Page 67 of Come Find Me Tonight

I had this idea a while back to make a video where I just take out the barbells and put them in a large jar, and that would be the end of that. But I didn’t know if I had the guts to actually do it. I move my hands to my first nipple, remove the barbell, and then do the same on my other side. I turn and pick up a jar labeled Rook from the desk, dropping them into the jar with a loud clink. I screw the lid back on, set it aside, and pull a simple gray V-neck tee over my head on camera.

That’s it.

I end the recording and detach my phone from the tripod. I glance around the room. It always felt so cold and sterile, like a doctor’s office, and I want it to be brought to life. But what could we turn this room into?

A nursery?

That thought makes me shudder.

You literally just wore a condom with Appa. Stop thinking about babies!

I make an exception to my two-glass limit and pour myself another glass of red wine in the kitchen. Taking a seat at the breakfast bar, I realize I’m sitting where I was earlier in a pool of anxiety about Appa, but that’ll never happen again. She loves me and deserves just me.

I need to keep her safe.

I pull up the video on my editing app, trim the beginning to start with me walking into frame, cut out retrieving the jar and opening it, and trim the end. With a couple of edits, Rook could be gone. I add a filter over the video to make it look slightly smoky and add a quiet instrumental song to the background, leaving the clink of the barbells falling into the jar as the loudest sound in the video. I look down at my clothed chest and brush my fingers over my left nipple, void of any jewelry. My chest feels naked without them, but I could get used to it.

Would Appa mind if I kept them out?

If I don’t put something in, the holes will close up. I graze my fingertips over the metal ring in my ear. The rook piercing could go as well, but something about the nipple piercings keeps me more tethered to Rook. I throw back the glass of wine and refocus on the video. I upload the video, but now I have to come up with a caption…

I consider a couple of options but decide to type without much of a plan:

‘I created him to survive.

I’m letting go now to live.

Don’t mourn him.

He was never yours to keep.’

My trembling fingers hover over the post button. I worked hard over the years building this persona and profile, but I had Appa now.

This was always for her.

My thumb, with a fresh surge of confidence, clicks post. I mute my notifications and turn my phone screen off. It goes dark in front of my eyes like I blew out Rook’s flame. I return to bed, gently pulling Appa back into my arms where she belongs. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake up. I trail my fingers on her bare back and breathe in the sweet scent of her hair.

Rook got me this far, but I can take it from here.

My fingers run along her lower stomach, where our future children will grow, and that warm feeling spreads through my abdomen. I think it’s hope. There’s nothing wrong with having the desire to have children with her, and we have all the time we need.

When I open my eyes again, the room is flooded with light from the morning sun, and Appa isn’t in my arms. I sit up and find her sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs dangling off.

“Morning, Apps.” I yawn and rub my eyes. She looks over her shoulder at me, and she’s upset by the way her lips are pursed in a straight line, brows slightly furrowed. “What?”

“How could you?” she asks. She turns and tosses her phone between us, where my video from last night plays on her screen.

Fuck, she saw it fast.

“I had to. You don’t need him.”

“But,” she starts to argue but frowns and stops herself.

“Come here.” I reach over and pull her into my arms, slightly pinning her under me. “Yesterday was an eye-opener. It’s time to move on.” I run my hand over her messy golden curls to tame them. She trails her hand under my shirt and reaches up to my chest.

She lets out a gasp when her chilled fingertip finds my nipple. “Did you let them close up?”

I look down between our bodies and realize I didn’t put the silicone barbells in last night. “Shit, I forgot. They’re probably closed.” I shift my weight off of her and get to my feet. I rush to the en suite bathroom and pull the shirt over my head to inspect my nipples. As I suspected, they’re sealed shut. Like Rook never happened. “Well, while we’re at it.” I turn my head to see the rook piercing in the mirror, but my fingers are too big to unscrew the barbell. “Can you help me?” I ask Appa.