Page 262 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
I move to the wall of windows and open the top one to allow fresh air to travel in and carry my germs out. It makes the room cold, which leads me to light up the fire. An orange flame grows, chewing through small logs before I turn to the sound of whimpering.
“That can’t be on,” Dollie whispers.
I didn’t think. I’m sorry,I sign. The glow behind me makes the room bright again, making it easy for her to see.Nothing will hurt you while we’re together. I promise you’re safe.
The realization that I should have asked comes a minute too late, but it’s clear now that assuming she’d have worked through her fears was poor judgment.
Slumping down, I decide I’m not gonna move from her side for the rest of the night. My bad knee hurts, my head feels ready to explode, and I still can’t breathe normally. On top of all that, I know she needs me close.
I stay on my own cushion, crouched against the arm of the sofa.
She inches a little closer, eyes on the orange flames as she coughs into her sleeve, reminding me that she’s already ill.
Maybe I’m worrying too much.
But maybe I’m not.
Maybe she’s worsening here because of me.
Open the popcorn now, or Dollie will get so ill, she’ll die,my broken mind teases.
Giving in, I crack open the popcorn and offer the bag to Dollie first before I contaminate it.
She takes a giant handful, which, given the size of her hands, is still quite small.
I nod, encouraging her to take another handful because I know she’ll want more, and she does, lining them all out on my hoodie.
“So, what do you wanna watch?” she asks around the popcorn in her mouth, her gaze finally redirected from the fireplace.
I side-eye her with harsh judgment, and she quickly covers her mouth, remembering the rules that no longer apply to her.
Her germs don’t scare me.
The full mouth and talking aren’t why I’m judging her. I’m judging her for thinking I’ll want to watch any movie she’ll approve of.
“I’ll let you pick.” She inches even closer.
I use my phone to answer her after I tuck myself under the comforter.
AmbroseLa’[email protected]:
You’ll regret it.
We don’t like the same movies.
“I’ll brave my first scary one. For you.”
AmbroseLa’[email protected]:
You sure?
Because I’ll tolerate something fluffy and innocent.
For you.
“I’m sure.” The hint of fear on her face isn’t for the movie. “Things are never as scary when you’re here.”
Her words bring a smile to my lips, and it stays there while I type.
