Page 143 of Never Let You Go

No comparison.

He ignores me. “I don’t know what went on in your head, back then, and I wasn’t there to help you through the shit that went down with Skye.” He pauses and strokes his bicep. “But I saw you then. And I see you now. Totally different.”

Yup.

“She gets you. She’s there for you. She’s good for you.”

Fuck. Don’t you think I know that?

“Don’t let her go.”

I stare at him.

“You’re fucking scared, aren’t you?” he says.

Scared? “Of what?”

“Of putting yourself out there. Telling her that you need her. That you want her. It’s easier to just blame it on her and let her go.”

Easier than what? Than being alone, without her, for the rest of my life?

“Look who’s talking,” I say.

“I’m very happy being single, man. You, clearly, are not.”

forty-one

Alexandra

We turn the angle of May, and mud season turns into spring: colorful bulbs blooming everywhere, trees still bare, and enough of a chill to sometimes warrant a winter coat.

Spring in New York used to bring me happiness. Here, now, it signals the end of my stay here. Six weeks, give or take, and I’ll be gone.

I need my girlfriend from New York.

“Hey, girl, how’s it going?” Sarah asks, answering my call. “Are you outside? I hear wind.”

“I’m at the river.” I stretch my legs out in front of me. I’m plopped on a bench and let the spring sun warm my skin. Skye is riding her bicycle on a small trail up and down the hill, and she waves at me every time she goes up, her tongue sticking out to show me how much effort it is. We’re downhill from a white colonial house with broken black shutters. Daffodils spring haphazardly in front of a picket fence that is missing more than a few slats. On her way back up, Skye calls my name at the top of her lungs. I blow her a kiss.

“Are you babysitting?” Nothing escapes Sarah.

I cringe at what she’s going to say when I confess, “Just looking after Christopher’s daughter. Skye.”

“Oh, my. And where is the hot dad?”

I can picture her face, eyebrows lifted, waiting for more.

I hold a sigh. “Playing hockey.”

“Oh-kay?”

“What.”

“How come you’re stuck watching the kid while he’s doing one of the sexiest things I can think of without showing any skin?”

“Hockey is sexy?”

“Honey. Wake up. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen him play.”

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