I had a headache
on our third evening there. Ross wanted to take a walk. I lay on the tatami
mat, waving him away. He forgot his phone – I couldn’t track him. I couldn’t
reach him. There was no reaching him, no knowing when he would return.
Minutes were glacial, seconds agonizing. What was he doing and who was he doing it with? And why didn’t I trust him? Why?
I don’t know how
long it took for him to come back. I’d ducked and dived in and out of sleep,
trying to flee the pain of body and mind. While awake I longed to be unconscious;
in dreams I clawed my way out of slumber.
When he walked in, I was mostly out. I heard his feet on the landing, the key in the door. He looked so fucking happy to see me that I had no other choice but to spring.
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