But there is none. There is just us.
Finally, Sabin chooses, and his mouth moves in a fraction more.
I still can’t move. I still can’t react. This feels perfectly right and so horribly wrong.
“Sabe,” I whisper.
He pounds the doorframe above me and sharply pulls away. “No! No! Chris has done everything for me, and I don’t deserve any of it, so I cannot be in love with you. I won’t.”
Sabin backs away from me, his face showing that he is as stunned and confused by what is transpiring as I am.
“Please don’t go,” I say. “Please. Let’s just…let’s just…”
“What?” he demands as he continues to walk away. “Figure this out? How? Oh God, this is fucked. This is fucked.” He shakes his head and gives me the most heartbreaking look. “I can’t do this. I have to leave. I’m so sorry. I have to leave.”
The door slams behind him, and I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle the sobs. Finally, my knees give out, and I sink to the floor.
I’m going to lose him, I can tell, and I don’t know how to stop that from happening because I am so mixed up. It’s been a long time since my thoughts have been so convoluted, so impossible to get a handle on, and I don’t want to be back in that place.
My world is coming undone.
Earthquakes are the least of my problems.
I barely get out of bed the next day. I’m a walking zombie, unfocused, teary, my mind ringing with torment. Disappearing into depression is easy for me. I know how to do this all too well. Sheltering myself under the covers, shutting out the world—I can do that really well. I’m a fucking expert.
So, I do.
I don’t bother with trying to call Sabin because I know he won’t answer. I’m sure he’s spiraling the way I am.
Chris calls repeatedly, and I answer and immediately hang up on every call.
Finally, when the sky just begins to darken, I answer just to make him stop.
“What?” I’m almost too tired to even say that one word.
“Blythe,” he says softly, “what is going on?”
I close my eyes. “You’re the one carrying your wedding invitation around. You tell me.”
“I was afraid of that. I found your note. You can’t possibly think that anything is wrong with us?”
“I can think whatever I want. Leave me alone.” I hang up and turn off the ringer.
The phone flashes to show that he’s calling back, but I ignore it.
Then, he texts me.
Chris: Please don’t be upset. There’s no reason to be. I’ll explain it to you, but we’re not doing this over text. Either pick up the phone, or we can talk when I get back.
I don’t have the energy to reply. My heart is too shattered—because of him, because of Sabin.
The ceiling fan takes me into a trance, and I stare at it minute after minute until the sky is black and until I hear music. I should find it odd that the ceiling fan is making music, but I just listen. It’s beautiful, and it lulls me into some kind of resemblance of peace. I let myself drown and be engulfed in it. Minutes tick by, and I don’t question how long I’ve been buried under the sheets.
Only then, Sabin’s voice cuts through my delusion. It’shismusic, I realize, coming from outside. It’s barely audible, but that voice is like no other. So, I lift myself from the bed and stand by the open window. There’s just enough moonlight that I can make him out. I would know him from any distance—the shape of him, the way he moves, the character he exudes. His entire being is so distinctive to me that I could pick him out of a crowd of a million.
I laugh at myself.I would know him from any distance.I’ve thought that about only one other person, Christopher, and right now, my ties to both of them are fucked up.
The walk from the bedroom out to the deck feels endless, but I make it. I can’t imagine what he’s doing here when he abandoned our last scene so quickly. Based on the dying campfire he’s sitting next to, apparently, he’s been here for a while.
