Page 55 of The Affair
“My grandpa’s weren’t,” I argued, remembering that dream from the other night. The one with the door I couldn’t enter and the hallway that smelled of rubbing alcohol and despair. “He lost all his memories in the end.”
“So, write them down. Do what your nana did.”
“She just recorded the weather patterns and facts about her garden,” I argued.
Giving me a firm look, he tilted his head to the side. “We both know that’s not true. The words in that letter we read spoke of a woman who’d recorded much more than facts.”
It was a sobering thought.
“What if I don’t like the woman who’s in that journal?”
He smiled, placing a hand on my shoulder. “But what if you do? You’ll never know unless you open it.”
“You’re right. I should stop being such a baby about it. Just rip it off.”
“What?” he asked, a levity to his voice that hadn’t been there before.
“You know, like a Band-Aid. If you pick at it, it hurts ten times worse, but if you just rip the sucker off, it’s far less painful.”
“That’s so not true.” He laughed. “Have you ever tried that? Ripping the Band-Aid hurts just as much but maybe for a tiny bit less time.”
“That’s not what my mom told me, growing up.”
He just smiled.
“Okay, whatever. The saying still works in this situation. Can you take this tray?”
“But you haven’t even touched your soup!” He pointed at the full bowl, clearly not impressed with my progress, which was next to nothing.
But a girl could only take so much canned soup, and I really was feeling better. It was time to move on to bigger and better things.Wasn’t that what he was always telling me?
“I actually could go for a pizza. Would you mind going out and getting us one? From that new place? Extra cheese and pepperoni?”
He laughed, touching my forehead with the back of his hand. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about feeling better.”
I held my breath, wondering if he was going to kiss me again, but sadly, the only action my forehead was getting today was the gentle caress of his fingertips.
Damn.
“Sure,” he answered. “Do you mind if I run an errand while I’m out? Also, keep in mind that I’ll have to take your car.”
Giving a little shrug as he pulled off the tray, I answered, “Not at all, and that’s fine. I’m going to shower and dive into those trashy journals my nana wrote, so take your time.”
“Roger that.”
Neither of us touched on the simple fact that if I was indeed feeling better, there was no reason he actually needed to stick around. There were at least two other places in the area that delivered pizza, and I was perfectly capable of giving myself Advil at regular intervals.
All he needed was a ride back to the store to pick up his truck, and this whole thing could be over with.
“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, his eyes briefly meeting mine at the door.
“Good,” I answered.
There are some paths in your life you’re never meant to take.
But yet, somehow, by some twist of fate, you find yourself wandering down that long, forbidden road anyway.
My grandmother’s words came back to me at that moment as I watched him walk away.
