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"Because of Ryan?"
"Because of a lot of things." She takes another deep breath. "This is so much harder when you're not here."
"Pretend I am."
"I just shook my head, but you can't see that. It's not the same. It never is."
She's right. It's not the same. It never is. "Go to the bedroom and wrap your arms around a pillow like you're hugging me."
"That's ridiculous."
"Less ridiculous that what you'll be doing later."
A tiny sigh escapes her lips. Damn. I bet she's flushed and nervous, that adorable blush across her cheeks.
"Don't give me ideas," she says. There are some noises from the phone, movement or something. Perhaps she's actually hugging that pillow. "You get so excited about these things. About an engagement and a wedding. And you're so fucking sexy when you're excited too. It feels like I'd crush you if I told you things aren't perfect."
"Knowing how you feel could never crush me."
"Okay." She lets out a tiny sigh. "I'm not sure if I'm ready."
My muscles tighten. She's not sure if she's ready. That's normal. Hell, I should have expected it. But that does nothing to make me hate it less, and it certainly doesn't help the tension building in my neck.
"Okay," I say.
"Luke, I know it's not okay."
"If this is too fast for you, I'll slow down. We don't have to set a date. We don't have to plan anything. You'll be ready for it eventually."
There's a long moment of silence. "What if I'm not?"
"How did you feel when I proposed? Right in that moment?"
"Excited."
There's a hint of fear in her voice. She's still trying not to disappoint me.
"You've got to stop this, Ally. Stop this fear of hurting me. Sure, I don't like that you're terrified, but I want to know, so we can work through it together."
"It's not that easy." Her tone is sharp now. Annoyed.
"You're right. I'll remind you a million times if I have to. I want to know everything about you, no matter how ugly you think it is, no matter how much it might hurt me. Because it's going to hurt a million times worse if you keep it from me."
"I'm terrified," she says, her voice weak and small. "I'm terrified I'll disappear again. Because, once again, I'm not doing all that well without you."
I start to protest--she's living by herself while working in an incredibly demanding field--but that's exactly the type of thing that makes her recoil. I have to listen.
"Why do you feel like that?" I ask.
"It's getting harder for me to hold on to everything. I'm tempted to drown out my thoughts any way I know how."
"What kinds of thoughts?"
She exhales into the phone. "Thoughts that I'll fail, ruin what we have, nosedive in my career. Something awful. Or that you..." Her voice gets smaller, weaker.
"You can tell me."
"Okay." She sucks the air back into her lungs. "That you'll keep wanting more from me, and I'll keep failing to deliver."
