Page 67 of Come Back to Bed


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“Stop talking and stop making up words, you slerd.”

I don’t think I’ve had this much fun in years.

She frowns, takes away the “r” tile, and I acceptsled.

“Have you ever been in a serious relationship?” It’s only the question I’ve been dying to ask for over a month.

Her eyes get shifty, her lips lock up, and she falls back. She’s pretending to be asleep.

“You don’t have to answer.”

She sits back up and types:Not serious.

BF: You’re trying to change the subject because I’m winning.

I have over two hundred points more than her.

“So you’ve always been a happymerdl, is what you’re saying?”

She laughs until she coughs and then wipes a tear from her eyes.

BF: I want to tell you the name of my painting. The one over the fireplace.

“You meanmypainting?”

BF: No.

“One day. Okay, tell me the name.”

She types slowly and carefully. My eyes are glued to my phone.

BF: It’s called ‘Into the Woods.’

“I like that. Why?”

BF: It’s the view of the woods along the edge of the farm where I grew up…I’ve been staying on the edge of the woods, looking in. One day, I’ll go into the woods.

“One day.” I move over to the sofa to sit beside her, brush the hair out of her face. “There’s really nothing to be afraid of, you know.”

She looks up at me and blinks.

Her phone, which is on the sofa next to her, vibrates.

“Let it go to voicemail.”

She doesn’t even look down at it to see who’s calling.

BF: I’m going back to sleep, okay?

“Okay.”

BF: No more words today.

“Okay.”

She kisses Daisy on the top of her head and goes to her bedroom.

No more words today, Bernadette. I’ll just go back to looking at your pictures.