“He’s a jerk,” I declare, pouting.
“Let him go to hell.” I shift up on the mattress, pressing my back against the cushions.
Bruno gives a low bark.
“Yes, Bruno. Repeat after me: He. Is. A. Jerk.”
Bruno barks again.
I chuckle, sliding down on the mattress to hug him close.
There are snakes everywhere. I’m standing in the forest, screaming for help, but no one comes. They’re getting closer, each one bigger than me. One of them launches itself at my throat. I cry out.
My eyes snap open. I’m gasping, drenched in sweat. I usually get dreams like this when I sleep in a bad mood.
I shift onto my back and close my eyes again, but then I hear it. A low voice. Someone’s suppressed sobs.
My eyes fly open. I sit up in bed.
On the couch in front of me, he’s sleeping.
I get up and walk toward him. His jaw is clenched tight, his face contorted in pain. As I move closer, I see tears covering his face.
I quickly kneel beside him on the floor and brush the tears from his temples.
“Wake up,” I urge, holding his face.
I cradle his jaw in my palms, caressing his cheek. The stubble is rough under my thumbs.
His eyes open. Tears pool in his bloodshot eyes; a fresh stream falls from them. I wipe it away with my thumb without releasing his face.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispers, his voice fractured with pain.
My own eyes burn at the sight of him like this.
“I wo—” He doesn’t let me finish.
He sits up abruptly, doesn’t even glance my way, just gets up and leaves.
I watch his tired, lonely back retreating.
I collapse onto the floor, staring at the empty doorway.
He pulls me closer, but when I lean in—attempting to kiss him—he pulls away. Then, after I fall asleep, he comes back and sleeps on the couch. When I try to comfort him, he pushes me away.
What am I supposedto make of any of this?
Chapter 17
Salvario
I get out of bed.
It’s not working.
I walk out of my room.
I tried.
