Page 276 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
“Ambrose?” There’s a look of concern on Dollie’s features, but it’s the distance in her eyes that grabs my attention.
Can I talk to her again? Will something bad happen?
Answer her, or you’ll lose her forever.
I limp forward.
“Are you okay?” I use my mouth, but my hands still move.
“I think I did something awful.” Her eyes remain cold, almost lifeless in their glossy state. “Oh, God. I think I’ve done something terrible.”
Wiping sweaty hands down her inherited hoodie, her fingers linger on the material.
I take her in through squinted eyes as she begins rocking on the spot.
Something is really fucking wrong.
What is it, Dollie? Are you okay?I mouth.
What the fuck happened between now and ten minutes ago, when I lifted her off me and returned her to the sofa and the comforter she’d been hogging.
“I had a bad dream. But I feel like it was real, like a memory that—” The amount of tears welling in her eyes multiply, falling down her cheeks in twos and threes when she blinks. “God, Idid something so bad.” A heartbreaking cry comes out with the words.
I feel it in my chest, a pressure that no amount of rubbing can rid. I stop and reach for her, hands brushing her pretty pink hair from her face.
“You can’t touch me.” She bats me away, stepping back and falling into the door frame before weak legs take her to the floor. “How can you even touch me?”
A heavy feeling in my chest grows, making each breath harder. I lower to my haunches, that painful joint clicking, and I return to the comfort of silence, hands moving.Do you have regrets?
Her head shakes rapidly, pink hair flying everywhere. “No, but you should hate me. God, I fucking hate me.”
The light coating of sweat protests as I try once more to brush it from her face, stray strands clinging to her cheeks.
More tears fall.
“I don’t hate you. I worship the air you breathe.” I struggle with the whispered words.
Tilting her chin, her lips move in my view, but no sound comes out.
“Memories can’t hurt you.” I realize what a lie this is as soon as it comes out of my mouth.
“This one did. This one really did. I hurt me. I think I hurt them.”
I take her tiny hands, giving them a gentle squeeze in mine.
She’s too close to the truth—to the edge of insanity.
“I’m sorry,” her words call my eyes back to hers. “I’m so sorry for what I put you through. What I did?—”
“No, you don’t have to be sorry for anything.” I struggle with the words, but I mean them all the same.
“I do. I do. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t get to live on like everything is normal.”
“It was a dream, Dollie.”
“It was a memory. I can feel it. I can smell them. I can hear Dad begging me not to hurt Mom.”
Dollie’s hands cover her face, hiding the sadness.
