Page 119 of 56 Days
Her voice, tinny from the speaker: “Can I come in?”
“Of course. Of course. Of course.”
On the video screen, she disappears from view and there’s a clicking sound as the outside door opens.
Oliver goes to open his own front door and stands on its threshold, one hand holding it open, facing down the corridor. He tries to rub alertness into his face with his free hand while he waits.
What is he going to say to her? What isshegoing to say tohim? When she rounds the curve in the corridor, her face offers no hints—at least until she reaches him, when her brow furrows with concern.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
This is promising, he thinks. That she cares.
“I just haven’t slept properly,” he says, his tongue feeling thick.
“Since I last saw you, by the look of things.”
“Yeah, well.” He swallows hard. “Are you coming in?”
“I was going to. We need to talk, but...” She hesitates. “I don’t think you’re in any fit state to, right now.”
“I’m fine,” he protests.
“I can see that you’re not. You look like shit and your pupils are the size of saucers.” A pause. “Have you been drinking?”
He shakes his head,no. “I just need to sleep. But I’m okay for now. Come in—”
“Like hell you are.”
“Please.”
A beat passes.
“Look,” she says then, “why don’t you just go to bed, get a good night’s sleep, and I’ll come back tomorrow. We can talk then.”
The kindness in her voice cuts through him. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserveher.
“Okay,” he says, “but will you stay?”
It takes what feels like forever for her to decide.
“All right, but only to make sure you rest. And I’ll be on the couch.”
They go inside, and he closes the door behind them.
“What’s that smell?” she says, wrinkling her nose.
All he can smell is her, the stuff she puts in her hair that smells of the sea and sunny days. He thinks of the day in the park, her lying beside him, nothing else on the earth but blue sky and their heartbeats.
She gently guides him toward the bedroom, motions for him to get into bed.
“Are you back?” he says. “Can you love me anyway?”
She doesn’t speak and he closes his eyes before he can see the answer on her face.
He hears the blind coming down, the heels of her boots crossing the floor, the softclickof the bedroom door as she closes it gently, saying, “We’ll talk in the morning, okay?”
56 Days Ago
