What You're Okay With

"I…I didn't mean to scare you. I'd never hurt you, you know that, right Lori?" Jon's voice turned soft and pleading. I couldn't look at him. "Oh no…you didn't think…I just wanted to see you, I swear, I didn't expect anything from you coming in. I just…missed you."

I looked up. He seemed sincere. "You weren't going to?"

I couldn't finish. Had I overreacted? I supposed I had. I was so concerned being alone in a man's house this late.

"Of course not! Come on, Lori, you think I don't notice you flinch when I hug you? I wouldn't pull something like that on you before you were ready." Jon sounded insulted. "You must think I'm horrible."

"No, I don't, I—" What could I say to make him feel better? It's not you, it's men in general? "It's not you. I…had a bad experience before. I'm still a little skittish."

I couldn't believe I was telling him the truth, no matter how fractional it was. Other than when Nick brought it up, I'd never talked about this with anyone but Cindy. She understood. It happened to her too.

Jon clapped his hand over his mouth. "I'm so sorry. Oh gosh. I can't believe I didn't…is this why you keep pushing me away?"

"Yes," I said half-truthfully, burying my face in my knees again.

I peeked through my arms and saw that he'd slumped back on the couch with his face in his hands. "Are you…crying?"

"No," he sniffled. "I'm fine. I just wish I'd known. Everything makes sense now. I'm so…so sorry, Lori. I didn't mean to push you. You must hate me."

"No! I don't, I promise I don't."

And I didn't. He seemed so genuinely sorry for something he didn't even do. As much as I hated pity…I actually felt sorry for him for being so sad over something that happened to me. Ridiculous. What kind of man had I gotten involved with?

"No wonder you wanted to take it slow. I'm so stupid."

"No you're not!" I insisted. "Jon, you're blowing this out of proportion. I happen to think you're the nicest guy I've ever met."

Jon looked up at me. "Seriously? You must know some pretty crappy guys then."

"I'm serious," I growled. "Stop beating yourself up for something that has nothing to do with you. You've been nothing but kind to me."

How could he be so upset about this? Was it…because he loved me? Could you be that upset for someone else's sake if you're in love with them?

He went back to burying his face in his hands. I sighed and scooted closer to him. I patted him on his head. I really was terrible at comforting anyone over the age of ten.

"Are you…patting my head?"

"I'm trying to make you feel better," I mumbled, embarrassed. "I'll stop."

"Feel free to keep going. It might actually work."

"Do you want me to hug you?"

Jon looked up at me. "Do you want to hug me? For real. Not because you feel forced to."

"If it would make you stop moping, then yes," I said tetchily.

He sighed. "It would make me stop moping. But you don't like hugs."

"I like you though," I said honestly.

I really did. I liked him as a person. He was too good for me and I couldn't give him what he wanted in life but I still liked him for who he was. Kind. Patient. Slightly funny. Good with kids. Simply put, he was a good person in a world full of bad people and I didn't want him to be upset on my account.

"Are you su—"

"Just stand up and hug me!"

He did. I could hear his heart beating rapidly through his tee shirt. In that moment I wished more than anything that I could have been normal so I could keep making him happy. But I'd ruined everything again, permanently this time. He'd probably never speak to me again after this. I could feel his tears falling into my hair.

"Why are you crying?"

"You hate being touched but you're hugging me to make me feel better. You really do care. Sometimes I wondered," Jon said simply.

"Is that enough?" I dared to ask. "If it's not, I understand. I knew going into this that I wasn't good enough for you. If you want to ditch me, I totally get it."

There. I'd given him an out. I hoped he'd take it and I could end this agonizing charade once and for all. I was sick of hurting him, sick of pretending, sick of being something I could never truly be.

If Jon dumped me, Faye would be sympathetic. Which she wouldn't be if I dumped him. This should have ended a long time ago. This was my chance to be free, to go back to the life I wanted. So why did I dread his answer?

"If you're willing to work with me," Jon whispered into my hair. "I'd do anything for you, Lori. Anything. Please don't give up on me because I didn't know what I was doing wrong."

My heart beat erratically as the implications set in. I wasn't free after all. "You're serious?"

"Just tell me what's okay and what's not," he said sincerely. "I promise, if you tell me something makes you uncomfortable I won't do it. Tell me what you're okay with."

What was I okay with? I don't think I'd been okay since this whole mess started. "I guess hand holding is okay." That was relatively mild discomfort. "Hugs are okay if you ask first. Just…don't surprise me, okay?"

"What about kissing?"

"On special occasions." I could handle that much, couldn't I? Wasn't a little discomfort worth keeping him in my life as a friend?

"Are you sure? I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I couldn't bear it if you came to resent me later."