Page 112 of Fly's Path

None of it matters.

Lola and I were made for each other.

There’s nothing in this world that can stop us from being together.

***

Should I knock?

Maybe I should just stand out here and wait for her to come out.

That could be all day.

She has to eat, doesn’t she?

Maybe I should knock.

Or I should start groveling and then knock.

The door opens, and LynnLeigh stares at me in shock. “You’re not here. I’m seeing things because no man would be stupid enough to show up at the door of the woman he lied to and cheated on before they went on their first date. So I must be seeing things.”

“Is she in there?” Could I sound any more pathetic?

“For you, she no longer exists. You need to walk away and never even look in her direction again. If you see her walking on campus, turn the other way. If she’s in a restaurant, pick another one. If she’s at a party you want to go to…well, that’s never going to happen ever again. What were you thinking? Are you stupid or something? Because one second, you’re into her. The next, you’re at a party dancing with other girls when you could have been dancing with her. In what part of your feebly small brain does that make sense? Or do you just enjoy trifling with women?” LynnLeigh steps forward, shoving her pointy fingernail into my chest. “Was that it? Was my friend just a game to you?”

“Never.”

“Then why are you playing games with her?”

The truth is the one answer I can’t give.

“Answer me.”

“I can’t. There is no excuse. There is no reason good enough for hurting her. All I can do is say I’m sorry. It was not my intention to hurt her. I would do anything to protect her.”

Lola steps up to the door. At least a woman who at one point looked like my Lola. This creature…this completely decimated creature can’t be the woman I’m falling for.

I did this to her. I destroyed her, hoping to save some strangers that I might never even meet. It hardly seems worth it, regardless of how idealistic I was.

Except it wasn’t nameless, faceless people. My brother’s son died. I can’t stop now.

“Hi. These are for you.” I hold out the offerings without much hope that she’ll take them.

The woman in front of me is a zombie pretending to be part of the living and failing at it dismally. Like I am any better. I might not have a tear-streaked face, my hair might be nice and neat, there’s no makeup on my face to turn me into a raccoon, but that doesn’t mean I’m any more alive than she is.

She takes them like a robot with unseeing eyes. “Why?”

There is no answer to that. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Why!”

“I know you can’t forgive me, but the last thing I would ever do is hurt you.”

“WHY?”