The fateful words, full of fright, wonder, and hope. They contain a wish, more than they contain a statement. “I love you.” What does that mean? It means, “I’ve had too many good times with you for this to be real life.” So you drop out of reality for a while. You do things in accordance to the feeling you have for one another.

“I love you.” It also means, “I hope you’ll make this last. Please make this last. For me.” Most of the time, it doesn’t last. I’m just being honest. Most of the time, you go through the upswing and brace for impact when you come back down. Most of the time, that painful ending takes years to finish.

I’ve always been afraid of saying it. I’ve known the realities that come with “love.” But I also know the feeling of transcendence. It’s that simple understanding that comes with real love. With Dennis, I had that. Sure, I had it. I understood him all too well. I accepted his behavior and lowered my head for him.

Look where that got me.

With Michael, however, it’s clearly different. He’s honest and hardworking, perhaps to a fault. He’s available and everything I’ve been waiting for, but there’s always that nagging feeling inside of me. Will this work out? Will it last forever? Because if it doesn’t, I don’t want to continue opening my heart up, just so that it can get ripped to shreds again.

When I’m with him and I’m snuggled against his strong arms, my heart feels bulldozed. Leveled. I’ve been holding in this whole Dennis thing and I don’t know how to tell the man I’ve fallen for that he’s here. He’s in this town right now. For all I know, he could be right outside his front door.

My phone has been buzzing all day. Of course, he can’t leave me alone. He needs more, more, and more. It’s just his way. “If you were to go anywhere and do anything,” Michael whispers into my ear, “what would you do?”

His lips brush against the cartilage. Goose bumps shoot across my body. “Anywhere?” I ask.

“Anywhere in the whole entire world,” he says.

His hand runs up and down my back. I feel pampered, loved, and fully his. But I’m still distant. I’m still in the center of his world, yet far away, in the stars. “Marseilles,” I say. “The coast of France. I’ve always dreamed of going.”

“What would you do when you got there?” he asks me.

“I have no clue,” I laugh. “Get a boat. Sit by the water every day. Read books. Hell, maybe I’d even write one.”

“And stuff your mouth with delicious pastries?” he asks.

“Way too many pastries. And espresso. Lots of espresso. And wine. And cheese. Oh God, why do you ask me stuff like this? Now I want to be there,” I pout.

“Maybe we can go someday,” he tells me.

I close my eyes and dream of it. I feel the warm breeze fall across my face and hair. I can smell the coffee, the sea, and I can hear the men on the boats talking as the women walk past and smile. In this vision, the world is big and wonderful. It’s not just one town, one job, one possible outcome. It’s not a prison. It’s not Chicago. In this vision, I’m free. I can finally be myself.

Yet, I know it’s just a dream. It’s all just a dream. In the end, there’s too much to be done here, in my new city. And as long as I’m with Michael, it’ll all turn out okay. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I tell him. “It’s not fun to me.”

Dennis is waiting, lurking in the shadows. His mouth pursues a dark grin, bearing his sharp teeth. His wild hair blows in the wind. There is darkness all around me and all exit signs have been dimmed. “Once we figure everything out, we can do what we want. We just need to be patient a little while longer,” Michael says.

I simply nod my head. Maybe. Oh, probably. “Summer trips would be nice,” I whisper to myself.

“Easily done,” he tells me.

Still, I have to hold on to what’s real right now. I can’t keep falling into the dream of perfection. It’s just a catalyst for a big letdown. Usually, anyway. I kiss his arms and he releases me. I stand on his carpet and stretch my arms, breasts proudly displayed for him. He smiles and reaches out one hand. His fingers circle around my nipple, squeezing lightly.

I pull away, smiling and he groans in sexual anguish. “When is Lisa getting here?” I ask him.

He checks his phone and blinks his eyes a few times. The dream slowly escapes him, until he’s finally back in reality with me. “About five minutes,” he says.

But as soon as he says those exact words, I hear the front door open. I look at Michael to ask if I should hide, but he holds up his hand. Nevertheless, I grab my clothes and quickly put them on. I hear Susan’s heels clicking against the downstairs tile, coming closer and closer to the room. A knock sends chills up my spine, but Michael just laughs and opens the door.

“What’s up?” he asks her, shirtless and all.

“Oh lord, Michael.” She rolls her eyes. “Already sleeping with the interns?”

“Where’s Lisa?” he asks, ignoring her snarky retort.

“She’s playing outside right now. Did I come at a bad time? This is what we agreed upon,” she says.

“You’re fine. We were just going downstairs,” I speak up.

Susan eyes me, but ultimately decides not to respond. In all actuality, she doesn’t seem that angry anymore. She seems… bored.

“Everything is accounted for with the building. I’ve got people coming to fix the garage up. We should be up to code in a few days,” Michael says.

Susan looks surprised. “You got it taken care of?” she simply asks.

“Yeah. It was no biggie. I just made a few calls,” he says.

“And the money?” she asks.

“It’s all taken care of. Don’t stress about it.” All it takes is a solid arm around her shoulder, a slight platonic squeeze, and an awkward smile. She gives in. All the mean comebacks come to a halt. She’s satisfied. Michael turns his head toward me and waves me over. “Let’s go see Lisa!” he exclaims with joy.

We walk downstairs and into the kitchen. From the windows of the rectangular doors, I can see her jumping on the trampoline. She jumps so high, hitting the bouncy tarp, and springing up even higher. All three of us walk out and wave.

“You guys!” Lisa screams. “Jump with me!”

“Mommy can’t, doll!” Susan yells back.

“You always say that!” she says, out of breath. She falls on her butt and breathes heavily. “Dad, if you don’t jump with me, I’ll be sad.”

“Already with the guilt, huh?” Michael laughs. But he’s already on his way over to her. He’s the father of the year, the guy any kid would love to have.

There’s a strange moment where Susan and I are standing next to each other, watching Michael get onto the trampoline. Lisa runs and hugs him and he kisses the top of her head like he always does. Susan is speechless, and there’s an awkward understanding that begins to occur. At one point in her life, she loved this man. She might have given everything to him and it just didn’t work out. Now, I love him. Yet, all four of us out here are connected by the strange emotions of our past, present, and future.

“If you somehow fuck up my child,” Susan says. “I’ll bring you down. You hear me?” She’s staring straight ahead, avoiding all eye contact with me.

“Susan,” I laugh. “Just fuck off.”

I see her body twitch backwards, as if she just suffered a bad blow. When she stabilizes, I get out of there. I run over to the trampoline before she can say a word back to me. There’s just too much bullshit to deal with in the world sometimes, and today, I just want to enjoy the sun and the joy that exudes from Michael’s daughter.

“I’m leaving,” Susan says to us as I start to bounce. “See you when I’m back.”

“Have fun on the trip.” Michael waves. And just like that, Susan leaves. “She seems to be in a better mood than usual.” Michael laughs and shrugs.

“No she isn’t,” Lisa says.

“Don’t talk about your mom like that,” Michael winks.

I smile and try to bounce as high as Lisa, but fail. “Actually,” I begin speaking, “she does seem to be doing better. We even exchanged a few words.”

“Really? What did you talk about?” Michael asks.

“I told her she looked very pretty today.”

Who cares? Today is about living.