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He jumps in front of me, and now he towers over me. “Are your defenses up so much you think Mikey slept at all after your cryptic text. Or that Jeff, who was at the bar, isn’t totally freaked out. Jerrod and Vanessa refuse to work until we find you. And Nanette’s a freaking mess. She blames herself. My neighbors, who saw you leave, are worried.”

“Shit. I didn’t think.”

“Damn fucking right, you didn’t think. I’m pissed off about so many fucking things they keep spilling out of me.”

“I know. Me too. But I’m terribly sorry I put everyone through worry. But you do understand, right?”

He throws his hands up in the air. “I don’t. I’m trying, but I guarantee they won’t get this disappearing act. If you’d told Mikey you were going dark, no police reports would’ve been filed.”

“You filed a report?!”

“Not in Philly. LA’s a different story. I talked to your dad before it got to that. Sitting in your Philly row house, I tried to think like you and realized you wouldn’t go far from me. Because I would’ve gone just far enough to sort things out or prepare my argument. I remembered you told me when you or your brother were little and upset, you’d run away from home together. Finding him was harder. Your father and Joan were of zero help. They’re pissed at me. I started googling Alan McGuires.”

“I told Joan and my dad, I needed space. How did you get into my house?”

He holds up my keys with the daisy key chain he gave me on our first night. “You left these at my house.”

“Your house. See!” I point into his chest. He shakes his head at me.

The hour drive home is quiet. We hold hands, and I look out the window. His touch not quite healing me. My touch not quite complete. I text people. I’m sorry, and I’m ok. We arrive back at his house, and we still haven’t spoken. Before I get out, he yanks my hand and my attention to him. My eyes are wet with tears I won’t let fall. He places a hand on my cheek. We stare at each other. I feel the same way about this car that I felt about the shower in Punta Mita. Whatever’s outside of this safe space will change me forever, again. I don’t think I’m going to be as lucky this time.

I jump in the shower. I can’t stand the smell of me. When I emerge, I think I can be diplomatic again, and maybe this will all end lovely. But just in case I stash my clothes into a duffle bag and grab my already packed suitcase. I was heading out to tour again. Now, the bag takes on a different meaning. I put the bags down by the door and head back upstairs. He’s no where to be found at the moment.

I brush my wet hair and pull it into a giant top knot. Alex looks like shit after running all over the country for me. The things I’ve been pushing down threaten to make an appearance. I’m not sure I can hold anything back.

I tentatively descend the stairs. He’s straddling the couch arm, and I sink into the big chair in the corner where I like to read. There’s a glass of Chardonnay waiting and a bourbon in his hand.

“I’m completely in love with you,” he says while his voice cracks.

“And I you.”

61

Alex

As terrified as I was of losing her, over the past six days, when I was unable to find her, I’m more terrified of the ugliness that’s going to erupt from my mouth right now. I was in panic mode, but now I’m calm. There’s been a shift. I don’t know when it happened, but clear things are muddy as hell now.

I speak again, “Why do we feel guilty spending time with other people?” She opens her mouth, and I flick my wrist at her. I’m not done. “I can’t alter my whole life for you, and that’s what you’re asking. You’re asking me to compromise where I go and with whom. You rearrange my furniture, buy new pillows and garlic powder. Just use garlic. And then you show up where I’m drinking like I’m on the shortest fucking leash. Then your stupid ass stunt, tugging on my already short leash like a choke chain.” I don’t know what she wants.

She shifts in her chair. “I was there first, not following you. I texted you a prelude to sex, and you put me back in your pocket to talk to other women. How often does that happen?”

“None of your fucking business how often I go out with colleagues. We didn’t have plans. I didn’t miss anything important at home, right?”

“Can we tackle this first? Why did you ignore me?”

“I meant to text you back. And then we got to—”

“Hitting on the other women.”

I raise an eyebrow and cross my arms. She can’t think I’d cheat. “They were already there. Give me a little credit. They work for HBO. Although I did go out drinking, I was working. Trust me on this.”

There’s an edge to her voice as she says, “How? You lied to me. I lied to you. We don’t know the limits of that.”

I cross the room and kneel, placing my hands on her knees. “That’s something I wouldn’t do. Ever. Not to you.”

Her lip trembles. “I believed you couldn’t lie to me.”

I stand and turn from her. “While you were lying to me.” I make sure she knows it takes two to tango. “You told me you were writing, and you were drinking with Nanette and some dude.”