Page 54 of Come Apart
I scrub at my face, trying to pull back from that emotional edge.
"Okay." I drop my hands. "Okay."
She's right. There's no good way for this conversation to end. And I don't know if a hospital room is the place to delve deep into our screwed-up past.
"Maybe we should start that game of rummy before someone notices our raised voices and confiscates our wine."
She nods.
I pull the cards from my pocket and start to shuffle, my mind having trouble shifting gears.
When I look up, Samantha is holding my gaze.
"Thanks," she says.
"For what?" "For being here."
* * *
I poreover work all evening.
As usual, that fucker Ryan is attempting to bury me in a pile of it. He's willing to do whatever it takes to convince me to sell.
But my irritation fades away when I see an email from Alyssa.
She never emails. She barely even uses the computer.
Luke,
Why didn't you warn me how fucking sweet you are when we met? Completely insane, but sweet :).
How the hell did you get a pour-over to Laurie's place so quickly? You know what—don't tell me. I don't want to know about the freaky drones that are going to take over the world.
Anyway, thank you. I really need the coffee today, and OH MY GOD it is so, so much better than the crap Laurie keeps in the freezer. Can you believe how low her coffee standards are? It's one thing to not like coffee. Fine. Plenty of people don't like coffee. But to keep it ground up in the freezer in that stupid plastic tin! It should be illegal to drink such awful coffee.
And before you even start, no, it should not be illegal to put honey in coffee. Honey and coffee are madly in love. Even more than we're in love.
And we are, Luke. I love you so much. But the scary thing is, I know what my life looks like without you—and it looks like total shit.
I'm so happy with you. I really am. I feel like I'm lighter than air when I'm around you. You're my trigger whenever I need to project love or joy or, obviously, lust.
And it's not that I'm not all in. I am. I just need more time. I need to feel like I know who I am. Because you're all consuming, and as much as I love that, I can't get consumed again.
I worry I'm going to be like the Alyssa of the past. But I don't want to be her anymore. I want to be strong. I want to be independent. I want to stand on my own.
Because that's how we'll know it's real—if we're together by choice, not out of a lack of better options.
I've already been there, done that.
God, I'm rambling. I'm sorry. I'm trying really hard to stay away from reviews, but they're so fucking tempting. And they're all at my fingertips.
Come back soon, okay?
Love,
Alyssa
P.S. If you, for some reason, come back in love with Samantha, I'll take Laurie up on her offer to have you killed. Don't make me complicit in murder. I'll crack on the cross, and I'll be an awful prisoner.
P.P.S. This isn't a threat... more of a hypothetical. For legal reasons, of course.
