stranger." I smile nervously, causing Justin to look up at me with a sweaty and exasperated expression. He pauses for a second, before putting the what seems to be a 100 pound weight back on it's stand. His chest is sweaty and glistening under the strong light fixtures of the room, making me lick my lips slightly at how perfect he looks right now.

Not the time, Mary.

"Shouldn't you be packing for Paris?" he asks bitterly, sitting down on the bench and wiping the remaining sweat off his face with a towel.

I cross my arms and click my tongue over my teeth, not letting his bad mood stop me from getting my point across. "Justin, I turned it down."

His head shoots up at me. "What?" he asks disbelievingly.

I sigh, walking over to him. "I just got off the phone with Clarissa. I told her there's no way I could travel 4,000 miles to Paris, when my heart was right here in New York." I put my hands on his sweaty shoulder blades.

He puts his hands on either side of waist and strokes up and down. "M-Mary, you can't do that." he says sadly.

I furrow my eyebrows. "What do you mean? I thought you were mad that I was going."

"I was mad that you didn't tell me earlier," he clarifies. "But I would never want you to give up your dream for the sake of me."

I smile slightly and sit on his lap. His moist body contrasting with the hem of my dress. "Justin, as far as I'm concerned, you are my dream. And no place, whether it's New York, or Paris or whatever, would feel right without you there."

He glances at me with eyes full of appreciation as he rests his hand on my mid thigh and studies my face like I'm the most exquisite painting in the gallery.