Page 132 of Who I Really Am

He fiddles with my fingers. “Well. You’re sweet to say it.”

I have to hunch a little to get right in his downturned face. “I say it because it’s the truth. You’re…you’re…”

“I’m a mess, Allie. And my chickens are coming home to roost.”

“What chickens?”

This time when he releases my hand, he stands, but tugs my heart up with him. Where is the take-it-in-stride, laughing, almost glib man I met at Jake’s?

On the way to jail, you moron.

He tucks his hands in his pockets. “So, here’s what I need you to do.”

I’m all ears.

“I need you to get well. Get healthy. Get past all this garbage—panic attacks included.” He backs his command with a lowered brow.

Like, get professional help? I rip a shred of cuticle from my thumb.

Suddenly, a finger lifts my chin. “I mean it, Annalise. Take care of yourself. Nothing about any of this needs to define you. Got it?”

Feeling tears, ever close to the surface, I nod.

He drops his hand. “Get that job. Make those friends. Steer clear of the Kyles of the world.”

Could have left that part out of his pep talk.

“And the Marcos. I’m assuming your creepdetector has been finely tuned?”

“You’re not a creep, Marco.”

His smile mostly holds. “If you say so, Allie.”

Gulp.When did my heart start liquifying every time he said my name?Hisname for me.

“Oh.” He wags his finger. “And no more side boob either, got it?”

“Don’t tell me what to wear, you sexist.” I grumble, but it’s hard to keep the grin I’m feeling on the inside.

“I am not a sexist; I am a truthteller. Seriously, it’s like rat bait, Allie Girl.”

Allie Girl…

I adjust the sheet around my waist and snark, “Maybe it’s rat poison.”

Laughing, he shakes his head. “Well, you are a bit of a troublemaker.”

In spite of myself, I laugh. In spite of the fact that I hear the finality between the lines of his spoken words.

The laughter dies. “You’re saying goodbye, aren’t you?”

“I am headed to Dallas—”

“I’m not talking about Dallas.”.

Marco picks at a wrinkle in the sheet.

“This isn’t about going to jail either, is it? You’re cutting me out of your life.” I say the words with boldness, but the truth is, a nameless thing inside me is cracking. Viscerally, I want to hold on to Marco and never let go, and here he is exactingly severing the ties that bind us.

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