Page 112 of Because of Dylan

And Dylan holds on to me.

Chapter Forty-Nine

The scentof coffee needles me awake. Light shines through my closed eyelids. The faint chirps of a bird follow. My body aches, and my mouth tastes sour. I stay in place, comfortable and warm despite the aches. I’m slow to fully awaken as I figure out what my senses are trying to tell me. I have a headache, but I’m not hungover—that’s good.

I nuzzle deeper into the covers.

Wait!

This is not my bed.

My eyes pop open. I sit up, brush the mess of hair out of my face.

I’m not in my dorm. The room is big, airy, clean.

Dylan.

I’m at Dylan’s house. But this is not his bedroom.

Then the memories hit me.

Dancing with Dylan and Tommy.

Laughing.

Therapist11.

Dylan is Therapist11.

Me running. And him picking me up and carrying me back.

I scramble out of the bed. I need to get out. I can’t face him again.

I find my purse and jacket on a chair. My shoes next to it. I’m moving now, putting my jacket and shoes on, my hands shake so much it takes me three tries to lace my sneakers. I check my bag for my cell and find my keys.

My heart is thundering. I take a deep breath trying to calm myself, but I know I won’t be okay until I’m far away from here. I can’t see him again. I can’t look at him and know that he knows everything. Almost everything about me.

My hand pauses on the doorknob, and I wait—listen for movement outside the door. It’s quiet. I open the door and make my way to the stairs, go down the steps like a ghost, cross the living room to the front door.

“Becca? Wait.”

Dylan calls to me, but I don’t stop. I don’t look at him. I can’t. I’m out the door and running to my car. He follows me. Stops me on the lawn a few feet away from my car. His hand is gentle on my wrist, he turns me to him.

“Please, stop. Don’t run away from me again. Let’s talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I said too much already. You know everything.” Almost everything.

“I had no idea it was you, please believe me. I would never do anything like that. I would have referred you to someone else if I ever thought this was possible.”

I pull my hand from his grasp. “It’s a fucking small world, isn’t it?”

He runs both hands through his hair. “Becca, please! I swear, I had no idea. The program received over three thousand calls since it started. This changes nothing.”

“It changes everything. Don’t you understand? I can’t be this person.” I slap my chest with both hands. “There can’t be an us when you know what happened to me. I can’t leave her behind, she’s here now, and she makes everything ugly.”

“No, she doesn’t. There’s no her. There’s only you, and nothing about you is ugly. Not a single thing. It makes no difference to me.”

“It makes a difference to me.” I hit my chest with a fist now. “You think I’m good. You think I won’t drag you down with me. You don’t know everything.”

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