Dont Judge Me Ch 20

"I'm such an idiot," I mumbled into my hands as they concealed my face. I sat in the middle of the back seat of the limo as Angelo and Nia climbed in from opposite sides. They were both concerned, wondering what was wrong.

"What's going on? Can I help?" Angelo was sincere.

"Honey, whatever it is, please tell us. Are you ok?" Nia's sweetly melodic, soothing voice embraced and showered me with care.

Darryl watched intently in the mirror, also clearly unable to understand the bizarre events he had witnessed, and concerned for me.

I was completely humiliated. Removing my hands from my face would expose me to the cold reality, where I would need to explain what a complete ass I had been. How could I do it? I didn't have the nerve.

Nia touched my arm. I felt her genuine concern, her innocence, and her compassion. I turned towards her and dared to lower my hands. I wasn't ready for the boys yet.

Her face was radiant. She was so welcoming and caring. I had to confess to her. She deserved it.

"I thought... I mean... I saw the shirt, you know? And the photo... and, " you guessed it, the water works started up again. It's so crippling to be a crier, but I can't help it. The poor girl had no idea what I was talking about. She searched Angelo's face, and apparently didn't get any answers there, either.

I had to break through the crying so that I could say something, anything, that would get me past this humiliating moment.

I whirled around and slapped Angelo's bare chest, harder than I intended, which was a bit embarrassing, but I had to just go with it in the moment. I angrily growled through gritted teeth, "Why didn't you tell me you had a sister?"

It wasn't fair, of course. I mean, why would he tell me that? It's not his fault, but I needed to get angry to break through my crippling habit of crying all the time.

He was stumped for an answer, naturally, and he just let my violent slap go past without comment while he struggled to think of where to go from there in the conversation, and a red mark began to bloom where i had struck him.

"Oh no! What did I do? Is this my fault?" Nia gasped behind me. I had to quickly turn back to console her. She had recoiled, both hands over her mouth, mortified that she might be to blame for... whatever was going on.

"It's not your fault, Nia," I reassured her without effect. "I just... wasn't expecting you to be there is all. It sort of surprised me." I attempted a winning smile, as though that vacuous explanation would be sufficient to explain my alarming behavior.

"Wait a minute..." Darryl interjected. "Did you think Nia and Angelo were... like she was..." he was catching on. Everything was teetering on the brink. In less than a second he would get it. Then he would blurt it. And then these other two would understand. They would understand what a contemptible twit I am.

There was nothing I could do.

My throat seized up. My eyes bugged open. I prepared to witness my doom.

"... you thought Nia was his girlfriend???" He landed the blow with unmitigated incredulity.

"omigod", I whispered involuntarily, as I quietly died.

The shockwave hit both Nia and Angelo at the same time. I felt it. But while Angelo was stunned momentarily, Nia almost immediately responded with a gasp, "Woah! Really? Alright!" she seemed inexplicably happy about it, relishing the idea.

If Angelo was about to recover from the initial shock, he was then stunned back into silence by his sister's response, gesturing incomprehension at her.

"You really think I could pass for old enough to be his girlfriend?" Nia simpered, bouncing like a puppy.

Only then did I realize how young she really was, emotionally. She may have been seventeen or eighteen in age, but she was literally just so innocent, she was thinking like a thirteen year old. I was relieved that she was taking this so well, happy to be the dummy if it was some sort of complement to Nia.

"Nia, you're gorgeous. Heck yes, you can pass for much older. I thought I had stumbled into a love nest. I'm so sorry. I didn't even give you a chance." I fully meant the apology, but she wasn't listening. Her mind was popping with affirmations about how grown-up she must look.

"Wait, What???" Angelo finally caught up. "You couldn't possibly think that for real. Surely." He was genuinely mystified, and emphasized his final appeal with a high-pitched incredulity, "Really???".

"And why not? I can 'pass for much older', isn't that right?" she turned to me for support, not knowing my name, but clearly invoking my previous remark as evidence for her claim.

I bowed my head and then looked up at Angelo, "Your sister is unbelievably attractive. She's a rockstar, Angelo, super pretty. You might not have noticed, but I'm sure plenty of other people do." Behind me, I could feel Nia's elation at this affirmation. Angelo just shook his head in incomprehension, whether willful or not, unable to process that idea.

"Anyway," I wanted to move along, and just try to put all the humiliation behind me. "It doesn't matter any more. I'm just so sorry for the awful scene."

"Oh," Nia replied absentmindedly. "No need to apologize". She was trying to stifle a grin, and she was glowing with newfound confidence. At least one of us got a kick out of it.

We all spent the afternoon at Angelo's house. It was appointed neatly, and without anything flashy, gaudy, or showy. It was homely, in a neat-and-tidy way.

Watching him with Nia, Angelo clearly took his big brother role seriously, with a parental sort of authority, but a very kind and empathetic one. I knew full well that he had no problem understanding feminine needs (to say the least), but he did appear to have a little blind spot when it came to comprehending Nia's rapidly blooming womanhood, which had been out-paced by her already fully developed woman's body. Still, it had apparently escaped his attention. I pondered whether that was naive of him, or sweet, or ignorant. Over the afternoon I could see that the inner woman had been rapidly catching up to the outer one, and very soon she would not be that little kid sister Angelo saw her as at all. We got along famously, and I knew I was going to be Nia's friend, whatever else happened. Whatever went on between Angelo and me, I figured, it would help a lot if she had a woman around to help navigate that adjustment.

Angelo and I really needed to be alone to discuss what had happened. I gleaned that the boys didn't really talk about what happened "at work" in front of Nia, so I didn't raise the subject and we all just stuck with small talk. I could understand why Angelo would want to shield Nia from the details of his work, given her uncommon level of naivete, and his very (how shall we put it?) grown-up duties.

Finally, Darryl got the hint, or perhaps Angelo nudged him. He asked Nia to play XBox with him, something she apparently enjoyed. Darryl, like Angelo, simply didn't see Nia as a woman, and interacted with her as though she were twelve. And Nia responded to that. But she surely would not for much longer. I wondered what it was going to be like for Darryl when the scales fall from his eyes and he sees Angelo's-kid-sister-Nia as a woman for the first time, and has to grasp her very different, grown-up perspective on life. The thought of it made me giggle. But for now, he was leading her away so the grown-ups could have a conversation, patiently listening to her babbling about the exciting new updates she had to her pony club game.

And then we were alone.

I sipped my coffee, wondering if he was going to speak.

He wasn't.

I scanned his mind, and he was uncharacteristically uncomfortable. He had something to say, but wasn't saying it. This was in contrast to the confident, easy-going, open-book Angelo who had swept me off my feet.

I took a deep breath and blurted my own mind, "Miss Havisham said you quit."

He was silent, Looking at his feet. His mind pregnant with things he would like said, but still log-jammed and unable to say them.

I started to feel some resentment rising.

"I didn't know why you left." I fired a shot.

He sunk his head a little further and said nothing, his inner discomfort becoming a swirl of guilt and regret.

It wasn't good enough. "Why would you do that?" I asked in a level tone, but surely it was obvious that this was my ask. This was the question that mattered.

He knew.

He looked up sheepishly, and with a pained expression. "I didn't know what to do." he whispered. "I still don't."

He was beginning to cry.

Now I was angry, which was a good thing, because the last thing I needed right then was to start blubbering like a silly girl. I leaned into my anger, and shot back, "Well here's an idea. What about you could have said, 'I have to go away'? Or, 'I want to go away'? Or, 'You disgust me and I can't stand being near you another minute'?" I reached a crescendo, my voice quavering.

His dam burst. He started weeping, "Oh, God, no! No, no no. You don't understand. I'm so sorry."

The wind was taken out of my angry sails, but he still hadn't really explained anything. I decided to wait him out. I had made my point, made my stand, and it was his turn.

It took several moments before he could compose himself, but he pulled himself together and began, "The job at the manor. It's all about not having any... connections..., ok?"

Fuck, if that was his explanation, I'm about to commit a crime, I thought. My incandescent rage flared, wielding a rhetorical samurai sword, poised to behead, putting to death whatever this conversation and its relationship entanglements consisted of. But he was still speaking, so I held it in abeyance for a moment to see where this was going.

"I woke up early and saw you there. It's never happened before. I didn't know what to do. My job, it was over. And that's ok. But what then? I didn't know. How could I find you? I wasn't allowed. And then you showed up..." and he was crying again. Sobbing hopelessly as he was, I knew it would be a while before I got anything coherent from him. Not that his previous jumble was particularly clear, but it was at least ambiguous enough to continue the stay on unleashing the samurai decapitation. It remained in Damoclesian suspense.

What did he mean, "My job, it was over"? Was our lovemaking such a chore? Perhaps I should be insulted. But he sounded deeply conflicted. It didn't make sense.

I waited for a while, but he then settled into a soft sobbing that seemed self-indulgent, and likely to last a while. I wanted answers, so I pressed him, "What does any of that mean? You haven't explained anything at all." I was disappointed that my voice raise to a squeak at the end, belying my unstable emotions. I wanted to be cooler, more in control.

For the first time in minutes, he looked up at my face. His own face was blotchy and puffy from crying. He was totally defenseless, completely vulnerable. He shook his head and threw his arms out in exasperation, and like releasing a cork he blurted, "I fell in love with you!"

With this confession, he was empty. No more sobbing, just emotionally spent. His face imploring, hoping, resigned to being dependent on my response. It was a cry for help, more than a declaration of his devotion. His mind was just an empty landscape of hoping against hope, with no backup plan, helplessly awaiting his doom.

Well, the samurai sword felt completely awkward at this point. After a heartbeat, I swept him up. "That's why I'm here!" I started babbling. "That's what I told Miss Havisham, 'I love him', I said, and she told me Darryl could bring me here. Well.. not in so many words. But sort of. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'm so..." And then he kissed me.

Angelo was back. The bold, confident, amazing kisser, who smells so dreamy, was back. I was in his arms. Home. He lifted me effortlessly as we kissed, and slowly lowered me onto my back on the lounge. He could do anything he wanted, as far as I was concerned. I melted in his embrace. His hands starting by cradling my face in support of his urgent kissing, then started traveling over my clothes, reacquainting themselves with my features. I moved in encouragement as he explored, hungrily kissing him as deeply as possible.

Our breathing was rapidly getting heavier, our movements more urgent. It wasn't looking like I'd be finishing that coffee, put it that way.

"Oh, my god you guys, get a room!" Nia squealed in cheeky delight, and Angelo broke away abruptly.

"Oh, shit. Sorry Nia. Fuck. I'm so sorry," He immediately apologized, and went beet red.

"Whaaat? Oh, don't be silly. I'm just stirring you. Carry on!" she grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl. Presumably that's what she had come back into the living area for. She took a bite and spun on her heel to leave. "But you might be more comfy in a bed. I'm just sayin'," she shot back over one shoulder as she left the room, with a wink.

"Ugh, that poor kid," Angelo said, which genuine embarrassment and regret.

"She's really not a kid any more, you know," I ventured.

He looked in the direction of the doorway she had exited, "Ah," he sighed, "I know, she's growing up, but," he looked at me earnestly. "I don't know if I'm ready for that", he confessed.

"It's going to be ok," I assured him. I took his hand and began leading him in the direction where I had figured out the bedrooms were, "Everything's going to be ok."

But everything was not going to be ok.