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Her gaze shifts away again. She moves closer, enveloping me in the softest, sweetest hug. "Thank you."
"It's nothing."
She shakes her head. "It's everything."
CHAPTER TWENTY
It's late when we get home. Alyssa rejects my offer to make her dinner, instead insisting on attempting sleep. I cook something anyway and leave her portion in the fridge.
I don't bother trying to sleep. It would be impossible. Instead, I flip through channels. Nothing on TV can pull me from my thoughts. Alyssa is still hurting. I need to do more to take her pain away.
I have an email from Samantha. She's trying to secure a date for a move. She wants to know when I'll be able to clear the house. There's no request for a rush but there's another veiled threat. I need to get out of my parents' house and back to my life as soon as possible if I ever want to get better.
I'm dizzy again. But it's late, early really, and it was a long day. I know this food challenge is supposed to be a good thing, progress of some kind, but it feels like Alyssa is a million miles away.
It's almost eight when Alyssa wakes. The sun is already in the sky and it's casting a soft glow over the house.
She plops next to me, wrapping her arms around me.
I inhale the sensation of her--the warmth of her body, the smell of her hair, the feeling of calm she inspires in me.
She leans closer, her mouth hovering over my ear. "I know I'm a fucked up mess, but don't leave. Please don't leave."
"You're my mess."
She squeezes me tighter.
It would be nice, holding her so much in one day, if the circumstances were different. No, it's still nice. It still feels like home.
She shifts and brings her gaze to mine. "You're upset, aren't you?"
"Yes, but it has nothing to do with you."
"What is it?" she asks.
"Let's talk about it later."
She stares at the sliding doors. "Is it important?"
"Yeah," I say. "But we're both tired, and it can wait until after you've had five lattes and I've had five cups of tea."
"What is it?" she asks. She looks at me sincerely. Like she's all the way back here.
"We can talk about it later."
Light streams through those sliding doors, bringing soft highlights to her face. "Why are you the only one who ever gets to have any secrets?"
"Ally, it's not like that."
"Okay. What is it like?"
She looks so sad and small. No, that's not quite it. She's tired. Exhausted. She's got no reserves left. No fight left.
I can't unload this on her now. She needs to rest.
"I'm too tired for this conversation," I say.
"That doesn't sound like you."
