It’s pulling me in, making me feel homesick. Exactly like his words just now.
“I’m not…” I shake my head. “I’m not your responsibility.”
“You’re my life.”
My thighs clench.
My entire body clenches.
In preservation? In love? I don’t know. All I know is that I need to get away from him.
“Yeah?” I swallow my tears. “So you’ll protect me from the world.”
“Yes.”
“But who will protect me from you?”
His reply is a wince and a clamp of his jaw.
Sighing, I leave.
A few minutes later, when I’m settling myself in the bed, I hear a knock; I know it’s him. I don’t open it. I clutch the sheets and stare at the brown, non-descript door.
Minutes pass but the second knock isn’t forthcoming.
Slowly, I get out of the bed and turn the knob. He isn’t there. No one is.
But at my feet is a brown paper bag and inside it, there’s enough Twix to last me for days.