Page 55 of Death, Interrupted
His smirk softened into a smile as he crossed the kitchen toward me. “You sure you’re not too tired?”
I shook my head. “No. I could use some fresh air.”
He stopped in front of the couch, one hand running through his hair as he looked down at me. “This might sound cheesy, but I’ve always wanted to go on a late-night ice cream run with someone.”
“You did?” I looked up at him, wide-eyed.
“Yeah, and I couldn’t have wished for anyone better than you.”
He held out his hand, and I took it, letting him help me up from the couch. My smile grew, and my cheeks flushed, which was something that happened a lot because of him.
“Well, let’s get you that ice cream then,” I said, squeezing his hand once.
As we walked through the aisles of the convenience store, I passed all the chocolate bars and bags of chips,and my stomach started to growl as if I hadn’t eaten a proper meal just a couple of hours ago. Maybe a snack wouldn’t hurt.
I stopped in front of the chips, staring at the endless options, unsure which to pick. Choosing had never been something I was allowed to do much with Joey, but this felt different. Maybe it was because I finally had the chance to think about what I actually wanted, instead of just following someone else’s choices.
With Joey, I never got to choose. Everything we ate was what he wanted. Everything in the fridge was his choice. Every movie, every plan, he had dictated every small decision, and I had gotten used to following along without question. Standing there now, looking at all these options, I realized how strange it felt to actually get to choose for myself.
I lingered a little longer, taking it all in, letting myself notice the colors of the packaging, and the fact that no one was pressuring me. For once, this was about what I wanted without fear or obligation. It was a small moment, but it felt bigger than anything I’d felt in a long time.
It felt strange to actually be able to choose, to take my time and decide without anyone standing over me, judging me, or threatening me if I picked the wrong thing. The freedom was almost dizzying.
“Are you thinking about getting something too?” Sly’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I turned my head to him and gave a small nod.
“I figured if we’re going to watch a movie, I should get a snack too,” I said, forcing a smile. “So you don’t have to eat alone.”
“You’re sweet,” he said, placing a hand on my lower back as he glanced at the chips. “Which ones do you like?”
“Those,” I said, pointing at the salt and vinegar chips, then lifted my hand again to indicate the spicy wave ones. “Those, too.”
“Let’s get both,” he suggested.
“What? No, that’s too much,” I said, shaking my head.
“So? We don’t have to eat them all at once. But if we take both, you get to eat both.”
It felt almost unreal to even think about having two open bags of chips without finishing them. With Joey, that had never been an option. He hated open bags of anything. He called it wasteful, so he’d either eat everything before I had the chance to touch it, or he’d stop me from getting anything for myself in the first place, because what he had gotten was enough for both of us.
The memory made my body tense. A dull heaviness spread through me, and I caught myself slipping back into that old shame. I hated how small I’d let myself become back then. I hated how easily I’d stopped standing up for myself.
Because of him, I rarely bought anything just for myself. Nothing I truly wanted ever made it into our shopping cart, and anything I did manage to get had to be shared with Joey—or was eaten by him before I even got a chance.
“Are you sure?” I asked, furrowing my brows.
“Of course. If you want them, you take them.” His voice carried a mix of worry and frustration. He could tell my hesitation had to do with Joey. Even though Joey was out of my life, I hated how much it still got to him. I appreciated Sly’s protectiveness, but seeing him upset over someone I was trying to forget made my chest tighten.
I turned more toward him and took his hand in mine, my fingers intertwining with his instinctively. A rush of emotions unexpectedly pushed up from my chest to my throat, but I held them in as best I could. Crying in a convenience store late at night wasn’t something I wanted to experience.
“You make me feel so special,” I whispered, my voice trembling just slightly.
He smiled softly and waited, patient, giving me space to say more, but that was all I could manage without breaking. He somehow knew the exact way to be there without overwhelming me. He moved with care, protecting me in ways he didn’t need to, showing me that not all men were selfish or cruel, and that kindness still existed.
His eyes softened even more, and he lifted his hands toward me, pausing with a question in his gaze. “May I?”
I nodded, stepping closer without hesitation.
He cupped my face gently, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks, and I closed my eyes for a moment, leaning into the touch.