Turning to me, he said, “This is for you.”
“Me?” I asked, not hiding my surprise.
“Caitlyn, I want you to stay with me for the week I am here. I want you to
heal. I want to meet the woman you will one day be.”
“If you want to have sex with me, you don’t need to put on the show. You know my secrets. You know I wouldn’t have turned you down.” My voice was
void of emotion.
“I am not looking for a cheap thrill. The broken teenager you’re hiding behind is not who I am interested in. I want you to stay with me. There are two
sleeping rooms. During the day, we can share this amazing suite.” Nick set the
bag down. “I want to meet the real Caitlyn Chase. Tell me she is here and ready
to find out what it means to be loved. Is she here, Caitlyn?”
For the first time in my life, I felt in control of what I wanted. I wasn’t doing what was expected to please someone else or to hide my pain. I turned myself over to Nick, knowing this would be one week in our life.
It wasn’t a fairytale. It was real. I had to find out who I was. I had to find the real Caitlyn.
Nick was true to his word. Other than holding my hand or kissing my cheek, our intimacy was only emotional. I would have called it fatherly if not for the fact that I was psychically attracted to him. During our time together, he showed me
the city I had forgotten. We went sailing, ate at local restaurants, and toured the local museums. He reminded me of my passion for the written word. Nick even
inspired me to chase the dreams I once had of being an author or professor.
We read Shakespeare, watched old black and white movies, and strolled
along the pier. One afternoon, I taught him how to play my favorite card game,
Crazy Eights.
When I handed him the deck of cards to shuffle, he set them down and said,
“You have a final year of school, Caitlyn. Promise me you will live in the moment from now on and forget the past.”
My breath caught. How could I tell him that I wanted nothing more than to
live in this moment, with him, forever? I couldn’t. He would think I was a silly
schoolgirl. Instead, I chose the complacent smile and nod. There was time left; I could only hope I would build up enough courage to tell him how I was feeling.
On the last night, I asked if we could dine in the hotel room instead of eating
out. I wanted nothing to distract him from us. I was overjoyed when he easily agreed, and we ordered room service. Afterward, we adjourned to the patio to watch the sunset.
Nervously, I took his hand as we stood by the balcony. “Nick, this week was
dreamlike. The wounds I had been hiding behind are healed. You taught me I needed to be who I wanted and never let anyone treat me like their property. Are
my strong feelings of gratitude and desire wrong?” I rested my hand on his thigh, hoping to convey my intentions.
“Do you want to be with me to pay me back for our week?” he asked
seriously.
“No,” I cried, “I want to know what it feels like to be touched and explored
by someone who loves me.”
He led me to the couch. “Caitlyn, you’re a beautiful woman, and I am flattered by your generous offer.”
“But,” I whispered.
“I need to be honest. I was not with the convention. I know your mother.”
“What? I don’t understand.” I recoiled, moving farther away from him.
“My intention was never to bed you. By chance, your mother reached out to
me and begged me to help her sweet girl who had changed overnight.”
“My mother? What? Does she know I am with you?” I wasn’t sure if I was
