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Once she’s back, she hops underthe covers on the side of the bed that’s far from me. That’sprobably for the best.
“Goodnight,” she says and turnsoff the light.
“Goodnight.”
It’s snowing outside. There isonly a faint light from the parking lot.
I lie in the dark for what feelslike a long time, listening to Roxie’s breathing. I expect it tobecome slow and deep, but it doesn’t.
She’s still awake.
“Chris?”
“Mm?”
“Are you sleepy?”
“Not really.”
“Don’t turn on the light.”
“Okay.”
I hear her getting up, traversingthe short distance between our beds, and sliding under my sheets.She puts her head on my bicep, and her hand on my chest.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
“Yes.” My heart pounds under herpalm.
She lets out a deep sigh as shesettles. She moves her hand from my chest to my face and lightlyscratches my jaw with her short nails.
“Thank you so much for coming withme,” she says. “It means a lot.”
“My pleasure.”
“And for the record, I didn’tblock your number.”
“So you’ve received all mytexts?”
“Mhm.”
“Roxie, I’m so, so sorry. You haveno idea how much.” I try to lift her chin up, but she pushes down.She doesn’t want to kiss me. The pain of realization is sharp, likea stab.
“Why did you have to ruineverything?” she says. “I was so happy. I thought we werehappy. Why did you have to blow it all up?” There’s an undercurrentof despair in her voice.
“I’ve been seeing someone…” Isay.
She stiffens.
“Not like that. I mean, I’ve beenseeing a therapist. Since you and I broke up.”
“Oh.” I feel her relax.
“I’ve got a lot of work ahead, butI think I can tell you a bit of what I’ve figured out might’vehappened.”
“Okay.”
“It’s not going to be pretty. Butit will be honest.”
