Page 78 of Come Apart

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She's sitting on the rug. It's the same crimson rug we always sit on. Once upon a time, I made a joke about fucking on the rug.

She didn't laugh at that one either.

I take a seat on the couch. Samantha frowns. Pats the spot next to her.

But I shake my head.

She pushes herself off the floor and plops next to me. She's close, closer than she should be. She rests her head on my shoulder. Wraps her hand around my arm.

"Sam, don't..."

"Please." It's a high-pitched plea. She takes a long sip of her wine, her cheeks flushing with color. "Just hold me for a while."

Fuck me. Was Alyssa right?

I push her off as gently as I can. "You know I can't."

She sighs, wrapping her fingers around the stem of her glass. "Right. I'm sorry... I shouldn't ask...."

"Sam..."

She hugs her chest with her arms, her eyes turned to the floor. "Wouldn't a minute be okay?" It's so desperate, like she'll fall apart if I don't immediately wrap my arms around her.

But it's not happening. "No." My voice is harsh. A warning not to ask again.

She shakes her head. "Of course. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…" She brings her eyes to mine for a moment. "You're the best thing in my life. Please don't think I have the wrong idea."

I nod. It's possible Samantha did forget. It's possible she really means nothing by her request. That it's just the wine.

But it's also possible she knows exactly what she's doing.

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