Free Catch My Fall by Michaela Wright Page A

something. Words were coming that felt like fire on my tongue. “Stellan’s right, I deserve someone who can’t keep their hands off me -”
    “Stellan’s right? What about me?”
    “I deserve someone who can’t wait to meet my family, who doesn’t get angry at the prospect of potentially getting married, or having kids for that fucking matter. I want babies someday damn it!”
    “Jesus, how are you two not suffocating from all the Estrogen in here?”
    Meghan and I both startled at the voice.
    He might be fucking huge, but the man can be light on his feet. Meghan and I turned to find Stellan as he came around the table.
    “Fuck you, primate,” Meghan said.
    “No thanks. I’m not a fan of crabs, oddly enough.”
    This was their relationship. In private, if you were to ask either of them what their opinion was of the other, their words were only positive – affectionate even. Yet, put them in a room together and they were merciless.
    “What do you mean? It would go perfectly with the ‘Head up your ass’ disease you’ve always suffered from.”
    “Hey, I’ll take that over your Herpes, anyday.”
    I hissed at both of them to shut up. I was too emotional to listen to the two of them banter, especially since I’d come so close to actually expunging all of my bull shit in one sitting. Being interrupted felt offensive and a part of me wanted to send Stellan away so I could finish my rant. Somehow, I felt as though I’d been close to some revelation, some epiphany that would have released me to sleep filled nights without the endless bouts of crying and the morning headaches. Now, I just felt deeper in it.
    “I can come back later if the two of you want to cry and hug some more.”
    “You’re a fucking asshole,” Meghan said and unlike her usual assaults, at that moment, she meant it.
    “I know,” he said and reached down to rub my knee. I patted his hand and smiled up at him. There was something to his face that looked different, almost pained. I was suddenly mortified. He’d heard. Of all the people I’d considered telling those details too, Stellan was nowhere on the list. Somehow, admitting to him that my boyfriend was appalled by me enough to leave bruises – felt completely humiliating. I squeezed my eyes tight and willed Stellan’s sad look out of my mind.
    Meghan went back to complaining about work. I was grateful for the noise. Despite her monopoly on the conversation, when Billy Idol’s “Flesh for Fantasy” came on over the speakers, she caught the lyrics and had an opinion.
    “Wait, did he just say ‘You’ll see and feel my sex attack?’”
    “Yes, yes he did,” Stellan said.
    “Are you kidding me?”
    “I don’t think Billy kids when it comes to sex attacks, Trotsky.”
    She shook her head. “You’ll see and feel my sex attack? Really?”
    Stellan started singing along, soulfully.
    I forced a smile, despite my mood, and looked across the table to Stellan, who was leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head. When he sat like that, his arms up and on display, the definition of his biceps was apparent. I’d always been curious about Stellan’s martial arts training, some part of me in awe. I’d never admit it to him, but I’d always wanted to see him get into a fight. My gaze caught his attention, and he glanced at me, winked, then returned his attention to the roaring oven fire.
    My face burned for a moment.
    The waitress took our order, her demeanor cool and drowsy, and then went her merry way. Stellan kept his attention to the fire burning high in the oven, watching one of the employees chop wood in a corner.
    I listened to Meghan, but my attention was drawn about the room. Every dark haired man, every couple seated at a table near us drew my eye.
    My thoughts were traitors. What if he comes here? What if I see him out in the world?
    The thought made me feel itchy.
    They brought Meghan and I our salads, and I began picking at my food.
    Come on, Faye. Your