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I laugh again, but it's heavy in my chest. "Can we drink coffee and not talk about Luke all day?"
She nods. "Whatever you want."
***
Laurie coddles me the entire trip. She sits with me at little cafés, trying hard not to roll her eyes when I order my thirteenth cup of coffee.
We don't do any amazing Hawaii things. There's no scuba diving, no happy hour cruises, no romantic dinners under the stars.
We eat, we drink, we talk about anything except Luke. Absolutely anything except Luke.
But the weight of it grows in my chest, refusing to be pushed away.
On the last night here, I pack alone. There isn't much that matters here. Clothes. Only clothes. I sit on the balcony, staring at the waves, trying not to replay the moment where everything broke into a million little pieces.
It's another warm, humid night and there's something so refreshing about the light breeze. Laurie joins me on the balcony with two forty milliliter bottles of amaretto.
She hands one to me. "We need to toast."
I unscrew the cap. "I'm not in a toasting mood."
"Too bad," she says. Her voice is demanding and eager, as usual. She raises her glass, trying to catch my gaze. "To everything working out."
I groan, but I gladly tilt my head back to suck down the bottle of liquor. Damn, the sweet taste of licorice coats my tongue and throat.
It's the kind of thing Luke would drink.
The heaviness builds in my chest. I blink back a tear.
Laurie offers her hand. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"I miss him so much already," I say. I press my fingers into my thighs. This whole thing makes me dizzy. I don't know what he wants, what I want, what the hell I'm going to do here.
"Do you think it's really over?" she asks. She looks at me with concern.
"Maybe," I say. I shake my head to keep from crying. Not anymore. I can't take it. I hold Laurie's gaze. "He's trying to protect me."
"From what--too many great orgasms?"
"You're a pervert," I say. It almost hurts to smile, but I can't help it. I swallow the lump in my throat. "He said something about how he doesn't make me happy."
"Oh." Her voice lowers, like she sees the merit in this horrible idea.
"You really think..." I bite my lip. I can't keep hiding from this. I have to confront it. "Do you really think he's right?"
"There is a lot of conflict between you two." She adjusts her glasses, looking towards the beach. "Damn, this is a baller view."
"You're both wrong," I say. "I've never been as happy as I am with him."
"Did you tell him that?"
I shake my head. Of course not. That's been the whole problem all along.
"Maybe, if you talk to him, if you really tell him how you feel... maybe you'll work it out," she says.
I nod.
"But Alyssa, you're going to have to do a lot better than what you just told me. You're going to have to really open up, to really let him see inside your brain."
