Page 68 of Dear Adam
“How about I tell you everything tomorrow?” I ask.
“Deal,” he says, his eyes fluttering closed. Then he blinks them open and stares at me. “Hey Aly?”
“Hmm?” The buzzing and whirring of the machines he’s hooked up to is oddly calming, causing me to get a little drowsy, too.
“I had the craziest dream while I was asleep that you and Levi brought Pretzel in here. Isn’t that funny? It seemed so real. I could almost feel her next to me.”
“Adam,” I say, chuckling softly. “We did sneak her in here, and she did crawl up onto your bed.”
“You did?” he asks, relief flooding his face. “I knew it seemed too real to be a dream. Levi was with you, wasn’t he? I remember his voice.”
“He was,” I say carefully.
“Tell me about it tomorrow?” he asks.
“Tomorrow,” I promise as he lays his head back on the pillow and falls fast asleep.
Chapter thirty-one
Levi
It’sbeenonewholeweek since my entire world crashed down around me. Seven days of misery induced by the image of that slimy greaseball Hudson wrapping his arm around Aly and walking her through those gates like she was his. All week, I’ve been wrestling with that. How could she hate the guy one minute, and the next, attend one of the most important social events in Charleston on his arm? I was supposed to be the guy standing next to her, my arm wrapped around her, whispering jokes into her ear all night to keep her smiling in an otherwise tense situation. I was supposed to protect her from anything and everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong at that dinner. Instead, I’m the guy tossed to the side with not even so much as a second thought.
After the way she found Adam’s phone, I can’t say I blame her. If I could go back and give her the phone at the very beginning, I would. I wouldn’t chicken out every time I tried. I wouldn’t read any of those private text messages.
So yeah, I could see why she was upset, which only made me more angry with myself. Looking back, I realize Aly would’ve given me a chance if I would’ve come clean from the beginning. How could I have thought that giving her the phone would’ve screwed all that up?
I get up off Mom and Dad’s couch and turn offSleepless in Seattle,which has been playing on repeat all week. Mom comes in and stands in front of the TV, hands on her hips.
“Are you going to shower this week? Maybe get off the couch? At the very least, watch something different? Your dad and I have had all we can take of Meg Ryan and the way you smell.”
“Thanks for the tough love.” I press play on the movie anyway while simultaneously sniffing my armpit.Yikes.With a disappointed shake of her head, she walks back into the kitchen, she and Dad sharing whispered words. It’s still dark outside, which means it’s either early morning, or late night. In my rom com and ice cream induced haze, it seems I’ve lost track of time.
“I think he’s heart broken, Tom. What do we do?”
“He needs to toughen up and get back to work. That’s what I think.” Dad makes no attempt to hide his gruff tone, and the screech of his chair being pushed back from the table fills the silence.
“Oh, Tom! Could you be a little more sensitive?”
“Nope. I gotta get back to work.” A soft smack sounds from the kiss he plants on Mom’s cheek, then he’s in the living room. He bends to put his boots on and, when they’re laced, he turns to me. “Have you tried talking to her?” he asks quietly. I shake my head, too tired to go into detail.
“You know where she works, don’t you?” he asks with a raised brow then slips out the door.
With a sigh, I turn off the TV. He has a point. I have to make at least one more attempt to apologize. If she accepts, great. If she doesn’t…well, I don’t want to think about a life without Aly.
Searching for my phone, I finally locate it wedged between two cushions and check the time. It’s seven in the morning, and Bloomie’s doesn’t open until nine, but I know there’s a fair chance she’s already there, preparing for the day. Summoning the courage, I pry myself off the couch and slide on my tennis shoes
“Um, Levi?” Mom asks, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyeing me warily.
“Hmm?”
“A shower never hurt anyone.” She points behind her to the bathroom. “I just restocked it with fresh towels. You better enjoy a bathroom to yourself while you can, anyway. Glenda called and said she’ll be here this evening.”
“Right,” I said, managing a smile. “It’s about time she brought my dog back.”
“I think she’s grown pretty fond of Hank. She sent me a picture of them in matching pajamas last night.”
“She sent me the same picture. Hank looks miserable. He’ll never forgive me.”
