"Stop making excuses for me."
"Okay, okay. It was a bitch move to sleep with him."
"Thanks."
"And even worse to lead me on for so long. But... I still don't hate you." I take a deep breath and make a point of unfurling my fingers. "Now, maybe we start that game of rummy before someone notices our raised voices and confiscates our wine."
She nods. I pull the cards from my pocket and start to shuffle. When I look up, Samantha is holding my gaze.
"Thanks," she says.
"For what?"
"For being honest." Her eyes turn to the floor. "And for being here."
***
I pore through work all evening. As usual, Ryan is attempting to bury me in a pile of work. He's willing to do whatever it takes to convince me to sell.
But my irritation fades away when I see an email from Alyssa. She never emails. She barely uses the computer.
Luke,
Why didn't you warn me how fucking sweet you are when we met? Insane, but sweet. How the hell did you get a pour-over to Laurie's place so quickly? You know what--don't tell me. I don't want to know about the freaky drones that ar
e going to take over the world.
The party was as awful as I expected. It would have been easier if you were here--we could have endured the awfulness together--but I understand why you're with Samantha. You care too much, Luke. I'd hate it if I didn't love it so much.
I'll tell you more about Laurie's drunken antics later. God, she was a terror. And she kept me up so late. And, okay, I admit it, I may have drunk two or three too many tequila shots. And maybe I woke up with a head-splitting hangover, and maybe I spent way too much time trying to figure out how far I went over my daily calorie allotment. But she had such good shit.
So, thank you. I really need the coffee today, and OH MY GOD it is so, so much better than the crap Laurie keeps in the freezer. Can you believe how low her coffee standards are? It's one thing to not like coffee. Fine. Plenty of people don't like coffee. But to keep it ground up in the freezer in that stupid plastic tin. It should be illegal to drink such awful coffee.
And before you even start, no, it should not be illegal to put honey in coffee. Honey and coffee are madly in love. Even more than we're in love.
And we are, Luke. I love you so much. But, the scary thing is, I know what my life looks like without you--and it looks like total shit.
I'm so happy with you. I really am. I feel like I'm lighter than air when I'm around you. You're my trigger whenever I need to project love or joy or, obviously, lust.
It's not that I'm not all in. I am. I just need more time. I need to feel like I know who I am. Because you're consuming, and as much as I love that, I can't get consumed again.
I worry I'm going to be like the Alyssa of the past. But I don't want to be her anymore. I want to be strong. I want to be independent. I want to stand on my own.
Because that's how we'll know it's real--if we're together by choice, not out of a lack of better options.
God, I'm rambling. I'm sorry. I'm trying really hard to stay away from reviews, but they're so fucking tempting. And they're all at my fingertips.
Come back soon, okay?
Love,
Alyssa
P.S. If you, for some reason, come back in love with Samantha, I'll take Laurie up on her offer to have you killed. Don't make me complicit in murder. I'll crack on the cross, and I'll be an awful prisoner.
P.P.S. This isn't a threat... more of a hypothetical. For legal reasons, of course.
CHAPTER EIGHT