Page 32 of Storm in a Teacup (Love in Edinburgh #3)

With me still leaning over her, she whimpers lightly, eyes not meeting mine. “You don’t get it.”

“Explain. Please.”

She huffs. “Committing to me is not just committing to be in a relationship with me, it’s also committing to be there for me.

Committing to take care of me when I need it.

To drive me to doctor’s appointments if I can’t get there on my own.

Committing to guide me through life as my vision gets worse.

Committing to be the one who picks our kids up from school or playdates or…

never mind. I’ve decided I’m not having kids. But you know what I mean.”

“People who are in love take care of each other. That’s how it works.”

She groans. “That’s not…it’s different.”

I shake my head. “I don’t see how. Not sure I need to say this, but I guess I will because you seem to have convinced yourself otherwise. You deserve love. Like, duh.”

She covers her face with her hands, letting out an annoyed moan.

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that I don’t want someone whose love for me turns into a responsibility for them.

I don’t want to be someone’s responsibility.

I don’t want to be someone’s good deed. I don’t want someone to think that I cannot take care of myself.

That I cannot be on my own. It’s infantilizing.

And it’s humiliating. And it’s frustrating when people think that I cannot do things for myself.

That I can’t walk home alone in the dark.

Or that I need them to drive me places buses don’t easily access so they can feel good about themselves.

That’s what taxis are for! Maybe I need to pull out the flashlight on my phone.

Or in the future, maybe I’ll need to get a service dog or learn how to use a cane or whatever. ”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m getting off topic.

I don’t want someone to commit to me because they will fall out of love, but stay because they will feel bad leaving me on my own.

Because they will think I will be unable to live on my own.

Because no matter how they feel about me, I will not be a whole person to them.

I will be their blind girlfriend or wife or whatever.

They will be embarrassed by me when I make mistakes.

They will treat me like I can’t function as a human adult.

There will be times when I do need help, but I don’t want those moments to be used against me.

For those moments to be used as evidence that I can’t do life on my own.

I would rather just cut all that out and be by myself. It’s easier.”

I look at her for a long moment, so many things I could say. So many things I want to say. However, I say what I think she needs to hear from me the most: “Do you need to break things again?”

Her mouth pinches as she attempts not to laugh. “That should be a limited activity because it might get addictive. And expensive.”

I hope that impulse to laugh eased the hurt in her chest because the twitch of her mouth massaged the tension from mine. “You’re wrong, by the way. ”

“I’m not,” she argues, her eyes big as she gazes into mine.

“No, because I think if you let the right person love you, they will love you wholly and see you wholly. Not as the bits and pieces you are choosing to separate yourself into, but as the whole, perfect you. Because you are perfect, shite eyes or not, you’re you and you is fucking amazing. You deserve to be loved wholly.”

She swallows, still staring up at me with those big eyes. “The problem is, it’s hard to find someone who will see me like that.”

I lie back down beside her. I won’t disagree. It is hard to find someone to love every part of you. Everyone has trouble with that. I almost offer to do it for her, but I can’t yet.

Instead, I swerve the conversation a little and comment, “Atticus did a number on you.” Her worry about embarrassing her partner comes strongly from him. I could tell by the way he acted the night of the stag and hen do.

“It’s not just him. There have been other men…or just people in my life who have treated me like that. That feeling holds me back from making friends, too.”

“Well, you have me.”

“I’m glad I do.”

I want to take her hand, but I hold back, wondering if that simple action would be a further element blurring the lines between us that she so desperately needs to remain drawn.

We lie there in silence for a long while, me wondering what is going through her mind.

What worries and pain has she not voiced?

In a need to fill the silence, I say, “Linny, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m bi.”

She lets out a surprised laugh. I feel so much joy from that simple sound. “I know! Did you think I didn’t know? Was it a secret?” She sits up quickly, seeming panicked. “Wait, was it a secret? Are you not out? Am I not reacting correctly?”

I stay where I am. “I’m not not out. I wanted to verbally tell all of my people since it’s a somewhat new development. I figured it out last May.”

She lies back down. “Ah. Got it. Sorry, I assumed it was well-established. I mean, you never gave me a label, but you being desperately in love with your male best friend and the amount of time you spend staring at my boobs equaled bi in my head.”

I scoff. “I don’t spend that much time staring at your boobs.”

“You do, but it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“I only stare because I know how nice they are.” I know how a feather-light touch makes her nipples perk up. I know how she moans when I pinch them and how often I think about my tongue running over them.

She gently whacks me on the chest with the back of her hand, as if she can hear my lustful thoughts. “Shut up.”

I force myself out of my libidinous haze. “Well, you figured right. I’m men-and-Linny-sexual.” I swallow, staring up at the ceiling. “You’re okay with it?”

She twists on her side to face me, hand landing on my cheek to turn my head toward her.

“ Of course I’m okay with it. Sorry, Benny, I really am not reacting correctly.

Yes, I am okay with it. One hundred percent.

One thousand percent. One million percent.

It’s who you are, and I like all of who you are. Okay?”

I swallow again, throat tight. Instead of saying thank you, I say, “I don’t think that’s how percentages work.”

She groans silently before returning to her back. “Who else have you told?”

“Isla, Rachel, David, Callum, Josie. A few customers.”

“Have you told your parents? ”

“Och. No. Do you think I should do that?”

“Only if you want to. Do you think they’ll react poorly?”

I shrug. “They were weird with Isla, but they’ve moved past the weirdness—or are at least making a conscious effort to. Let’s see.”

I pull out my phone to make a group chat with my mum and dad. I also throw Isla in to mix it up.

ME: Hey, just wanted to tell you I’m bisexual

DA: ???

DA: Is it a celebration day? I thought that was June

ME: No. I’m coming out

MUM: Coming out from where?

DA: Did we not already know you were bi?

MUM: Isla told us she was bi. Not Ben

Isla texts me separately.

ISLA: We are not a group chat kind of family. Wtf are you doing?

I send back a shrug emoji and then go back to the group chat .

DA: Ben is not also bi?

I scoff and say aloud, “Was it obvious to everyone that I was bi, except me?”

Linny makes a noncommittal hum.

ME: Ben is bi. Isla is a lesbian who thought she was bi at first because of compulsory heterosexuality

ME: Then she tried and failed to date a boy and figured it out

ME: We know this

ISLA: I am firmly a lesbian

DA: Right. Right. So Ben being bi is new information?

MUM: Correct

ME: Aye

MUM: So you still like girls? Because there is a woman at my church with a daughter your age. She’s very pretty

MUM: But there is a woman at my hairdresser who has a gay son so there are options

ME: Thanks

DA: Congrats [picture of lesbian pride flag]

ISLA: Wrong flag, da. That one is mine. This is the bi flag [picture of bisexual pride flag]

MUM: You’re 30 years old, Ben. You really need to get married. Now you have more options

ISLA: Mum, you can’t say that

MUM: Why not? It’s true

I show Linny the texts, who raises an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Better than I expected,” I answer, knowing what she is wondering. “Just as confused as they were when Isla came out, but they’ve had time to do their own research over the years.”

Isla texts me separately.

ISLA: They’re ridiculous. How ya feeling?

ME: Okay

I feel a little lift in my heart, not realizing that I was waiting for this. All of the most important people in my life know. It’s a little detail and an extremely grand one at the same time .

Linny and I continue to lie there in silence, happy to just exist in each other’s presence. While we do, I resolve to keep doing everything I can to show her how deserving of love she is. Before we’re done with this whole fake dating thing, I am determined to prove it to her.