Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“Nothing, I—”
“I’m kidding, I heard.” The hostess reached over the papers and took her hand. “Paxton?”
I turned to her.
“I’m Sophie, by the way.”
“Thank you for allowing me into your home.”
“You’re so welcome, and I’d love for you to get yourself a plate, we have so much, but to the topic. You know, and I know, that when Colton likes you, he forgets about his own strength sometimes. I made the mistake years ago of using the words too rough when I spoke to him and asked him if he could be a bit gentler with me.”
“You did?” Gwen asked her. “Oh my God, I should have just asked you, but I had no idea you—”
“He has never hugged me since.”
Gwen’s breath caught.
“I mean, he’ll lean in, give me a pat, but then back up so fast, it’s enough to give me whiplash. And now, of course, with Brian being born, when he’s here, Paul always gives him the baby, and a more gentle, careful, considerate man, you could not ask for. He’s the same with my nieces and other kids. Omar and Suzie, their daughter, Stephanie, whenever she’s throwing a tantrum, Suzie picks her up and takes her to Colton. Kids—all kids—love him. My dogs too. Even my super annoying cat loves Colton. He’s actually outside, right now, walking Brian through our backyard, navigating around dog crap—so embarrassing—to get him to burp.”
“Why are you—”
“He roughhouses with Paul, he’s careful with Brian, and he thought I was like Suzie, and he could grab me and hug me and hold my hand, but now, because I said something, he doesn’t trust himself to be mindful, so that’s it. And I hate that it’s all or nothing with him, but I also get it. I said something, and he has changed around me so I never feel uncomfortable again.”
Gwen looked stricken.
“Did you say something to him?”
“I told him I didn’t like to be manhandled, and now, suddenly, he’s busy with work.”
“He is busy at work,” I defended him.
“Yes, but he used to make time for me.”
What was I supposed to say? “If you didn’t like how he touched you, it was important to say something. No one should be uncomfortable; that’s your right. Also, everyone has a different threshold for what they consider manhandling, and again, it’s about your comfort level, not his.”
I turned in my seat to Sophie then.
“Oh,” she said, grinning, “this must be serious. Yes?”
“Are you serious?” I asked her. “Does he mean something to you?”
She took a breath. “I didn’t mean to be flip or—”
I squinted at her.
“Sorry,” she said, coughing, “really. I didn’t mean to belittle your—”
“Does he,” I repeated, my gaze locked with hers, “mean something to you?”
“Yes. Yes, he does,” she answered, all levity gone from her voice.
“Okay, then. You have to tackle him.”
“Pardon me?” The gleam in her bright green eyes was very appealing.
“If you want the connection back, I suggest you walk right up, tackle him, like put him on his ass or his back and smush him, and as he’s sputtering—which he does when he’s surprised—then, while touching him, as he’s very tactile, so the physical contact is important, then you tell him you want him exactly how he is and you love him.”
Her eyes went round.
“And what that should accomplish is over the course of a few weeks, you’ll get the hugging back. He’ll still be careful, but one day, in the not-so-distant future, he’ll trust that he can be himself, and you’ll get the spontaneous affection back. It will still be different because you have a child now, and you’ve moved from his buddy to a mom, so with that comes inherent gentleness. He’s like that with his sister now as well. That might really suit you.”
“I suspect you’re right.”
“But really, do what I say. I know him.”
“I would say yes, you certainly do.”
“Good.”
Sophie took a breath, and there were tears in her eyes before she lunged at me, arms around my neck as I laughed and she squeezed the stuffing out of me.
“Why are you mauling my assistant? I think you should—Sophie!”
She had moved fast, letting go of me and launching herself at him. Because the angle was weird, she threw him off-balance, and the two of them got tangled up and fell together onto the kitchen floor. She came down on top of him hard, which was much better than him falling on her, because at six-two, with all the carved muscle on his frame, the man was heavy.
“The hell are you doing, woman?” he rasped.
She laughed, ended up snorting a bit, and when I saw his look of surprise and the slight smile, I knew she had him. Gwen, on the other hand, I was guessing was done. A friend, he could reverse how he acted. An intimate partner who thought he was too rough—he would internalize that and never be able to let that go. I didn’t need to be a therapist to know that was not going to work. But again, nothing against Gwen. Everyone deserved to be treated how they wanted.