I'm only okay with you
On his part, Leonard was suddenly facing an aspect he was unfamiliar with. His years of marriage had never given him what he now shared with Susan; his countless escapades with young women had never shown him this strange side, which could both overwhelm and enchant him.
After the engagement, despite each living their own lives, Susan and Leonard started spending more time together, experiencing cohabitation. He wasn’t used to this kind of intimacy, the simple, everyday moments shared daily. Dear Leonard, in his fifties, was learning new things.
Marrying without love, spending years with someone he didn’t love and who didn’t love him created an emotional distance, more than a physical one. Even though they lived under the same roof, for him it was the same as being alone. He didn’t participate in anything, didn’t care about anything, and escaped that cold place whenever he could; until finally, he stopped escaping and simply disappeared at will.
Now he found himself entering the bathroom of his apartment and seeing Susan’s things everywhere: a perfume, a hair ribbon, the devices she used for her hair, creams. His whole apartment had a different scent: hers. He had never noticed these details before, and Susan cooked for him. He would hover around her in the kitchen like a restless child; curious about every movement, every ingredient, everything.
"How is it possible for a man like him to be tender?" she often asked herself. She still remembered those days when, with arrogance and shamelessness, he had stood in Daniel’s way; the times she had seen him in the city arm in arm with a younger woman, with that arrogant attitude. It was as if another man had taken his place.
"What's that for?" he asked while watching her.
"This is cilantro, it’s used to flavor some dishes."
"Ohhh."
But his other self persisted: the man with appetites. And how could he resist when, from one day to the next, the woman who prepared delicious meals for him had become the most beautiful and sensual of all? He would hug her by the waist while she had her back turned, and with kisses and caresses, whispering softly, they had burned several dishes.
No matter how many times they shared that kind of intimacy, it was what came after that amazed him. The lethargy after passion, the conversations while cuddling as sleep took them, the gentle caresses and tender kisses that helped calm his heart. It had taken Reed many years to have this in his life, and he clung to it tightly.
This bond wasn’t just about physical connection, but also emotional. As he spent more time with her, he realized that his ability to share and understand feelings grew. It could scare him as much as it made him fall more in love. He was surprised to see her get out of bed and walk naked to the bathroom, only to return with a smile and snuggle up beside him.
"How are you so beautiful? I don’t understand," he asked, and Susan just laughed.
He watched her while she organized an exhibition over the phone; with a serious expression and fixed eyes, moving her hand and speaking confidently. Another Crusher; well, not counting the fool. The kind of woman he had never dared to love. Delighting in the affection and admiration he felt for Susan plunged him into a whirlwind of contradictory emotions. The appreciation and passion he experienced mixed with a growing insecurity about how to maintain this perfect balance. How could he ensure their connection continued to strengthen without losing himself? Especially given his own nature.
He felt proud and, at the same time, overwhelmed by his own sense of inadequacy. Every time she showed such confidence and determination, Leonard wondered if he could truly measure up to someone so extraordinary. Because that's what she was to him: the perfect woman.
That's why he had this need to solve things for her; to step in and want to help her, even though Susan never asked him to. And she always sought to give him reassurance; in those moments when he relaxed after showering her with kisses. Maybe it was a matter of finding a balance between his own desire to improve and the acceptance that, sometimes, the best thing he could do was simply be there for her, as she was for him.
Susan noticed the transformation in Leonard. She saw him making an effort to understand the little details of her daily life; every gesture, every curious question revealed a Leonard who, in some way, was beginning to open up to the intimacy of emotions, and she knew it was new for him.
"I love it when you caress me like that," she told him.
"What if we take a trip? Where do you want to go?" he asked suddenly.
"A trip?"
"Yes, let's go somewhere sunny or skiing or we can go to the mountains... just the two of us."
"I'd love to, but we're starting to organize the new exhibition this week."
"What about a quick getaway for a few days?... Or we could remodel your apartment."
"What are you talking about? What's wrong with my apartment?"
"Nothing..."
"How about we just stay here and share more things together? We don't need to do too much, Leonard."
"Move in with me," he blurted out.
"Move in..."
"Yes, anyway, we're going to get married. This going back and forth, having to bring and take things; sometimes I come and you're not there... The other day I brought dinner from the restaurant you like, and you hadn't arrived, and then..."
"Wait! Tell me what's going on."
"I'm sorry, all of this is new to me. I don't know if I'm doing it right, I just think that if you're always with me, I'll stop feeling this anxiety... If you live with me, you'll be charmed by my grumpy face when I wake up, and you won't want to leave me."
"I don't want to leave you, and I've already seen your grumpy face many times."
"Well, then just help me and live with me... I'll starve if you don't cook for me."
The difficulty and complexity of intimacy also have many decisive aspects: it strengthens security and gives us the feeling that no matter the roof over our heads, home is always with those who accompany us in life.