Now here was one

Truly touched by the angels.

The light was so bright

we all looked away.

I wake up before Micah. The first thing that I do is call Jay to ask him to come pick up his friend. The second thing that I do is brush my teeth and wash my face. I make breakfast. I brew coffee. I put earbuds in and start listening to music on my phone and start cleaning up the apartment.

I do anything that I can possibly think of to get my mind off of the impending interaction that I'm going to have with Micah when he wakes up. I don't know what I'm going to say to him, or what he's going to say to me, but I think that it's all going to suck.

After organizing my book shelf and dusting it, I also dust the TV and the tops of the kitchen counters. I reorganize the stuff in my fridge, straighten up the coffee mugs in my cabinets, make my bed, scrub the toilet, organize my bookshelf again, and I'm cleaning the hardwood floors when I finally hear a noise in the back of the apartment.

I ignore it for as long as possible, but my heart is already beating faster and I have to grip the handle of the mop in my hands tightly to at least try and stay calm. I have my earbuds in still, which gives me a good excuse for ignoring the sounds of movement that I hear in the bedroom.

Even though he hasn't come out front yet, I'm so anxious about seeing Micah this morning that I end up mopping the same spot at least four times before I finally move on.

Jay said that he'd pick Micah up after he was finished golfing but he didn't say when that would be, so I don't know how long he's going to be here until Jay gets here. I will actually probably just call him an Uber to get him out of here as quickly as possible.

Just a week ago, I would give anything to just spend time with Micah. To be in the same room with him would make me feel like I was flying. Now, after last night, I just feel like I'm suffocating. And he's not even in the room yet.

As I turn around to start cleaning the floor near the kitchen counters, I stop when I notice Micah standing in the entry way to the living space. He's wearing the clothes that I'd given him last night, which is a t-shirt and pair of jeans that he'd forgotten a few weeks ago. We make eye contact almost immediately, so it's impossible to just pretend like I didn't see him there. Feeling resigned to my fate, I take out my ear buds and prop the mop up against the wall.

"Good morning," I say in a cracking voice. "I made coffee."

"Thanks," He responds with a deep, quiet voice.

"There's Aspirin on the counter too, if you need it," I add, crossing my arms over my chest. I had made some toast too, but I ate it all.

"El, I'm so sorry about last night, I-"

"Don't," I stop him from apologizing because I'm not really interested in hearing it. "Just fucking don't. Jay should be here soon to give you a ride home."

"I was so drunk," He ignores me. "I know that I was being such a jerk, I didn't mean any of it."

"It doesn't really matter," I mutter as I'm texting Jay to see where he is because if he's not going to be here soon, I'm going to order an Uber for Micah. "You're obviously never going to get over what I did, so it doesn't matter."

"Never is a strong word," He says to me. "Look, it's just that all of those questions that I was asking you, I've been wondering about them all week, but I just wasn't sure how to ask them without sounding like an ass. But then I got drunk and I sounded like more of an ass than I probably ever have before. I'm sorry that it all came out like that."

"I think that 'never' is pretty applicable here. You've been thinking about how much I would charge you if you were a customer instead of my boyfriend? You've been wondering what dresses I wear when I work? If I've had orgasms with other people? If you've been thinking about those questions all week, then this obviously freaks you out too much. Which is fine, I guess. Whatever. Just don't apologize, because it doesn't matter. I only brought you back here because I work for your dad and he told me to take you home."

"It's a lot to process, El," He reminds me. "I'm sorry if I'm asking the wrong questions but it's all I've been able to think about all week. Yes, it freaked me out and I'm still kind of freaked out. I'm sorry. There's so much going through my head and I don't know what the right way to act is. Obviously, not how I acted last night. I'm just trying to process this is all."

"I know that a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. That's what they say, isn't it?" My voice is starting to crack and I know that I'm about to start crying but at least I don't have makeup on this time. "You were talking to me like I was trash. Like I was just some whore, a joke to you. You're clearly absolutely disgusted by me now. And I get it—I feel disgusting about myself now too. But I don't think that I have to let you treat me like trash because of it. I think that it's still okay for me to expect you to treat me like a human being."

"Eleanor, I don't think those things about you," Micah insists quickly. "I'm thinking a lot of things right now, and a lot of that is bitterness. I'm bitter, so I was being cruel because of how bitter I am. I know that it's wrong, and that I shouldn't have done it. But I wasn't acting like that because it's how I feel, I just wanted to get under your skin and I'm sorry."

"I'm getting you an Uber," I decide, unlocking my phone's screen to open up the app.

"No," He stops me. "We need to talk about this. We should have talked about it last weekend, but I've had some time to think now and I'm ready to talk. Are you?"

"I think you've done plenty of talking, Micah," I remind him slowly. "I don't think that we have anything else to talk about."

"So that's it?" His brow furrows in frustration. "You're just going to give up? Look, I know that I fucked up a lot last night, and I shouldn't have told you that I would be okay with all of your secrets no matter what. But you fucked up here too. You were sleeping with other people during our entire relationship. We've both messed up here, but do you really want to give up on us just because I got too drunk and said some crappy things?"

He's right, but I don't want to admit it. He did hurt me a lot last night, but he was drunk and I know that it's not an excuse but that also means that I don't want to ruin the possibility of us getting back together just because of one drunken night. I lean against the back of the couch, dry my eyes, and look up at him. "Fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"I still have a lot of questions," He tells me. "I don't want to sound judgmental, I just... I feel like I need answers."

"Okay," I take a deep breath. "Sure, what do you want to know?"

"When were you with these other guys?" Micah asks me his first question.

"The first one was the night before we went to the gardens," I begin to answer him. "And the second one was the night before we stayed in with Chipotle. I talked about you all night and then after he fell asleep, I spent most of the night crying in the bathroom because I felt so guilty about what I was doing to you. The third time was that Wednesday. We had talked that day about my new clothes for starting work at your dad's office. It was a party with a bunch of business execs and there were other escorts there too. I didn't sleep with anybody at the party, but I went down on one of them.

During my first week of working for your dad, I had two clients. One on Tuesday and one on Thursday. The week after that, just one on Monday. Do you want more details about what happened or is that good enough?"

"How much money did you make?"

"About fifteen grand."

"How many people have you been with in total?" He asks me the dreaded question.

"I don't know," I say it quickly, like ripping it off like a Band-Aid. Personally, I don't really care about the fact that I don't know how many people I've slept with. It's like a waiter doesn't know how many meals they've served. Just saying it out loud though, it sounds so embarrassing. Especially considering Micah told me last night that he's only slept with less than seven people in his life. Granted, our lives are very different and he's never been put in the situation that I have, it just feels bad. "But I'm healthy, and clean. I got tested all of the time, and I always used protection, even with girls."

"Girls?"

"Yeah," Even though the situation is serious, I can't help but laugh at how surprised he looks right now. "Mic, I've done a lot of things. I'm not really into it but there are people out there who will pay boat loads of money to watch two girls do it in front of them. If you want to go in depth about what I've done in the past two years as an escort, I don't mind going into that. I'm not ashamed of what I've done for money, up until I met you. I'm ashamed of the seven times that I went behind your back but other than that, I'm totally fine with how I've made a living."

"Are you still doing this?" He asks me.

"No, they don't let you come back once you've been arrested. And because they didn't actually charge me, they can arrest me again if they get more proof. So even if they'd let me come back, I wouldn't. It's too dangerous now," I explain to him.

"What if you didn't get caught... would you have ever told me?"

"Yes, eventually. It would have taken me a long time to work up the courage, but I would have figured out how to tell you," I assure him. "I did try to tell you once, when I was going to give you my journal. I've written about it, so you would have figured it out when you read it."

"I know that it's ridiculous to say this, but I felt like you thought that I wasn't enough. Like you needed better sex, or a better thrill, or something better than what I was giving you," He explains to me. "And how could I have not noticed what was going on?"

"You thought that I needed better sex?" I repeat back to him slowly because it surprises me so much to hear him say that. "Micah, I have slept with a bunch of people in the past two years and some of it has been amazing, but I promise you that you were hands down the best. I just really needed the money. I mean, I still need the money but with the job with your dad and Silas helping with Casey's school, I'm keeping my head above water. As for not noticing what was going on, don't feel bad about that. Casey has lived here this whole time without catching on. I was good at hiding it."

Micah slides down the wall so that he's sitting on the ground and he takes a few deep breaths before he says, "Okay. That's good to hear."

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"I don't know," He admits slowly. "I thought that getting some answers would help, but it doesn't. I still don't know what I'm thinking and I still can't stop picturing you with those other guys while we've been together."

"There's nothing left that I can say to somehow make this situation better," I tell him. "Except that maybe that it was never emotional for me. I mean, it was my job. You know? It was no different for me than going to wait tables or something. Everything that I ever told you about how I feel about you was honest."

Micah lets out a long, deep sigh with his brow furrowed as he seems to be trying to focus on what he wants to do next.

"I've done all that I can," I continue when he doesn't say anything. "I've apologized, explained myself, and I answered all of your questions. I didn't murder you when you were being awful last night. I don't know what else I can do."

"I think that I just need some time," He says slowly. He starts to say something else but he's stopped when there's a knock on the front door.

I answer it and welcome Jay into the apartment. I'm not sure how I feel now about Micah leaving though. It's so nice to see him again, and to be able to talk about everything. It's really uncomfortable but it's better than the radio silence from this past week.

"You're still alive," Jay notes when he sees Micah sitting on the floor. "That's a good sign. Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Micah confirms as he gets up from the floor and then heads into the back to get his suit from last night. While he gets all of his things together, I decide in that moment to give him my book of poems. There are no more secrets but maybe it'll help him understand, I guess.

"Was he a total disaster?" Jay asks me while we're waiting for Micah to get ready.

"Yes," I confirm with a nod as I'm grabbing the book from where it's sitting on top of the book shelf.

"He'll get better at this," He assures me. I'm not sure what he means by 'this', but I'm tired and I don't want to ask.

When Micah returns with his shoes on and his suit hanging over his forearm, they head for the door.

"Here," I speak up before they're out the door. I push the book into Micah's hands. "Read it."

He looks down at the book and then up at me. "You sure?"

"Yeah, whatever, just take it," I sigh, turning away from him because I can't look him in the eye right now. Once they're gone, I finish my cup of coffee and lie back in bed. That conversation went better than I had expected it to go but it still left us in a weird land where I'm completely unsure of our future.

Jay seems to think that Micah will get over this but by the way he was acting last night, and how freaked out he still seems about it all, I'm not so sure. I'm okay right now just knowing that at least he's thinking about it. Although is slight, there is a chance that this isn't the end for us.