Fill Me (Rouse Me 3)

I nod. "Can I say one thing?"

"Can I stop you?"

"I love you. And I promise I'm not trying to get rid of you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. If I could, I'd stay in New York for every minute that you're here."

She smiles and kisses me on the cheek. "I love you too." She steps into the shower, shutting the door behind her.

I hate this. I really want to respect Alyssa's wishes, to give her time to think when she needs it, but I fucking hate it. Why did I convince her to take the part? I could have been selfish. I could have asked her to stay with me, then felt guilty every day I failed get home by six. I could have stayed up half the night worrying she would resent me.

I will respect Alyssa's wishes. I won't try and make her talk.

But, if she really wants to clear her head, there's a much better way to do it.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Alyssa

Can I do this?

Can I really fucking do this?

The hot water pounding on my back does nothing to relax me. I try and take a deep breath, but it feels rough and shallow.

I need to be stopped. I'm acting like a child, pushing my boyfriend away because I'm scared.

He's trying to help. It's not his fault I'm so incapable of expressing my feelings.

I'm terrified to do this alone. I'm terrified to be without you for six days. And you want me to do six months? I can't do it. It's inconceivable. You're my life raft, the only thing that keeps me from drowning. I can't do this without you. I can barely function without you.

I hate it, but I can barely function without you.

Don't leave. Stay. Say fuck the business and stay. Or ask me to change my mind. Ask me to stay with you in Los Angeles. Please. Don't leave me here in New York alone. Don't make me try and do this alone.

I should have put my foot down. I should have made no my final answer. Yes, I want to be in this play. And it's a great opportunity. It might be one of the best things I'll ever do.

But it's still too hard to do it without him.

I lean my head back, letting the water soak my hair. It's just the shower. Just a little pouring water. But what if the water never stops? What if this bathroom fills and I can't get out and I drown here?

I shake my head. This is ridiculous. I need to calm down. This is a lot all at once, but I can do it. I can enjoy the next twenty-four hours.

Twenty-four hours with Luke, twenty-four hours until he's gone, and I'm here all by myself.

I repeat my mantra, a cheesy new age therapy technique. I will keep my head up and my heart open. I whisper it three times, taking a deep breath between each. It's silly, but I feel a little calmer.

Maybe I can do this.

I close my eyes and listen to the water pounding my neck. It's warm and hard and steady. I will keep my head up and my heart open.

I will talk to Luke.

I won't lock him out.

But not now, not yet, not until I have a handle on this.