Dear Diary, I'm Finding Myself

Old Sins Forgiven, New Sins Made

I’m still met with silent treatment the next morning. He does share a good morning greeting with me, but that’s about it. I try not to push him, because I know this is all my fault. I’ve brought this upon myself, so I don’t have the right to force him into forgiving me.

The fact that he puts the watch on his wrist when he gets dressed, makes it seem promising, though. I go to college with a heavy feeling resting at the bottom of my chest, refusing to unclench its grip even as I’m already walking to the Arts and Science building.

We have Mr. Rodriguez for the whole morning, and it’s a welcome distraction from my current life. I bury myself into the lesson, listening intently and trying to cooperate as much as I can. The professor seems quite happy with that and I’m finally content with myself.

My classes are short today, so I’m able to make it to Fox a little earlier than usual. My superiors and colleagues are happy to see me there, and once I meet my boss, I finally realize why everyone is so eager to see me.

He puts his hand on my shoulder, making me stiffen a little, but then I remind myself that he’s just being friendly. “Perrie. Perrie, Perrie, Perrie. Thanks to you, the weather website has the top performance out of all departments! Congratulations!” he expresses his enthusiasm.

“Thank you, I tried my best,” I simply say, not knowing what else to tell him. It’s the truth and it’s really that simple. Apart from the fact that I ruined my boyfriend’s birthday to go through with that interview.

He shakes his head in disbelief, then leans a little closer to whisper: “Good job. If you have any other suggestions, you’re free to bring them up whenever you want. I’m counting on you. You’re a real star in the making.”

I smile at him happily, finally having something else but anxiety take over my chest. Pride. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. In fact, I might have something we could start working on soon,” I begin, then proceed to fill him in on the rest of my ideas.

I dare to mention even the most out-of-the-box ones, because he’s given me the so badly wanted space to spread my wings. Figuratively speaking, of course. I finally feel like I’m being appreciated and I can’t help but think about what this means for my future. I’m doing well. Maybe I’ll get into the Times sooner than I imagined!

As I get home that day, Hunter’s already there. Cooking. As I come with that old piece of birthday cake that I bought for him yesterday, I put on my most sheepish expression. Because right now, I can’t hide from him. Maybe that’s why I’m avoiding coming home lately. He’s the only person that opens up the wound that I’m hiding from everyone else, because he sees me. he truly sees me.

He glances at the box, then lets out a soft sigh. He turns towards the counter for a moment, continuing to chop onions, then finally decides to wash his hands and walk over to me. As he stops in front of my face, I realize I’m holding my breath.

“Is this supposed to bribe me?” he wonders, and I blink in defeat. Yeah, Perrie, you can’t solve things with a piece of his favorite cake. I shrug, not knowing what to tell him in response. It wasn’t meant to be a bribery, it was supposed to be part of his birthday gift.

“No. But it does come from that pastry shop that you wanted to visit on our day trip to New York, but it was closed,” I say, hoping that it’s going to help me pull myself out of this mess. Once again, the mess that I put myself into.

He stares at the box for a moment, noticing the logo on top. He pouts, like he’s trying to decide what to say, then takes it out of my hands and opens it. I can see the way his eyes glisten as he realizes that I got him his favorite flavor. “Chocolate, raspberry, pistachio?” he mumbles defeatedly.

I nod the moment he returns his gaze towards me. He looks like he’s about to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, he carries the cake towards the fridge, while I start taking my coat off and putting my things away.

As I head towards the counter to continue chopping the onion, because I know how much he hates to do that, he finally speaks up. “Thanks,” he tells me, and now I’m the one nodding in response. I don’t really know how to act around him, knowing that I hurt him so badly.

“It’s the least I could do,” I say, almost slapping myself the moment the words leave my mouth. Yeah, the least I could do is be a decent person and come home in time, instead of doing that interview so late.

Suddenly, I feel him snaking his arms around me, making me stiffen. He stiffens too, already starting to pull them away, but I quickly put the knife down and grab him before he manages to leave.

“Don’t, please,” I practically beg him. I turn my head back and upwards, meeting his calm gaze. I basically feel myself drowning inside his bright green eyes, but I’m not able to say anything else, because he already starts talking.

“I thought you couldn’t … Never mind,” he says, staring at me like he sees me for the first time. I can feel my eyes watering up, but it’s not from the damn onion. Which is making them sting like hell. Ugh, I hate chopping onions, too.

“It’s not your fault. Nothing is your fault, it’s all on me. And it was me who hurt you yesterday, despite knowing how much it mattered to you that I’d at least spend the afternoon by your side. And I’m the worst girlfriend in the world for not being there,” I blurt out before I’m able to stop myself.

He watches me fight the tears, then clears his throat in an awkward way. “I … Look, I’m only mad because you didn’t tell me as soon as you found out. I get it okay. You’re working hard to get what you want, but if you only took that one minute to text me that you’ll be late, because the interview got rescheduled, I wouldn’t be half as mad. I’d be disappointed, yeah, but I’d at least get to stay in New Haven or something and celebrate with my friends. Instead, I cooked myself dinner and waited around like an i***t, for you to come home,” he speaks up.

Hearing those words is hard, but I can’t really get mad. He’s told the truth. No matter how hard of a pill it is to swallow. “I know … I’m really angry with myself, because I didn’t tell you right away. There’s … There’s no excuse for that, really.”

He sighs, watching me with a mixture of anger and relief in his eyes. It’s an unusual combination. “But you brought me cake,” he remarks, making me send him a puzzled look. I don’t get where he’s going with this.

“Yeah, I … I brought you cake,” I literally repeat after him, not knowing what else to say. He sighs, then slowly spins me around in his arms, so I don’t have to break my neck anymore, trying to look into his eyes.

“And you bought me the watch that I was dreaming about for the past half year, even if I couldn’t really afford it with our expenses,” he continues, making me bite my lower lip. Is he mad at me because of that? Should I get him something else?

“Well, I … I … I earned some extra money and I … I thought you’d be happy to finally have it,” I try to defend myself, not knowing what he’s trying to tell me know. Color me confused. Like, really confused. He pulls me a little closer.

“I am. You didn’t have to buy it, but I’m really happy that you did. It means a lot to me,” he lets me know. I’m holding my breath in anticipation as I realize how close we’re standing. Does this mean …? “I don’t think I took the chance to thank you properly,” he then claims.

Before I’m able to respond, he leans down and presses a soft, longing kiss on my lips. I stiffen at first, because I’ve been kind of avoiding physical touching with him since … Well, since Halloween. But I can’t help but give in now.

I can’t hurt him even more. He’s finally warming up to me, I can’t ruin that. This is Hunter. He loves me and he’d never hurt me. I don’t have to be afraid of him. I don’t have to turn his touch away, because I love him.

As he pulls away, he stays close to my face, watching me in a way that I can’t really decipher. My head is spinning from how long the kiss lasted, it’s making me feel a little dizzy. We haven’t kissed like that in weeks.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, making my lower lip tremble. Perrie, don’t cry, don’t be so ridiculous. You don’t have to get so damn emotional, it’s not what you’re really doing anymore, right? No overly dramatic feelings.

“Thank you. For forgiving me,” I murmur, emphasizing who really deserves the thanks. Because I don’t. Not at all. He runs his hand through my hair, still holding me close. It’s making me feel a little alerted, but I try to brush the feeling away.

As I’ve said, Hunter isn’t going to hurt me. I don’t have to be afraid of him, no matter how much bigger and stronger than me he is. He’s my Hunter. He’ll never do me any harm. No matter how traumatized I am.

“I couldn’t really stay mad at you, when it wasn’t even your fault that you had to stay longer. We can still use the weekend to spend time together. Or this evening, maybe,” he suggests. His words finally make a smile appear on my face.

I nod, saying: “I’d love that.” Shortly said, we spend the afternoon cooking and eating together. Obsessing over the cake I brought, because it still tastes amazing, even if it’s a day old. Then, we binge watch our favorite true crime shows and fall asleep cuddling.

I’m so grateful for him, not trying to push me into anything more. Even if I want to give it to him. We haven’t been intimate since that night and I’m trying to make myself do it … I was planning to break that cycle on his birthday, but it didn’t go as planned.

But I’m not ready. I know that now. If I tried to initiate anything, it would only result in a panic attack. I know myself well enough to be able to see that. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. Not until now.

So, I find myself grateful that I’m able to fall asleep with his arm hanging around my waist. A week ago, this would send me into panic mode. Maybe I’ll get over this soon. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I thought it would be.

We’re know less than a week away from Thanksgiving and I’m spending my last few days at college and at Fox, while Hunter is already free one day sooner. He uses is to work in the lab, though, instead of sitting at home.

As I get to college, I actually find myself wishing that I didn’t have to go home today. I mean, I’d love to see my family, I miss them dearly. But I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep up my façade, especially since no one knows what happened. If anyone suspects, even in the slightest, that something’s off about me, they’ll stop at nothing to drag it out of me.

I force myself to push my feelings away once again, deciding to focus on school. We’re handing our essays in during literature class. This time, I picked a little lighter subject, because I didn’t have the time or the will to fight through something really difficult. I’ll just read them later during the year.

You can imagine my surprises as something really strange happens to me. To make things clear, I always keep a good eye on my stuff. But this morning, before the class began, I had to go to the restroom. As I came back, I didn’t notice anything unusual. My things were just where I left them.

However, as Mr. Rodriguez walks around the classroom, picking up our essays, I hand it over to him and make something fall out of the folded paper. I’m too confused to pick it up, but the professor does. It looks like some sort of note. I’m not sure why it’s pink, though. And covered in hearts, I think.

As Mr. Rodriguez scans it through, his eyes narrow. Once he turns the piece of paper towards me, he hisses in the most unfriendly tone I’ve ever heard him use: “What is this?”