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“Nothing. No good news. I have to get back to work.” I shove away from the picnic table and walk back around the building. Leaning by the door, I finish my second cigarette, hoping to God my mood levels out some before I go back in there. The last thing I need is to get my ass beat by a bunch of bikers.
Over the next week, Alissa seems to be growing more distant. She sits in the bedroom while we have band practice in the living room. She’s often asleep by the time that I make it to bed. And instead of waiting around in the morning so we can have breakfast together, she leaves early for work, claiming she wants extra hours.
At work, she’s too busy to talk to me, and our breaks are rarely at the same time. On the off chance we actually do get to talk, she blows off every question I ask her. She won’t admit to being mad at me, even though I have no idea what she could be mad about. I can’t get her to tell me what’s going on with her either. She’s always quiet and looks deep in thought. The spark in her usually brilliant blue eyes seems dulled and filled with sadness.
Her weird behavior has me on edge. I constantly worry she’s going to leave me. I haven’t gotten up the courage to ask though. I’m too afraid of her answer. So instead of asking, I just sit back and wait to see what happens.
It’s Saturday night again, and as we’re getting dressed to head to the bar, I can’t hold it in any longer. I sit on the edge of the bed, pulling on my shoes when I finally break the silence.
“Would you tell me what the fuck’s going on with you?”
She spins around after pulling her black tank top on. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve been acting weird all week. Are you mad at me or something? What did I do?”
Her shoulders slump, and her eyes fall to the floor. “No, I’m not mad at you. You didn’t do anything.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s nothing.”
I stand and walk across the room, standing directly in front of her, but I don’t touch her. I’m almost afraid to. I feel like if I reach out and touch her, she’ll vanish, like she’s just a mirage that’s not really here at all.
“Tell me. I know when you’re not acting like yourself. This past week, you’ve been withdrawn, quiet. You leave for work before me. You refuse to take a break at the same time as me. And you’re asleep before band practice is even over. I know something’s going on with you.”
She closes the distance between us, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her head against my chest. “I love you, Dane.”
I tangle my fingers in her hair and tilt her head back so she’s looking at me. “I love you too, and I want to know that you’re okay — that we’re okay.”
She smiles sadly at me. “I’m fine. Now let’s go before we’re late.” She gives me a quick kiss before pulling away and walking from the bedroom.
Instead of feeling reassured, I feel worse. My heart notices the lack of assurance that we’re okay. Like the end is drawing near, and that scares the shit out of me. I’ve given up everything for her. I work myself to death to pay for this house I got for her, so she wouldn’t have to live with constant abuse. I’m not expecting anything but love from her. Yet, it feels like she’s pulling away from me. What did I do wrong? Maybe I haven’t given her enough attention lately. With the band practicing every night and every Saturday night being occupied by gigs, we haven’t really had much time together.
Maybe that’s all she needs. Just a little alone time, so I can show her how much she means to me, how much I love her. She’s been pushed to the back burner unintentionally lately. I’ve been so busy trying to make money, that I didn’t even realize a space is growing between us.
I decide it’ll just be me and her tomorrow. Instead of lying around the house, I’m going to take her out. We can spend the day on the ocean where nobody can get to us. I’ll pack a lunch. We can eat on the boat, and cuddle, dance, fish, whatever she wants to do. Just something to show her I haven’t forgotten about her, that she’s still it for me.
I grab my keys and head toward the front door, so we can make it to the show on time.
When we arrive at the bar, the place is crowded. I have to squeeze through groups of people just to make it to the stage to set up.
After the stage is set, I go to the bar to grab a drink. Dad hands me a bottle of water and nods toward his office. “Come here. I have something for you.”
I take a long drink of my water, then walk around the bar and meet him in the office. He shuts the door, shutting out the loud crowd out on the floor.
He reaches into his pocket and holds out a little black box.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking the box and opening it to find a diamond ring.
“That was the ring I bought for your mother. I want you to have it — for Alissa.”
I look from him to the ring and back. “I don’t understand. I thought you didn’t approve of this.”
He shrugs. “I don’t, but then I got to thinking. My dad didn’t approve either, and I did it anyway. If I would’ve listened to him, I wouldn’t have you and Mason right now. Only you know what you want in life.”
The corners of my mouth draw up into a smile. “Thanks, Dad.” I reach out and give him a hug. “This…” I look down at the ring, before continuing, “it means a lot. I don’t know what to say.”
“Then don’t say anything.” He smiles widely and pats me on the back before opening the door.
