Page 38 of Perfect
“Um, I know you pretty well,” I say, aiming for nonchalance.
“How?” I shrug. I can see her thinking, her face hardening the longer she considers me. “I didn’t just happen to meet you at that bar, did I?” I try to keep my face neutral, but her eyes widen. “My office?” I say nothing, and she looks away quickly, drinking more wine and curling into a tighter ball. I want to comfort her, but I know I need to follow her lead right now, especially since she’s so upset, so I don’t reach for her.
She puts the bottle of wine down slowly. “I’m calling the fucking cops,” she says, her breathing unsteady. I grimace and look up at the ceiling.
She’sreallygoing to hate this.
“Sweetheart, we both know that’s not an option for you,” I say, keeping my voice soft. Her mouth drops open in shock. “Plus, I have your phone,” I mutter, and she blanches, looking around frantically. “I’ll give it back to you on Sunday, okay? I think we should take this weekend to get to know each otherbetter.” She freezes, her face horrified as she stares down at her hands, her voice a hoarse whisper.
“You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” I feel a surge of indignation, trying to remember that she doesn’t know me or fully understand what we have yet.
“Alex, look at me.” Fuck, she looks so scared, and I just want to hold her. I grip my knees tightly to keep from reaching for her. “I amnevergoing to hurt you, okay? I promise. I just want us to spend the weekend getting…adjusted.”
“Adjusted towhat?”
“To our relationship. We should take some time to get to know each other better. Together. As acouple.” The more I talk, the wider her eyes get, and she’s so pale she looks ill.
I didn’t expect this to go perfectly, but this isn’t even goingwell.
I feel a spike of anxiety and start babbling, trying to explain it to her, hoping she’ll understand. “What we have is really special, Alex. We work well together. We’re complementary, but we’re also similar in a lot of ways that will make building a life together easy.” She starts to hyperventilate, but I can fix this if I can just make her understand. “Woah, hey, calm down,nopressure. I don’t expect us to get married and have kids tomorrow, you know?” I try to smile at her, but the look on her face kills it immediately.
I should probably stop talking now, but I can’t.
“Doyou want kids? You’re so good with Miles that -” Alex starts to cry, and I can’t stop fucking talking.“Okay, wrong time. I’m just saying this isnew- take some deep breaths, okay? - and we need time toadjustbefore - oh, no, please don’t -” I finally stop talking because Alex is having another panic attack.
I’m such a fucking asshole.
I move very slowly, gently taking her face in my hands as I talk her through counting her breaths. Her eyes are round andwatery and locked on mine the entire time, and we finally get her breath into a slow, deep rhythm. I grab the blanket from the back of the couch and pull her close, wrapping my arms around her and covering us with the blanket.
She doesn’t pull away from me, but she’s completely nonresponsive.
We sit like that through several episodes ofPride and Prejudice. She starts shaking in my arms at one point, and when I realize she’s crying, my knee starts bouncing quickly. I focus on the fact that this is kind of like the normal nights we’ll have together soon, minus the fact that she can’t stop crying and I’m so anxious I want to vomit.
It’s still a step in the right direction.
I finally relax a little when she falls asleep in my arms, and then I start to freak out. I drop my head against the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling and trying to meditate, to compartmentalize, to manage my feelings, to figure out how to get back in control of the situation.
I totally fucked this up, but it’s going to get better.
It’s an adjustment forbothof us.
13
ALEX
SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 23
I’m the sad little girl in the painting, and the rabbit and I climb out of the frame and into the Alice in Wonderland mural my mother painted in my childhood bedroom. We fall down the rabbit hole and land in the kitchen where my parents are laughing and dancing, and Danny is standing in the corner, screaming silently. The kitchen lights become the bright summer sunlight of Cape Cod, and the rabbit becomes my grandmother, yelling at me for swimming out farther than I’m supposed to.
I keep swimming out, the water beneath me getting deeper and deeper, when something grabs my leg and pulls me under, dragging me down quickly. I kick it off and swim towards thelight rippling across the surface of the water, but no matter how hard I swim, I can’t seem to get any closer. My lungs are burning with the need to breathe, and I gasp for air. Water rushes into my nose and mouth, pouring down my throat and into my lungs, and I start choking as the edges of my vision fade.
I drift farther away from the light, and the last thing I feel is the thing beneath the surface grab me again.
I wake up gasping, my heart racing as I struggle against the arm wrapped tightly around my waist. I take deep, shaky breaths, trying to get my heart rate down, aware of the oppressive heat of Theo curled around me, still asleep, one arm underneath my pillow and the other locked around my waist.
I’ve woken from one nightmare to find myself in another.
My new life has become an alternate version of my old life, and I have no idea what to do. I’m not in control of anything anymore.
