Page 141 of The Long Way Home


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Her head pulls back a bit. Everything I said is true and I mean it — she did fuck over Tom and she fucked me over too. And I’m sure she’ll fucking do it again, but that’s not why I’m saying it all. I’m saying it because I’m reeling.

Try not to let it look like the thought of it all is killing me but it is. And actually, what the fuck, when she left me it was just me and Tom. Ever.

And now that’s five others? Five whole other people? Who’ve seen her and touched her and held her…

And I know I’m being a fucking hypocrite. Seven? That’s not that many people. Could be me on a bad week.

But she’s not like that.

She’s not like me.

At least she wasn’t when she left me…

She’s watching me closely now. Reading me. Seeing how I wear it, this new version of her. It feels like she’s trying to prove to me that she’s less mine than I think she is, but until last night I didn’t know she wanted to still be mine at all. I don’t know what she’s waiting for. Vindication? Chastisement? Judgement? Forgiveness? I give her none of them.

I’ll give her my heart for free in a heartbeat though, if she’ll still take it.

She’s staring straight ahead, breathing like she’s coming off a high, deep and measured winding down. Tired. Wish I could pull her into my lap, let her rest, remind her I’m her safest place. I want to say sorry. Tell her I’m a fuck up and I love her, that I’m done with the games. But I can’t find the words.

She took them back.

I tap her gently and she looks over at me, annoyed.

Summon her with my fingers.

She shakes her head.

Wave her over again.

She rolls her eyes but obliges me this time.

She leans over and as she does I get a rush of endorphins. She’s the greatest drug on the planet. I’ve done them all and I know it for sure.

She lifts her eyebrow, impatient.

I move in closer, whisper, “How’s the weather, Parks?”

And I swear to god, our question does its magic. For a moment, I can see it on her — she forgives me. The inclusions in those gemstone eyes of hers begin to fade and they start clearing back up to flawless. I smile at her, feeling proud of myself for winning her back.

Then it scatters. The emeralds cloud over and her face settles back into anger.

“I told you I love you and you’re asking me about the weather?” she whispers to me. Then she looks me dead in the eye. “Fuck you.”

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