Page 46 of Tin

“I could call Sid. Tell her I’m not coming in today. We could just...be. Lie in bed. Go for a walk. Whatever you want.”

He sits on his mattress, already dressed and ready to go. He needs to show up to feed Nox this morning, just like he always does. He knows that. I know that. He’s just scared to leave me. And that’s something we both know as well.

“Sid needs you. Nox needs you.”

He gets up and crosses the small room in two steps to get to where I’m leaning against the wall. He kisses me. “But I need you.”

And I need him. God, Ineedhim.

“Then stay.” The words trickle out of my mouth before I can do anything about it. I have no business asking him to do something I can’t do in return. I can’t stay. I want to. More than ever before. But I can’t. Not anymore. Not now that I know.

The day passes in a blur, both of us too wrapped up in the aftermath of our own emotions to verbalize anything that isn’t completely necessary. By the time night falls, we’re still not saying much, and even when we make love, the usual screams of ecstasy are replaced by hushed whispers and quiet moans filled with the intensity of our feelings and the ache of knowing it’s really just a long, passionate kiss goodbye.

It takes forever before Riker finally falls asleep, and it’s close to five in the morning when I’m tiptoeing out of his apartment with a small bag and Harley at my side. The door clicks shut behind me, and I’m walking out on him. Doing exactly what I always knew I was capable of. And I don’t feel a single solitary thing outside of the cold hatred that fills me up entirely, nearly suffocating me as I begin the shameful trip back to Kirsten’s. Of all the despicable things I’ve done in my life, this one will top the list as long as I live.

Since Kirsten isn’t exactly expecting me back, the bed in the downstairs room is completely stripped. Not wanting to wake anyone at this unfortunate hour, I curl up in one of the reclinersin front of the movie screen, and Harley does the same. I swear, even he’s disappointed in me. He just keeps staring at me, and his disapproval rips at my conscience, which is already in shreds without his help.

I have no expectation of sleep. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. Well, that’s crazy. Of course I’ll sleep again. But sleep would be a kindness right now. And I don’t deserve any. There shouldn’t be any relief for me. Not even the temporary kind.

So I sit here and force my eyes to focus on the clock, watching the minutes pass me by one at time. No TV, no music, and definitely no sleep. Just my own thoughts to occupy me. Many of them I’ve had before. They recycle well. Especially now. Because if I hadn’t done the things I did back then, I wouldn’t have had to do what I did tonight. It’s all connected. One massive chain reaction.

For a while, I allowed myself to believe that the past was really that—the past. Gone. Closed. Removed from my present. Uninvited to my future. I was wrong, but I’m used to that. I’m wrong a lot.

By seven fifty I hear people moving around upstairs. Part of me is desperate to be found. The other is hoping against all hope that no one will come down those stairs until after I’ve left for California.

Hope keeps me going until ten. Then the door opens and Kirsten’s heels come clicking down the steps.

“Holy shit!” Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “You scared me! What the hell are you doing here?” She’s already pissed, and she hasn’t even heard the story. Wasn’t that long ago she would have assumed Riker was to blame. Then he landed in her good graces and she came to realize I was the solid fuck-up she could continue to count on.

“I’m moving back.” I don’t actually believe that she’ll accept such a simple answer, but I try never to overshoot my offers. I’d rather she reject it and I counter, and we continue the negotiations until she has enough of what she needs and I have some of my privacy left too.

“No, you’re not.” She marches straight for me. “Get your ass up out of that chair and go back. Right now.”

“You don’t understand, Kirsten. I can’t be with him. And staying...even the next two weeks...I can’t do it.” I stand up, but only because I feel like it will help me make a stronger argument.

“Why not? Why can’t you do it? Because he makes you too happy? Makes you feel too loved? Too safe? Too cared for? What is it? Tell me!” She’s gesturing at me furiously, and twice she makes a fist I think she might wish she could swing at me.

“Because I feel nothing! That’s why. He feels everything, and I feelnothing!” I shout. “I slid out of his arms and crept out of his home in the middle of the night while he was sound asleep, and I feltnothing. I was completely numb. Who does that, Kirsten? What kind of monster does the things I’m capable of?”

I want her to keep being angry at me. I want her to keep yelling. But her furious demeanor slips away leaving behind a mixture of pity and heartache.

“You’re so stupid,” she whispers. She shakes her head, but her hands hang listless at her side. “You don’t go numb from feeling nothing. You go numb from feelingtoomuch.”

I press my lips together, as if that will somehow keep everything sealed inside me. “No. You’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not.” She takes a step closer. “You love him, Quinn. And what you’re feeling right now isn’t nothing. It’s heartbreak.”

“I can’t love him.” I hiss out the words, trying with all my might to keep the tears from falling.

She tilts her head and looks at me with a sad curiosity shining in her glossy eyes. “Why not?”

“Because. If I love him...and he loves me...it will make it that much more unbearable when we can’t be together.” I’ve lost. My own body has defeated me and now threatens to destroy what’s left with the ache of a thousand heaving sobs desperate to burst from my chest.

“But why can’t you be together? Did he say something? Did you tell him about Jackson? What happened?” Her arms wrap around me, cradling me like I’m a baby.

“It’s not about my past this time. It’s . . . about . . . his,” I blubber through my tears.

“What are you talking about?” She almost sounds scared. I guess I would be, too, considering some of the conversations she’s had to have with me.

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