She shrugs as she takes a seat on the floor, and I hear her crying softly. “Got me. It’s not like I can rent this place out with you here. No matter how much I beg you, I know you’ll scare the shit out of any potential tenants I let move in. AndIcertainly don’t want to be your roommate.”
I laugh. “The feeling’s mutual.”
“Even if I wanted to level this place, I’d have to pay for that, and I can’t afford it. If I turn off every utility and just let the place rot, I’d still have to pay the property taxes, which I can’t afford.” She hangs her head in her hands.
“Why can’t you just rent the place to Natalie? You won’t make as much as if you’d be able to rent out every bedroom, but it’s better than nothing.”
She whirls on me, smacking my knee with the back of her hand. “Because this is the last place she wants to be after you broke her heart, you dick!”
My patience––what little I had of it––dissipates. “Are you fucking kidding me? You got exactly what you wanted! Natalie isn’t with me. I’m not dragging her down anymore.”
Lindsay stares at me, her gaze intense, assessing. It only adds to my anger.
“You might think you know her better than anyone, but you didn’t get to see the side she showed me. She’s not this fragile dove with a broken wing. Have you considered, for just one goddamn moment, that maybe she’s actually stronger than that? Stronger than you, even?”
She remains silent, as if waiting for me to continue.
“Do you have any idea how brave it is to trust new people after your heart has been torn to ribbons? And how many times has her heart broken? Yet she continues to trust. Continues to believe that she can find happiness in the presence of others.”
Lindsay winces, as if I slapped her.
“I can’t speak for you, Lindsay, but my heart has been chewed up and spit out endless times, and it’s only reinforced my belief that other people aren’t worth the trouble they come with. My heart has only gotten harder, while hers gets softer.” I suck in a breath, realizing that adrenaline is pumping through my veins and my entire body is shaking. “Although, I think I’ve spent enough time in your company to know that you’re just as unpleasant and difficult to be around as I am, so maybe take a moment and reflect on your low opinion of Natalie. She’s stronger than both of us, better than both of us, and you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
I shift in my seat on the steps, and my sketchbook slides down onto the main floor, between me and Lindsay. Her hand darts out faster than mine does, and she flips it open as my heart climbs its way up my throat.
“What do we have here?” she says, tone awestruck.
She studies each page, and I wish I could read her mind. Other than the widening of her eyes, her expression gives away nothing as she takes in page after page of drawings of Natalie. There’s nothing in my sketchbook but her because there’s nothing else that has so thoroughly captured my interest. There are drawings of just her face when she’s smiling, of her profile when she’s looking out the window and the sun casts shadows across her cheek and down the delicate column of her throat. I’ve drawn portraits of her sleeping peacefully, of her naked with her juicy thighs spread wide and her face twisted in lust. She fills the pages just as much as she fills my mind.
I don’t expect Lindsay to burst into laughter, but that’s what happens.
I’m ready to throw her stack of papers in the air and storm back to the attic when she puts a hand on my arm.
“Wait, I’m sorry.” She fans her face with the sketchbook, trying to cease her laughter. After a moment, she says, “You know what, Winston? You’re right.”
“I’m…I’m right? About what?”
She shakes her head in what looks to be wonder as her different-colored eyes size me up. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about. See, I thought you were a horny old man taking advantage of my very vulnerable friend, and the idea of you fucking her in the bedroom I once slept in before I got my period, I’ll be honest, it freaked me out.”
I’m offended for so many reasons, but I also can’t figure out where this is going. “I died when I was in my late thirties. I haven’t aged a day beyond that, so I’m not an old man.”
“That wasn’t the case, though, was it?” She asks, ignoring my comment. “You weren’t in it for just the sex.” Her gaze narrows. “You were in love with her, weren’t you?”
“No,” I correct. “Iamin love with her. Present tense.”
She searches my face, looking for something, and I squirm under the focused attention.
“Are you done staring at me like that? Jesus.”
Another moment, then she nods. “Yup. I see it now. You’re telling the truth.” She chuckles as if this whole ordeal is amusing to her, then lets out a gasp that echoes all the way up to the third floor. “Oh my god.” Her hands clutch the sides of her head, her eyes wide in horror. “Oh, no. No. No. No. No.”
“What?” I demand, growing impatient. “What the hell is wrong now?”
“Winston.” She reaches out, squeezing my shin, unshed tears filling her eyes.
I bat her hand away, disgusted by the physical contact. It’s not Lindsay that disgusts me. She pisses me off, but I think I’d have this reaction if any woman other than Natalie laid a hand on me.
“This is my fault. All of it.” Her eyes dart around the foyer, as if she’s likely to find the solution to her problems thumb-tacked to the wall. “Y-You ended it because of me. Her broken heart is my fault.” She starts crying again as she folds in on herself and goes back to muttering, “No, no, no.”
