***
Vincent had found me a robe from the back of his closet, one that he never wore. It was in pristine egg-shell white and soft cuddly cotton, and I tied the belt around my waist. I really couldn’t have this conversation with him while I was naked.
We had come back to the bedroom, and Vincent now stood in front of the large ceiling-to-floor windows, with his wide back against the sun. I was sitting cross-legged on his bed, nursing a mug of his Colombian ground coffee, two mugs of which he had asked Tim to bring up a few minutes ago.
“Now, tell me what’s going on with you,” he said when we had settled into our places, and after we had been staring at each other in silence for some time.
I breathed in deeply. “I don’t know what you want to know,” I replied, avoiding his gaze.
“You were talking to your mother on the phone? I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. Your voice woke me up,” he said, keeping a steady gaze on me. He didn’t seem like he was going to back down this time.
“Yes, I was,” I said, gulping.
“I wasn’t aware that you were close to your parents. I don’t even know who you have in your family,” he said, raising his eyebrows.
I took a long sip of the coffee and looked back at him. “Just me and my parents,” I replied and Vincent nodded gently.
“And you’re close to them?” he asked, stressing on the word ‘close.’ He had heard me talking intimately to Mom earlier; something told me that he shared a very formal relationship with his own parents.
“You could say that, I suppose. I don’t exactly have a choice,” I said, mustering up all the courage I could find. If this was going to be our last conversation, it might as well be an honest one. I didn’t really have anything to lose any more.
“Why don’t you have a choice?” he asked and our eyes met again. Vincent’s brows were crossed, he looked a little surprised, and I didn’t know how exactly to frame the words. I didn’t know what his reaction was going to be once he learned the truth.
“I live with them,” I said and felt the breath being knocked out of me.
Vincent was looking at me and his expression remained unchanged. He neither looked surprised nor amused. I wasn’t sure how he had taken the information.
“I’m twenty-six years old and I live with my parents. There you have it,” I said and took another long sip of the coffee. I kept my eyes on him to study his face, but it remained unchanged. It was like he was expecting to hear some more.
“Aren’t you even a little bit surprised? Or are you trying to not hurt my feelings?” I asked, shaking my head at him.
Vincent squared his shoulders and blinked at me. “Why would I be surprised? I didn’t know anything about you. I didn’t know what to expect,” he said and I felt my cheeks burning up. Did he really think that little of me? That he had no expectations from me at all?
“And we live in a trailer park. I’ve grown up in a trailer; I’ve lived there all my life. My parents could never afford a real house.” The words came tumbling out of me without control. I could feel my hands shaking as they gripped the mug of coffee. Finally, there was some movement from Vincent’s side. He had clenched his jaw and was now walking over to me.
“Is that what you’ve been trying to keep from me?” he asked in a soft voice.
“Of course, I have!” I snapped, annoyed now. How could he ask me such a thing?
“Why?” he asked, he was looking at me indulgently as he came over.
“Because I didn’t want you to judge me. I wanted us to keep having a great time,” I said, following his every movement with my eyes.
“And you thought that for some reason, your house was going to come in the middle of that?” he asked, his face breaking into a full smile now. Was he mocking me? Was this funny to him?
“I didn’t know what to think,” I said, my voice dropping by several decibels. Vincent was close to me now, standing in front of me with his legs spread apart.
“Was that why you kept running away from me? Why you think you don’t belong in my world? Because of a trailer park?” he asked and reached out his hand toward me. His fingers touched my cheek and my lips quivered automatically. What was going on? This was not what I had expected to unfurl.
“Maybe,” I whispered as he stroked my cheek with his large rough thumb. I could breathe in his scent now. His dark wavy hair was ruffled and fell low on his neck. He was still shirtless, and I could see his chiseled abs. He was an unbelievable delicious sight, and he was smiling at me as he stood.
“You’ve been underestimating me from the start, Gemma. You really thought that such material things would matter to me?” he said in a gruff low voice. He nearly sounded offended. The smile was gone, and he looked like he was hurt by what I had said.
“It’s true, Vincent. I don’t belong in your world. You have no idea what my world looks like,” I said and he dropped his hand from my cheek. To my surprise, he was nodding. Something had changed in him.
“You’re right. I don’t know what your world looks like. Maybe I was too rash in asking you to come here. You’re right to want to leave, of course you are,” he said and I could hear my heart thumping. It was loud enough for him to hear as well. This was the end of my fairytale.
“I should come with you and have a look,” he added.