Page 89 of Becoming Us

“I’m working on that. On believing it’s not true. That there are other reasons. And that one day I’ll actually feel like I’m enough.” My voice faltered, and I cleared my throat. “Anyway. I just want to make sure I’m not doing it for the wrong reasons. Like it’s some kind of bargaining chip. So maybe it’d be better if we waited. Until this feels easier to navigate.”

He slid a warm hand behind my neck. “I’m sorry for saying that, Noah. I was just upset.”

“I know. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. And I think we both did it.” I hesitated. But I needed him to know. “There’s more to it, though.”

“What?”

I held his gaze and shrugged. “We had a terrible habit, you and I.”

He didn’t look away.

“We liked to hide our problems with sex.”

Atty leaned back, his chest deflating a bit.

“For me, it felt like I could forget everything—just lose myself in you and…”

He nodded, his face tightening with something that looked a lot like regret. “And I knew it kept you under control.”

That’s it.

I shrugged. “That’s another thing that scares me. I don’t want you to be a drug for me, Atty. I can’t use you to numb myself, because if I do, it just opens the door for everything else.”

“So how do we handle it?” he asked. “Can we?”

I tried for a smile. “Well, I think we’re getting better at the whole talking part.”

That earned a small one from him too.

“Yeah, I think we are,” he agreed, eyes meeting mine.

Then his expression shifted—steady and certain. That Atty look he got when he was gearing up for something hard. “I getwhere you’re coming from. I really do. I understand why you’ve set these limits, and I think it’s amazing that you’re sticking to them. Not just with us, but in everything.” He reached for my hand, folding it between both of his. “But those are for your life. This—us—is ours. And I think we can find a compromise.”

Compromise. That word sounded different coming from him. It didn’t feel like surrender, not the way it used to. It sounded like care. Like he was really seeing me, accepting my boundaries, and still reaching for a way to meet me in the middle.

A flicker of hope sparked somewhere inside me. “I’m listening.”

“I think it’s okay if we sleep over sometimes. And we don’t have to feel guilty about it. We don’t need to count how many times we see each other in a week and stop when we hit a number.”

I nodded, relief washing over me. That actually sounded…easier. More natural. Like breathing room.

“And I think,” he continued, “if we check in with each other first about why we want it, then we should be able to have sex.”

I laughed under my breath. “Atty…” I scrunched my nose.

“We’re turning it into this huge thing, Noah. Like we’re waiting for some milestone where our relationship suddenly becomes worthy of sex. But that’s not how it works. If we both want to be closer—physically—it shouldn’t feel like we’re doing something wrong.”

“I get where you’re coming from?—”

“And right now, I’m not scared you’re going to bolt,” he interrupted. “Because we just had this talk, and I know you want to work on this. Whatever happened with your mom today, it’s not steering the ship anymore. I’m not scared.”

“Yeah, but?—”

“And you’re not avoiding anything, right?”

“Right—”

“So then it’s okay. We checked. It’s a safe space.”