Chapter 6: One Bed Hotel
1375 Words
Eleanor's POV
“Has… Has that been an issue for you in the past?" Paul asks me.
I dreaded the question. But didn't expect anything less from him. After Paul practically bared his soul to me about his fears of returning to Philly to see his sister, I felt like I owed him honesty when he asked me the question if I had ever been in love.
I glanced over at Paul to see his blue eyes pinned on me and not on the road. He glances back to the road before glancing back at me. There was so much being conveyed in his eyes. I have never met a man who made me feel so cared for.
“My mother." With my words he brought his attention back to the road, his body stiff in the seat his knuckles white on the steering wheel. “If anything, she likes her control. It's like a game to her. To test the limits of how much she can control and get away with."
I fidgeted my hands in my lap. “At first, it was innocent, I think. Typical perhaps. Mothers want the best for their daughters. Especially in who they marry. But in my mother's own marriage game she found that a good union brought on its own perks. Perks that not one benefited the wife but the family."
Paul nodded for me to continue.
“My mother was obsessed with what she would stand to gain from whoever I married. She wasn't obvious about her intentions in the beginning. I met these random guys at coffee shops in high school or the library. Never were they in my circle of friends. They were always a year or two older than I was, and my mother was always supportive of it."
I shook my head. “Looking back now I can see how organized it was. How she had everything so planned out. But it wasn't until my last relationship that I put two and two together. It wasn't me that attracted these men, but my mother."
“What happened?" Paul asked.
“I went quote-unquote 'off script.' I did something he wasn't expecting. He called my mother to figure out what he was supposed to do."
I felt a sudden burst of shame explaining one of the most embarrassing times of my life. I knew that Paul needed the details to understand. But he wouldn't push me to bare my soul. I needed to tell him if anything because if he was serious about what he said to me in the apartment. He needed to know what he was getting into. The baggage that came with me.
“What did you do that was so unexpected?" Paul asked the question I knew was coming.
“It was humiliating than, and it's still humiliating." I can't help the whine that takes hold of my voice.
“Hey." Paul snaps. “Look at me."
His command draws my attention from my hands in my lap back to him. He's tossing his attention from the road to me. Traffic growing heavy as rush hour dawns on us. There's no condemnation in his eyes. Reaching over Paul takes his hand off of the steering wheel to rest on my knee. The first physical touch he's given me. My heart stutters at the warmth of his hand resting on my knee.
“You're safe with me," Paul says squeezing my knee.
He slowly withdraws his hand from my knee, but before he can completely take it away, I quickly take it in mine. I gauge his reaction seeing if he's okay with my boldness. Wordlessly, he twines his fingers with mine, settling his hand back onto my lap.
“I wanted to sleep with him." I continued quietly. “I clumsily made the first move. Like a fawn learning how to walk. Tripping all over myself. He shut me down. Rejected me. Completely overreacted and freaked out. I guess there was a clause in the agreement. No s*x before marriage."
The same rage and humiliation boiled in my gut. “It wasn't until I caught him outside on the phone. Crying. Begging for my mother to help him that I figured it out. My mother wasn't answering the phone, and when I caught him leaving voicemails for her, he spilled his guts. Told me everything."
My tone turned bitter. “As long as he followed the rules, his life was set. His rent. Bills. Everything was paid for. If he made it to the altar, he would receive a stipend for the first ten years. It would be doubled for every child he would produce. I felt so cheap. So, used. So completely worthless. It was part of the reason why I left—"
“Wait." Paul interrupted me his hand tightening in mine. “This was recent."
“I mean… I wouldn't consider it recent. But within the last year." I try to soften the omission but regardless of how I say it, the truth is, it was recent.
Paul curses under his breath. Shuddering visibly before slamming his free hand down on the steering wheel.
“It's not you," he clarified, instantly calming the creeping panic that was crawling up my spine. “It's… It just complicates some things. It's getting late, and I'm starving. Let's stop for the night. We can get a fresh start in the morning."
He pulls his hand from mine slowly, turning the blinker on before veering off the interstate. We had landed in some small country mid-western town with a gas station. Thankfully, it had one small hotel directly off of the exit. Silently, Paul parked the car.
I refused myself the temptation to lean into the worry that my omission of my past ruined the trip. I was more curious of what exactly I had complicated. I followed Paul out of the parked car into the small but clean little hotel.
My body instantly alerts me to all the things I was too distracted to notice while in the car. My bladder screaming at me is the loudest. Frantically scanning the small lobby for the restroom, I grab Paul's arm, nodding to the lady's room before rushing off. I take my time in the small single stall, splashing water on my face before returning to the little lobby.
Practically running into Paul's chest, I take a quick step back. Something's off. Paul's normal ease is suddenly gone. Stress, coupled with anxiety, practically oozes off of him. Paul nervously shifts from foot to foot, pushing his hand through his hair. His hesitation sets something off in me. My mind reeled with endless possibilities that could have happened in the time it took me to pee.
“What's wrong? Did something happen? Is everything okay?" I ask, dreading the anticipated response that there's no room in the inn.
“They only have one room," Paul replies.
“We're both adults, right? We can sleep in the same room?" I respond utterly confused.
“One room. One bed." He calls after me his response is blunt though quiet.
“Adults," I repeat looking over my shoulder. “Right?"
“s**t just keeps getting more and more complicated," Paul sighs as he brushes past me.
I rush to catch up with him, as his long legs are already at the car unloading the bags from the trunk. Paul, of course, refuses to let me help him with the bags. He leads me to the door of the hotel. My own words echo in my head as he unlocks the door with an actual physical key.
A king-size bed with a sun-bleached quilt sits in the middle of the worn-down burgundy carpet. The damp smell of the air conditioner blasts my face as the door closes behind me. Suddenly, the weight of the fact that I will be sharing a bed with a man who for the first time in my life makes me feel wanted, hits me like a brick wall. Want and need flood my body. It's an experience I've never felt before.
“Adults," Paul echoes my words. The meaning of them holds an extremely different implication inside these four walls.
- Writer
