Page 62 of Never Let You Go

I wake up to an agonizingly shrilly noise that howls through the pulp that is my brain. Groaning doesn’t help. There’s no one to put an end to this. I force my sanded eyes open and manage to turn a light on. An old-fashioned, cartoon-like alarm clock is responsible for the increase of my headache, and I manage to figure out how to turn it off.

My head feels like it’s split in half, until my eyes fall on my nightstand. There’s a glass of water, three aspirins, and a travel mug of coffee.

Aspirin and water down, I take a sip of the coffee.

Then a second. It’s made to perfection, just like I like it.

Except better.

Yesterday night’s events slowly come back in focus in uneven spurts, the memories jogged by the fact that I’m still dressed in the skimpy dress—stockings and all—and my pumps are neatly set at the foot of my bed.

Ohmygod.

I came back drunk.

Correction. Christopher picked me up drunk from Lazy’s. Where the whole town witnessed my shameful behavior.

And I remember asking Christopher to kiss me.

And then I threw up, pretty much, in his arms.

All this after throwing a fit because I saw lipstick on his shirt.

Well of course he’d rather hang out with Emma than with me. That woman has her shit together. A business! A kid she raises on her own! And chicken that make fresh eggs that she brings to him!

You wouldn’t catch her drunk at friggin’ karaoke.

I’m such a disaster.

This morning, the proverbial walk of shame is going to have a whole new meaning.

sixteen

Christopher

Ihear her steps early.

She slept like a log. I didn’t. That’s how I know how well she slept. No tossing and turning. No getting up. Nothing.

Me? All night, I went over what she said when she was in my arms, in no state to say anything sound.

And I also go over what I said to her before she left for Justin’s, when I came back from Emma’s. That there was no space in my life for another woman.

I think back at what she told me she said to Skye, to appease her.

I think back at how she looked at my shirt. At that spot of lipstick, that she clocked the minute I got back. How jealousy ignited fire in her eyes.

I think back at how she looked at my bare chest.

Thirsty.

I want her right there. God, I want her right there, right where she was after being at Lazy’s. Coming onto me. Begging me to make her mine.

But I need her to do that sober. And I need her to take the first step. And the second.

Hell, I need her to take all the steps. To define what she wants, so I can hold myself to that.

Because I want her all the way. And I don’t know what she wants.

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