56
Huxley
Val has been packing nonstop today, so it surprises me when I find her sitting on her bed instead of running around. I slide up beside her on the bed. Hopefully, we can enjoy this little moment of calm after her busy day.
“Whatcha doing, Love?”
Her eyes scan a notebook with random things crossed out, and others underlined. “Seeing what else I need to get done before I leave.” She flips the page over and reads another list of items.
I run my fingers gently up and down her arm. “It’s late. Let’s just get some sleep.” After a few hours of her lips on mine first. But in the end, sleep.
She flips the page back and scribbles something in the margin. “I want to make the full list now so I can go over it tomorrow to make sure I don’t forget anything.”
I kiss her shoulder, then set my chin on her to read over her list. Every possible thing you could plan for is written out in her notebook.
Extra clothes in case of bad weather or delay.
Tylenol (in case Will doesn’t have any.)
Band-Aids (in case Will doesn’t have any.)
Chapstick (because Will never has any.)
I’m lucky to pack enough clean shirts, let alone extra shit that might be needed.
“You’re so organized,” I say in awe of her ever-growing list.
“Of course I am. I can’t afford not to be.”
Okay, that I heard. It’s impossible not to hear. I lift my chin off her shoulder and try to look her over, but she keeps her hair over her face as she reads her checklist.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she mumbles, turning the page again.
“You sound angry.”
“I’m just stressed.”
“Then take a break. You’ve been packing all day.” I run my hand over her shoulder to try to relax her, even a little bit, but she shoves me off.
“Can you just stop touching me for one second?” she snaps at me, but her eyes never meet mine.
This isn’t her. She wasn’t herself earlier when she asked me about telling her brother about us. But the way she kissed me afterward convinced me she was okay.
But maybe that’s exactly why she kissed me.
Whatever her reason, it’s clear she isn’t going to talk to me tonight.
“I think I’ll just see you tomorrow.” I push myself from her bed and just make it to the doorway.
“Actually.” I stop but don’t look at her. “I really need to pack and get things figured out.” Her lie makes me grip the doorframe. “Could you just pick me up on Monday?”
“Fine. Whatever.” I leave without looking back.
This is all wrong. Everything that’s been happening since she had that weekend with her friends has been wrong. We don’t mesh like we used to. Whenever I hold her, she’s always distant. And we fight more than we should be. We’re fighting like we did at the beginning.
I know this isn’t real. I know she doesn’t want me.
But this feeling of us being against each other rather than with each other is too much to bear.
I need her in my life, but she’s slipping away.
After she comes back from New York, we’ll fix this.
We have to fix this. Because I can’t survive us not working.