CHAPTER ELEVEN
Lynn
Are you there? – Lynn
I hit send and stare at the tiny screen, waiting for three bouncing dots that will never come.
“Stupid phone,” I mumble, even though I know damn well the phone isn’t what’s eating me.
I lean back against the sofa cushions and stare at the ceiling, holding the phone against my stomach. This is a mistake. A horrible mistake.
The phone buzzes. I jerk and immediately flip it open.
Something wrong? – Brian
My relief immediately tangles with irritation. Of course, why else would I text him unless my life was falling apart.
Why does something always have to be wrong? – Lynn
I regret it as soon as I hit send. I’m so tired of the arguing, the poking at each other. I have all this pent up energy, and he’s the only one I can seem to focus it on.
The phone buzzes again, and I’m almost afraid to look. Afraid of the argument that will ensue, the things we’ll say to each other that cause pain instead of healing.
I’m listening. – Brian
I read it twice. A tiny little thrill pokes through the tightness in my chest. Just as quickly, that tightness moves to my throat, and I tear up.
Why do things have to be so complicated? – Lynn
I stare at the screen after I send it, my heart beating harder with every second that passes. And then he comes back with the one thing I know in my heart, but wish so badly he didn’t think about me.
Because you make everything complicated. – Brian
“Asshole,” I mutter, my thumbs already shuffling across the keyboard when another message comes through.
So do I. – Brian
My heart thuds an exaggerated pause, and some of the fight drains out of my body. I pull my knees against my chest and stare at the phone before slowly clicking out another message.
I feel like I can’t do anything right around you. – Lynn
This time his response takes longer, and the wait kills me.
You push me away when I’m trying to help you. – Brian
My throat tightens. I want to argue, tell him that’s not true. Except there’s enough truth to it that I can’t bring myself to type the words.
Every time he shows up, I’m already embarrassed. Already angry with myself. And he’s right there with a front-row seat to whatever disaster I’ve created. Being mad at him is easier than admitting how much I hate him seeing me that way.
I wish I weren’t such a screw up. – Lynn
I know. – Brian
“Hey.” I roll my eyes and type.
You’re supposed to say I’m not a screw up. – Lynn
His reply comes almost immediately.
You screw up but you aren’t a screw up. – Brian
A laugh bursts out of me, wet and ridiculous, with tears clinging to my lashes. I wipe beneath my eyes with the heel of my hand. A smear of day-old mascara smudges my hand.
Doesn’t change what I think of you. – Brian
My breath catches.
What do you think of me? – Lynn
I wait. And wait.
Thought I was the one listening. – Brian
I laugh again and shake my head. He’s not going to make this easy for me. Then again, I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to hear his honest answer. Better by text than in person, though. At least he can’t see my humiliation this way.
We shouldn’t have taken things so far in the truck. – Lynn
The wait time is excruciating.
Probably not. – Brian
My stomach sinks. He regrets it. I wish I could take my text back and erase the entire conversation.
Shouldn’t have stopped either. – Brian
Heat rushes through me so quickly that I have to press my lips together to keep from smiling. Hope is a dangerous thing when it can be taken away in a heartbeat.
I lower the phone and let my head fall against the back of the sofa. The knot sitting in my chest doesn’t feel quite so heavy. We’re probably still going to argue. He’ll still drive me crazy. He’ll still show up on my worst days.
And maybe that’s the point. Showing up when we need each other.
I bring the phone back up and start clicking. My pulse thumps against my throat. I stare at the message for a hot minute before hitting send.
I said if I needed you, I’d ask. Well, I’m asking. – Lynn
The seconds crawl past, and nothing. I swallow and stare at the screen. Maybe I waited too long. Maybe after years of pushing him away, he finally decided to listen. Maybe—
The phone buzzes.
Open the door. – Brian