It’s like I can feel her breaking against me, a crack splintering outward from somewhere deep inside. It fractures me too, zig-zagging lines of pain and memory cutting into my heart. I know what she’s going to say next. That doesn’t stop it from slicing me open.
“You can’t...or you won’t?”
Your head is too big and your heart is too small.
I should have listened the first time.
“You know how I feel. You know what it’s like for me,” I plead. “I can’t give in. I can’t just walk away from it. It’s who I am.”
“It doesn’t have to be.” Monroe cups my jaw with her hands, andsacrement, I don’t know what sears me more: the hurt in her eyes or the hope. “You can be whoever you want. That’s what you’ve been trying to show me, and you did. Let me do the same for you. Your father—”
“Don’t.”
My interruption is harsh enough to make her drop her hands.
“Don’t bring him into this,” I add, softer this time.
“But he’s part of it. He—”
“Don’t use him against me to get what you want, Monroe.”
It’s not a fair accusation, and I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but I’m desperate for a defence mechanism, for a way to somehow stand my ground. If I don’t, I’ll just say yes and end up hurting her even more in the long run. Even if I do sell the bar, what am I giving her? Long evenings alone when I don’t come home. Phone calls I forget to return. Hasty apologies for mistakes I’ll only make again.
I always make fucking mistakes.
“Excuse me?” She jumps off my lap and faces me with her hands on her hips. “That’s not what I’m doing, and you know it.”
I rise to my feet as well. “I’m sorry. I...Monroe, just think about what you’re asking.”
“I have thought about it. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want, what I’m capable of, and for the first time in my life, I’m ready to go after it. I’ll do that with or without you, but...but I’d rather have you on my side.”
She takes a step closer, her posture softening just enough for me to notice the change. I want to lean into her. I want to tell her everything will be okay, but all I do is stand there at the edge of the couch.
“I told you what you mean to me. I told you what I feel.” Her lip quivers before she catches it with her teeth. “Tell me something. Anything.”
What I feel for you is everything I love and hate about myself.
You are all my dreams and nightmares come to life.
I want to hold you until this mess makes sense. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me feel like I have a way out.
My heart calls out to her, but my head remembers the truth.
My silence is the only answer she needs. Her shoulders start to shake. She lifts her hand only to clench it in a fist and let it fall back to her side.
Then she’s leaving.
“Monroe, wait!” I lunge for the door just as she grabs the handle.
“Wait!” I call out the words I didn’t even bother shouting after Fleur. “Please, wait. Just wait. I...I...”
“I know,” she murmurs, still facing the door. “You can’t.”
Then she’s gone.
She’s gone, and I’m alone.
The first thing I notice, once I’m actually able to notice anything at all, is how quiet the condo is. I’m standing exactly where she left me, arms braced at my sides with my eyes fixed on the door, when the utteremptinessof the room strikes me. The air conditioning hums, a pipe gurgles, and my pulse thuds in my ears. The scratch of Madame Bovary’s nails on the floor is so loud it makes me jump. She nudges my pant leg, and with the distractedness of someone locked in a trance, I bend forward to pet her, still staring at the door.
