Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“How is she a blessing?”
“She’s empowered. Sick people come to be touched by her. Parents ask her to bless their babies. The whole community is part of the preparation for the ceremony and all it entails, and then the whole community is also blessed.”
“Did you feel any of this during your ceremony?”
I love that he isn’t looking at me like I’m crazy or disparaging it as some weird tradition but taking it seriously. Like he’ll believe whatever I tell him.
“I did,” I answer, trusting him with the truth. “I felt like I could do anything, and I decided I didn’t ever want to take anything, anyone inside my body that made me feel less than that. I wouldn’t waste it. And I don’t have any prudish expectations I impose on anyone. It’s not like that at all.”
“I get that.”
“Do you?” I stop, turning to face him in the middle of the cobbled street, searching the stark planes of his face in the lamplight. “I don’t think I’m some goddess who no man has been worthy of. I don’t think my vagina is a holy prize. I just…felt something in those moments, felt like my body was part of something great. All my friends talked about losing their virginity. The word ‘lose’ felt careless to me. And I think that was what I felt that day. Not just about sex, but about everything. I felt intentional. Like every second, every decision, every person I share myself with—counts. And to be honest, I just haven’t met anyone I trusted with that.”
“Wow.” A white puff of breath swells in the chilly night air when he chuckles. “That should probably feel like a lot to live up to. Like a lot of pressure.”
“Does it?”
His brows bend, like he’s concentrating, checking. “It doesn’t. I’ve been drawn to you since I first saw you on that hill with stars and stripes on your face. You cried, and there was such conviction in every word you spoke. I didn’t know you were seventeen, but I knew you were young. And I wondered, what made her this way? What shaped her into this remarkable person already? Now I know. That girl, the girl who drew me in that day, I would never expect things to be simple or typical with her.”
For a moment, I’m stunned by his vision of me—of how he saw me so clearly. There are few things more affirming than someone seeing you exactly as you aspire to be—for them to say I see that in you.
“I thought you were so hot.” I laugh and shake my head. “In the midst of tear gas and Dobermans, I was like, oh my gosh, he’s really cute. So I think there was more of the typical teenager in me than you might have guessed.”
“Well, I wasn’t a teenager. I was in graduate school. When I found out you were only seventeen, I felt like a lecher.”
“I could tell. And Mr. Paul made sure you knew. He was my elementary school teacher, by the way, and I’m pretty sure he mentioned my daddy on purpose.”
“And my balls shriveled in statutory terror.” We both laugh and start walking again.
“I can’t believe we found each other again like this after four years,” I say.
“I knew as soon as I saw you in that brown bar last night that I wanted us to end up right here.” He stops in front of one of the narrow canal houses along the Amstel. It’s red, tall, imposing, and, even to my untrained eye, not cheap.
“Um, you live here?”
“Yeah, this one’s mine.” He bounds up the short flight of stairs and turns to find me still at the bottom, staring at the row of canal houses his is neatly tucked into. “You coming?”
“Sure.”
I take the steps more slowly. I really don’t know very much about the man I’m about to share my body with. We step inside a spacious foyer, flanked by a beautifully decorated dining room and an equally gorgeous sitting room. He watches me taking all this luxury in, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants, which I now notice are very well tailored. His shoes look…expensive. He looks expensive. How did I miss that he looks not only devastatingly handsome but expensive? In that way that is so subtle and unattainable you can’t quite pinpoint how you know the clothes on his back could pay your rent for a month.
“Nice clothes, fancy place,” I say. “Are you rich, Doc?”
Something skitters across his face before he tucks it neatly away.
“Not much has changed in my wardrobe the last few years,” he offers wryly. “And this place looks fancier than it costs. I don’t have a ton of cash, but my family does, yeah.”
Why am I surprised? I knew he had an expensive education. It just never occurred to me that there was as much distance between our backgrounds as there apparently is.