Текст книги "The Girl Of Diamonds and Rust"

Автор книги: Susan Ward

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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

CHAPTER TWO

A soft rap on the front door brings me awake and I open my eyes. I slowly sit up on the couch, pausing a moment to take a deep breath, and then rise to my feet praying that the change of position doesn’t make me start throwing up again.

Damn, why does every little movement of my body make me vomit today?

Feeling that nagging warning in my stomach, I swallow hard and fumble to unlatch the door. I open it and somehow manage a smile. “Hey Mr. Next-Big-Thing, welcome back to Berkeley.”

Neil’s warm green eyes claim me like a gentle hold and he laughs, shaking his head at me. “Next big thing, huh?”

I stare up at him, wondering if he’ll kiss me, and I can feel that my eyes are sparkly in that way they get when I’m really happy. Neil gazes down at me, neither of us move, and belatedly I note that it was my turn to talk and I didn’t.

I flush and say quickly, “Yep, you are Mr. Next-Big-Thing. I saw you on TV a few days ago, and that’s what the interviewer said before they cut away, that the buzz is you’re definitely going to be the next big thing.”

Neil gives me a pained, sweetly exasperated look. “That’s Ernie Levine’s publicity machine. You know how managers are. It’s just bullshit, Chrissie. I’m more like Mr. broke, tired, glad to be off the road, and really glad to see you kind of a thing.”

I laugh. “I’m glad to see you, too.”

Neil relaxes casually against the doorframe, his green eyes twinkling in an oh-so-Neil impish way. He touches my cheek and says, “That’s probably because Rene is giving you shit about when my stuff will be out of here.”

“She is not. She’s going to be thrilled when she gets back from class and finds you here.” I tilt my head toward the living room. “Come on in.”

Neil ambles into the living room as I close the door and re-attach the chain. He stares at the disorderly room, and his laughter comes loudly this time as his chestnut waves dance on his shoulders when he shakes his head.

He turns to smile at me. “Rene is going to be thrilled? Is that why there are boxes stacked floor to ceiling against the wall?”

I scrunch up my nose, making a face at him. “Those aren’t for you. We move out next month. You know Rene and her lists and her hyper-organized tendencies. She made us start packing a week ago.”

“Yep, that definitely sounds like Rene.”

Neil sinks down on the couch and I settle close beside him, legs bent beneath me, my bottom resting on my heels.

“So how long are you staying in Berkeley?” I ask.

“Don’t worry. I’m leaving in the morning,” Neil teases.

He says that in the familiar tone we banter with, but for some reason it makes cold needlelike pricks run the surface of my flesh. “You can stay as long as you want.”

Neil’s expression changes and the smile leaves his face. He gives me a sharp once-over and frowns. “Are you OK, Chrissie?”

I nod. “I’m great.”

“Well, you don’t sound great.” His frown lowers and it looks like he’s seeing me more thoroughly and not liking what he sees. Inwardly, I cringe, and then he says, “And you don’t exactly look great either. In fact, you look really not good, Chrissie.”

I flush and give him a pointed stare as I anxiously straighten my frumpy, oversized Cal sweats. “Thanks a lot. I’ve been throwing up all day. I think I ate something bad last night.”

He crinkles his nose. “Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said that, right? Not one of my swifter comments.”

“Definitely, not one of your swifter comments. I didn’t feel like getting dressed today, but it’s nothing. Food poisoning.”

He grimaces and then asks, “Do you need me to get you anything? Do you want me to make you some tea? That might be good in your stomach if you have a touch of food poisoning.”

I shake my head, though Neil’s wanting to try to help me is unexpected and overwhelming. Even after everything that’s happened between us, he is still kind and caring Neil. How stupid I was to worry even for a minute that he would make this terrible for me.

“I’m OK, Neil. You don’t need to make me tea. It’s not that bad right now. I’ll be better by morning.”

He looks relieved and smiles. “Do you want me to come back tomorrow to get my junk? You look like you’re feeling pretty lousy. If you need to rest, I’ll get out of your way.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer and starts to rise from the couch. I grab his arm. “No. Don’t leave. I’m fine. It’s not that bad. I thought you were going to stay here tonight, hang out so we could catch up.”

His eyes widen and he looks surprised.

“Really? I thought you wouldn’t want me here so I planned on grabbing a couch at a friend’s in the city.”

For some reason I’m unexpectedly hurt by that. We parted in a good place. Still friends. Didn’t we?

“Well, I thought you were going to grab my couch,” I counter quietly. Something in how he looks at me makes me anxious and sad. I add, “I really want you to stay here, Neil.”

I can feel him watching me in that way he has when he’s trying to make sense of me. A few seconds pass. He sinks back down on the couch.

“Thanks, Chrissie. If you are sure you feel up to it and you’re cool with it, I would really like to stay here tonight.”

“Good.”

Neil sighs, closes his eyes and lays his head back against the couch. “Fuck, it feels good to be here. It’s quiet here. I can breathe. I’ll probably be terrible company tonight. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

My anxiety fades and I take in more detail of him. He definitely looks exhausted. Neil is such a gorgeous guy—tanned skin; tall, long, lean-muscled body; messy sun-streaked shoulder-length chestnut waves framing a strongly featured face with brilliant green eyes—I often miss details, like the fatigue lines beneath his eyes and around his lips.

“You look really tired, Neil. Was it awful out on the road this time? You didn’t make it sound awful whenever we talked on the phone. You always sounded really good. Happy. ”

Neil chuckles in a tired, loose way. “Worst four months of my life, ever. Trust me, Chrissie, it was miserable every day. The larger the venues, the more shit. Everything went wrong that could go wrong from the first day out of Seattle. And the fucking band fought almost the entire time. The minute things start to go good everyone goes crazy.”

His eyes open and I make a pout of sympathy.

He reaches out to lightly touch my cheek. “It feels good to be here with you. I missed you so much, Chrissie. I kept thinking about you. What I did wrong. I know I fucked up. Why you dumped me. I get it.”

“You didn’t fuck up,” I say contritely, guilt flooding my digestive track. “And I didn’t dump you. We are just going in different directions and it didn’t seem fair to you or to me for us to try to stay together. It was the right thing for us both, Neil.”

His eyes burn into me, and the heat increases across my cheeks.

“No, Chrissie. It wasn’t the right thing for me. Not by a long shot. You always thought I was joking when I asked, but I really did think we’d end up married someday.”

“I thought you weren’t going to do this, Neil.”

He runs a hand through his hair in an aggravated way. He looks impatient and annoyed with himself. “You’re right. Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

I stare down at my fingers, digging into my knees. “I’m not someplace where I can even think about us. I just want to hang out. Keep everything light. I could really use that, Neil. OK?”

“I said I won’t do it again,” Neil counters, and I can’t tell if he’s irritated with me or himself.

This moment just got extremely awkward, to the point of feeling almost smothering, and I’m starting to feel really badly when the front door opens with enough force to hit the wall with a boom. We both turn to look as Rene pauses in the doorway, hands on hips encased in too-short Cal shorts, her pretty face awash with pretend irritation.

“When the hell did you get back?”

Neil laughs, pulling his body away from me to settle with more space between us on the couch.

“About twenty minutes ago. How ya doing, Rene?” he says, amused.

Rene closes the door and crosses the room in a flurry, dropping down on the couch on the vacant spot beside Neil. I watch her lean in to give him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and their easy closeness gives me a sharp stab in my stomach. They hated each other when Neil first moved into the condo, and now they are more comfortable as friends than I am with Neil.

Rene’s pretty face fills with a dazzling smile. “Really. How long are you staying?”

“A day. Maybe two…” He makes a face in my direction. “…or I might just stay until Chrissie kicks me out.”

They laugh, and I fight not to let show how much that jab hurt me. Neil was only teasing, messing with me like he likes to do, but I still feel badly about how I treated Neil. I miss him more than I ever thought I would, and every lighthearted taunt seems to hold an edge and bite today.

Rene taps Neil on the chest with an index finger. “I’ve got plans tonight, but your ass is mine in the morning. I don’t have class until noon. Why don’t we go out, grab some breakfast, kick around Berkeley for a while?”

“Deal,” Neil says as Rene springs up from the couch. He follows her with his eyes until she disappears into her bedroom and then turns to give me a heavily exasperated look. “I will never get used to it when Rene is being nice.”

“I told you she would be glad you’re here.”

His expression changes and something about his eyes makes me tense. “Are you glad I’m here or is this hard for you? I can’t quite figure out what I’m feeling from you.”

Crap. I take in a deep breath to steady myself. “I’m just going through some stuff, Neil. It’s no big deal. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. I’m really happy you’re here. It’s just me. OK?”

Neil leans into me, his eyes filled with concern. “Anything serious?”

I struggle to hold back my words. For some reason, the second Neil walked through my door the urge to blurt out my problems to him has been almost overpowering.

I shift my gaze away from his. “Nothing serious. I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want ruin you being here with my lame drama.”

He lifts my chin so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. “Lame drama, huh? Nope, not buying it, Chrissie. Tell me what’s wrong. I can tell when something is pretty fucked in your world. I’ll help however I can.”

When I don’t answer him, Neil shakes his head, exasperated, and pulls me against him.

“God, you’re really frustrating at times. Most girls can’t wait to tell you their shit, and it’s like pulling teeth to get you to say anything about anything even when I ask you to.”

I roll my eyes, and try to manage a don’t make a big deal of this kind of face. “I’m just fucked up that way.”

“You’re not fucked up in any way.” He lets out a long, sort of angry exhale of breath. “I hate that you say that about yourself. I’d like to kick the shit out of whoever said that to you and made you believe it.”

I can feel my eyes start to burn with tears and I don’t want them to. I don’t know how he can think I’m not a fucked-up girl after how I treated him, but then Neil has never known me the way Alan does. It was Alan who said that to me—you’re a pretty fucked-up girl—but he said it for a good reason, to try to help me, back when he used to care about me.

I bury my face against Neil’s chest. Into his shirt, I whisper, “I’ve fucked up big this time. If I told you everything, you would hate me. And I don’t want you to hate me. Not ever.”

Neil’s arms tighten around me. “Nothing would ever make me hate you, Chrissie. Whatever is going on it’s going to be OK. Talk to me. I want to help. We’ll figure out together how to fix whatever has got you so worried and afraid.”

Worried and afraid? How can he see that? That’s how I feel today. I just didn’t know it showed.

I turn in his arms to put space between us. His eyes are lush green and unguarded, and something in his gaze nearly makes the words spill from me.

“I’m sorry I’m such a pain,” I whisper.

“You’re not a pain. We’re friends. Friends help each other during the shitty times. I’m glad I’m here at a time when you need me. It’s one of the things I did wrong. One of the things I regret. Not being here for you as much as you were always here for me. Tell me what’s going on, Chrissie. There is no point pretending things are OK. Not with me, and I want to help. I owe you a lot.”

Neil means that, but somehow it makes being with him so much harder.

“You owe me nothing, Neil.”

His eyes burn into me. “Then let me be here for you because I love you.”

“Neil, please…”

“I won’t pretend I don’t love you when I do.”

He reaches up and wipes away a tear from my cheek with his finger, those callused fingers that touch with their own sweet type of velvet care.

“I love you and I’m going to keep loving you even if it’s just only as your friend,” Neil whispers.

The tears come harder; I can’t stop them. The sensation of Neil’s rough fingertips brushing my flesh floods my heart with the memory of Alan. When Neil touches me this way, it is Alan I think of and feel, and I don’t want to.

Why can’t life be as kind as Neil is? Why can’t I love Neil the way I love Alan?

I don’t pull back when Neil takes my body against him and wraps his arms around me. I know this is wrong, dishonest and unkind, but it feels so good to be held. Really, really good to let Neil hold me.

~~~

I wake in the wrap of Neil’s limbs. My bedroom is filled with faint light, and it feels like early morning. I don’t know if I should stir and let Neil see that I’m awake. His breath teasing my ear has the shallowness of sleep, but I’m not sure if he is asleep. I can’t tell by the way his arms are holding me, and I can’t see his face.

Somehow last night, we ended up in my bed together. I’m not exactly sure how it happened. It just happened.

I shift my head and my hair falls across my face. Unfocused moments slip by. I know why it happened; last night Neil was exactly what I need from a guy right now. For hours he just sat with me on the couch, holding me, caressing me, saying nothing, not probing into my fucked-up life with a whole bunch of questions, and by the time we went to bed everything about my predicament felt a little less scary.

It’s no big deal. It was a fuck. Nothing more. No harm, no foul to either of us.

More snippets of the night come to me. The way Neil looked at me. The words he spoke. The expression in his eyes as he made love to me.

Oh God, why did I let it happen? I try to console myself with the thought that it was just one of those things girls do when they are overwhelmed by their worries, when the guy they love will not love them, and there is a different guy, giving and wonderful, ready to be what you need him to be.

I cringe. That’s a pitiful rationalization. Well, there’s no point in panicking over this now, it’s done, and I really don’t need another thing to feel badly about.

I look down at Neil’s arms and try to figure out a way to slip out of bed without waking him. I need some alone time to get my emotions back in check. I’ve got to get the right amount of distance between us again.

Jeez, I don’t even know if that’s possible after last night. The temptation to tell him everything was painfully strong, even before we went to bed together. But I can’t do it. I can’t dump my shit on him. It wouldn’t be right, not on any level.

Having sex with Neil and waking with his flesh all around me reminds me that, as good as we are together, he is only almost everything I want and I won’t ever be in that place emotionally with Neil where he is everything that I want. Neil deserves that from a girl—for him to be everything that she wants—because he’s an amazing guy. I can’t give him that, and it would be wrong not to make that clear to him today.

Why did I take him to bed and fuck him?

I feel Neil move behind me, and then he starts kissing against the back of my neck and I tense. I can tell by how he is kissing me, touching me, that he is definitely in the mood for a repeat of last night.

I untangle myself from his arms and turn onto my other side, facing him.

Neil’s sleepy eyes hold me like an embrace as he reaches out to lightly touch my cheek. “Hi.”

My heart leaps against my chest since he says a single word—hi—in a way that tells me this wasn’t just a fuck for him.

“Hi,” I reply, tense and awkward.

His darkly tanned, nicely muscled arm lifts and he pushes the hair from his face. “I don’t think I have enough strength to get out of bed today. I think I’ll just lie here while you’re at class, thinking of you.”

“I don’t have class until four.”

“Everything is going my way today.” He smiles and starts to lightly brush his fingers along my arm. “Fuck, I’ve missed being with you, Chrissie. I wasn’t sure until I saw you lying beside me that I didn’t dream last night and that I wasn’t really on the couch.”

He leans in to kiss me and my entire body stiffens before I pull back. He eases up on an elbow, gaze rapidly sharpening, and I wonder what has slipped into my expression.

The languidness leaves him in a jolt I can feel. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I scooch away from him to recline against the headboard. “Look, Neil…”

His eyes start to flash, trapping my words inside me. “What do you mean look, Neil. Look, Neil, what?”

Oh crap. I try desperately not to look flustered. “Last night was good. Really good, but…” I halt for a minute, searching for the right words since it’s not easy to tell a guy you’ve just gone to bed with that having sex with him doesn’t mean you want him back. “…but I don’t think we should change anything about us.”

He pulls away and sits on the edge of the bed. “Not change anything, huh? Excuse me, but fucking you last night kind of seemed like we were changing things about us.”

My face burns, and I lower my gaze. “I don’t want us to get back together.”

In a moment he is rising from the bed, jerking on his pants.

“Where are you going? What are you doing?”

“I’m just putting on my pants,” Neil growls through gritted teeth, and I can feel he’s pulsing with anger and other things. He turns to face me. “What was last night? Did you just want to get laid or was that some kind of pity fuck for the guy you dumped?”

I cringe. “Jeez, Neil, pity fuck? Really?”

The way he stares at me makes me regret those words. OK, they were lame, but I never think fast on my feet.

I stare up at him, wide-eyed and pleading. “I care about you. You care about me. It just happened. That was what last night was. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

His jaw clenches and unclenches, and his expression changes several times. His gaze locks back on me, furious. “Are you seeing someone else? Involved with someone?”

Betraying color floods my cheeks and he lets out a ragged sigh as he rakes a hand through his hair.

“Fuck, I know I didn’t ask you that, but why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m not involved with anyone. I’m not even dating.”

He searches my face. “Are you telling me the truth?”

I nod and he looks relieved. I can tell that a part of the relief is that he’s wondered if I broke up with him for someone else.

He sinks down beside me on the bed.

“So do you want to start by telling me what’s going on or maybe just explain why you fucked me if you’re not interested in getting back together?”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to do either.”

Neil makes a small laugh. “That wasn’t an option. I’m only letting you choose where we start.”

I take a moment to try to organize my thoughts into a disclosure that won’t amplify Neil’s uncharacteristic, volatile state.

“I was involved with someone else for a while, but it’s over.”

That seems to calm Neil a little and he nods.

“Are you in love with him?” he asks, his voice rough.

I shrug. “We’re over. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to talk about that.”

“How long were you together?”

Fuck, why that question? There is no way to answer it without telling Neil things I don’t want to tell him. After several minutes carefully crafting the best way to answer, I’m trying to sputter out my response when all words take flight and I am knocked off my feet by what I am feeling.

I scramble from my bed and run into the bathroom to the toilet as the bile pushes upward from my stomach to mouth. I almost don’t make it and I barely manage to lift the lid and lower to my knees before the violent spasms start.

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Oh fuck. Not again. It’s getting more intense each day, as intense as it was yesterday. Over and over again I throw up, until I am sure there is nothing left in my stomach.

Struggling against my body, I pull myself up in front of the sink and splash water on my face. I breathe in and then out, hoping it’s passed, but I can feel my stomach take over again and I slouch over counter.

I can’t stop the spasms. There is too much rushing through me all at once.

I start to pant and splash more water on my face. Please, I don’t want to be sick all day today. Not now. Crap, how is it possible for there to be so much acid-tasting yellow bile?

Just the smell of it makes the sickness intensify and I vomit again. Panting heavily, I reach out, grab a hand towel, turn on the water, and once it’s soaked I hold it against my face.

I sit on the floor beside the toilet. Oh please, let that be the last. Breathe in. Breathe out. It goes away faster when I stop fighting it.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re pregnant?”

Oh no!

I look over my shoulder to find Neil watching from the open doorway. He waits until my labored breathing subsides.

“When were you going to tell me?” he repeats, more harshly this time.

The anxious and alarmed arrangement of his features warns me that he thinks he’s responsible for this. I say, “I hadn’t planned on telling you.”

Something changes in his eyes. It is something I’ve not seen before. The lines of his face harden in front of me inch by inch.

“Are you saying you weren’t going to tell me because you wanted to take care of it privately or because it isn’t mine?” he asks, his voice faint and emotion-roughened.

Crap, I didn’t want to tell Neil this, not like this, not this way, not ever. The answer will hurt us both too much if I allow it voice in the room. The truth will also make abundantly clear the parts of our history Neil doesn’t know and I’m suddenly desperate for him never to know that I was with Alan while we were together. Even though Neil and I understood we had an open arrangement, I don’t want him to know this.

My silence intensifies his anger.

“Fuck, Chrissie, don’t you think I deserve an answer to that?”

The knot in my throat is painful. “Yes, you deserve an answer. It’s not yours, Neil, and yes, I planned to take care of it privately, and yes, I didn’t want to ever tell you or anyone.”

His lower teeth cut into his upper lip, and it looks like he’s struggling with something only loosely internally contained.

Finally, he sinks down on the floor beside me, close but not touching. Minutes pass in heavy silence and it feels like neither of us knows what to say to each other.

Neil looks at me. “Does the guy know?”

I shake my head and his eyes flash at me.

“Don’t you think he deserves to know, Chrissie?”

“He doesn’t care and he doesn’t want to know. He ended it with me. We’re over. He doesn’t care about me. OK?”

My lips tighten as I struggle not to let surface how those words hurt me, but the words rip at my heart since they force me to remember that Alan doesn’t love me anymore. I set my washcloth down on the tile and lean back against the tub.

“How pregnant are you?” he asks.

I shrug. “Three months, I think.”

Neil looks alarmed again. “Think? Haven’t you been to see a doctor? If you don’t know how pregnant you are how do you know it’s not mine?”

I give him a hard stare since I’m not explaining that one to him. “I just know, Neil. It’s not yours.”

He shakes his head again. “You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m going to the clinic tomorrow. I’m doing it all in one appointment. Go to the clinic, get a pregnancy test, exam and termination all in the same day. According to Rene it’s no big deal. She’s had two abortions.”

“Fuck. I could have gone my entire life without knowing that about Rene. Is that why she’s so happy I’m here? She thinks I knocked you up? Is that why she wants to have breakfast with me this morning?”

I grimace at him saying knocked-up and murmur, “No, she doesn’t know and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t tell her. You’re the only person I’ve told. Jack doesn’t even know.”

His eyes fix on my face. “Are you going to tell me who you’ve been seeing?”

For a moment I debate whether I should and then I wonder why I am being stupid about this. Neil knows practically everything. Why not just be honest? Why not tell him everything? I already feel better, more calm inside, after the little I’ve already shared with Neil. Maybe if I tell him everything I’ll stop feeling awful and alone and afraid.

“I’ve been seeing Alan Manzone for almost three years. The baby is his.”

My voice is so quiet I can barely hear myself, but I know Neil heard me because his entire body tenses.

“Three years? You’ve been fucking Alan Manzone for three years?”

The way he repeats that makes me flinch.

“Is that why you broke up with me?” he asks.

His eyes burn into me and reluctantly I admit, “Yes.”

“Fuck, Chrissie.”

His legs come up in front of him, knees bent, and he plants his elbows on them, his face resting in his hands, his fingers tightly clenched in his hair.

“What else don’t I know? You might as well tell me everything, Chrissie.”

I’m so ashamed.

“You know everything, Neil. I’ve told you everything.”

He takes a slow, deep inhale of breath and then looks up. “Do you want me to stay longer? Go with you? Be with you during the appointment?”

I can’t believe Neil just offered to do that for me. “I was just going to go alone.”

“No, Chrissie. And I won’t let you. Fuck, I’m staying in Berkeley as long as you need me. I’ll go with you.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“You don’t have a choice. I’m staying. I’m doing it. You’re not going alone,” he announces stubbornly.

I drop my gaze to my clasped fingers resting in my lap. “Thanks.” I’m barely able to choke out that word before I turn into him and start to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything. I don’t know why you would offer to go with me or why you always are so nice to me.”

His arm encircles me. “I love you. I’m pretty fucking pissed right now, but I love you.”

Shame burns my digestive track. “You should hate me.”

“Nope. Not doing it.” His hand moves gently on my back and once I’ve calmed he turns to look at me. “You need to call him.”

All my muscles tense. “No. I’m not calling Alan. Leave it alone, Neil. I’ve made my decision.”

Neil springs to his feet and exits the bathroom. A few minutes later he returns. Damn, he’s carrying the cordless phone.

He holds it out to me. “Call him now, Chrissie. I’ll stay here with you while you do it, but it’s not right to make this decision without talking to him. I would fucking hate it if you did that to me.”

“I’m not calling,” I repeat more forcefully and Neil continues to stands frozen holding out the phone. “Damn it. I’ve already called him. I’ve left a hundred messages. Alan won’t call me back. He ended it. I can’t tell him because he won’t talk to me.”

We stare at each other and I can tell that Neil’s deeply engrossed in thought in the guy ready to manage and fix shit way. He sinks back down on the floor in front of me and something in how he looks at me makes my heart accelerate nervously.

“Does he know about us, Chrissie? That you were living with me while seeing him? Is that why he ended it?”

Damn. “Yes.”

Neil turns on the phone. “Give me his number.”

Fuck no! “What?”

“I’m calling him.”

My eyes go wide. “Like hell you are. He won’t talk to you. Why would he talk to you when he won’t talk to me?”

Neil looks both amused and grim. “Oh, he’ll talk to me, Chrissie. He won’t be able to stop himself. It’s a guy thing. I’m not going to explain it. He’ll take the call even if it’s just to tell me to fuck off.”

Neil waits expectantly. I can tell he’s not going to back down on this. “Fine.” Reluctantly I rattle off Alan’s number and Neil dials the phone. He stands up and moves away from me.

Seconds tick by in agonizing slowness as no less than a dozen pictures of how dreadful this might go flash in my head. Then he clicks off the phone and tosses it on the counter. Frowning, I watch as Neil moves across the room and crouches down in front of me.

He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “He’s disconnected the line. Is that the only number you have for him?”

My heart drops to my knees. It’s the only means I’ve ever had to reach Alan, through the private answering service, and he has disconnected it. I struggle not to fall apart.

I nod.

“I’m sorry, Chrissie. What a prick.” The tic in his cheek starts to work. “Fuck it, Chrissie. You don’t need Alan Manzone. I’ll stay here and be with you.”