![]() “I love you and I want you and I wanted you then,” I say to him, “I wanted you so much and I still want you, I want you right now-” He’s shaking his head and he’s looking away from me and his hand is caught in his hair, his body turned toward the table and he says “No. Warner is looking at me like he might be going deaf and blind at the same time. “I was stupid and inconsiderate and I tried to blame it on you and I hurt you, so badly.” I try to breathe. I was confused about Adam, I was confused about who I was supposed to be and I didn’t know what I was doing and I was stupid,” I say. I didn’t want to admit the truth to myself, and I felt so guilty for preferring you, for wanting to spend all my time with you, even when everything was falling apart. When I said I didn’t want to be with you. “I lied to you,” I tell him, words tripping and stumbling out of me. I see the movement in his throat, the effort he’s making to keep still. “I do want you,” I say to him, my voice shaking. But right now my lips wish he would just read my mind because the truth is I’ve been hoping I’d never have to say any of it, these thoughts, out loud. I taste and touch and kiss and I’ve pressed them to the tender parts of his skin and I’ve made promises and told lies and touched lives all with these two lips and the words they form, the shapes and sounds they curve around. I hold my fingers to my mouth, still so afraid to speak. “Right about what?” His green eyes are wide. Things I’ve been too much of a coward to admit, even to myself. There are so many things I need to tell him. I’m suddenly nervous and suddenly worried and suddenly so sure I’m going to do this all wrong but maybe wrong is the only way to do it because I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’m looking into his eyes and I’m suddenly petrified. “Please, Juliette, not tonight, I can’t-” He stops in front of the boardroom table, his back to me, his hands gripping the edge. I follow him across the bedroom and into his office. “Thank you,” he says to no one at all as he walks out the door. ![]() “I’m so sorry,” are the first words I whisper. I am a broken skeleton with a beating heart. I am a pile of bones on the floor and no one knows it but me. He’s sitting in silence, palms up on his lap, looking into his hands like he’s searching for something he cannot find.Įvery vertebra, every knuckle, both kneecaps, both hips. Warner is sitting on the edge of the mattress, his coat thrown on the floor, his boots kicked off to the side. I pad my way through the office carefully, searching for any sign of its owner, and find none. Everything is swimming in an inky sort of black, and it takes me several tries to adjust my eyes to the darkness. When I get off the elevator and step into Warner’s office, all the lights are off.
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