His phone dinged.Clothing rustled.And then Bobby let out a breath that was dangerously close to a sigh, and I realized he had to be tired.He had to be beyond tired—exhausted and still hurting and frustrated and stressed and a million other things.
Bobby’s steps moved toward the billiard room.He stopped in the doorway, paused as though listening or trying to peer through the gloom, and said, “Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“Like a creep,” I said.“You have to include that part.And the answer is so I can dramatically turn on a lamp, like this.”
Bobby shaded his eyes at the bloom of light.He didn’t look impressed.Hedidlook like he might be seriously considering turning around and heading straight upstairs, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars.
But instead, he took a few weary steps into the room.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi.”
“It’s technically tomorrow,” I said.“Well, it’s technically today, but you know what I mean.And I didn’t want to go to bed without talking.”
His silence was measured out by the distant sound of the waves.“It’s been a long day.”
“I’ll be quick, I promise.”When he didn’t say anything, I continued, “Do you remember why I left Hugo?I left—I ran away—because I was scared that I was going to make a mistake.And the mistake would be something like this: I was going to stay with Hugo because it was easier than taking a risk.I was going to stay with him because it was safe, even though I wasn’t sure I loved him—not the way I wanted to love someone.I was going to stay with him because I didn’t know if love was even real, or if it was something made up for books and TV.And I was terrified that I was going to wake up one day, thirty or forty years down the road, and realize I’d given up a shot at the life I wanted because I was too afraid to take a chance.”I drew a deep breath.“And then I met you.”
Bobby put his hands on his hips, but it didn’t last long.He rubbed his eyes again.
“I love you, Bobby.I love you in ways I never thought were possible.I didn’t know I could be this happy.”A lopsided grin fell out.“When I’m not making us both miserable.”
“You’re not—Dash, I shouldn’t have said any of that.”
“No, I’m glad you did.Because I’m so proud of you for expressing yourself.And because I want to know when I cross a line, when you need me to show up for you, when I let you down.Because I want to do better.And I want to acknowledge that I’ve been, I don’t know, wrapped up in this TV thing.Itisexciting, Bobby.This is what authors dream of.It’s not a career-maker—it’s a level-up.It’s a whole different game.And my writing is important to me.My career is important to me.”
“And it should be.You worked hard for it.I never want you to feel like I don’t support you, or like I don’t want you to get everything you deserve.”
I waited for him to finish before I said, “But it’s not more important than you.And do you know what I realized tonight?I haven’t told you that.”
“You don’t need to tell me; I know.”
“But Ishouldtell you, Bobby.Iwantto tell you.And I’m going to do better.”
Bobby wiped his eyes.“Dash, it’s okay.Really.I know.”
I smiled at him.I could feel the seconds ticking past.Finally, I forced myself to say, “I also haven’t told you how scared I am.”
Voice thick, he asked, “What?Why?”
“Because I have no idea what I’m doing.I don’t write screenplays.I don’t write true crime—I certainly don’t write nonfiction.And my God, Bobby, what am I going to do in L.A.?Everyone there looks like a supermodel and eats, I don’t know, sprouts, and for heaven’s sake, they practicallyinventedjogging.”
A wet laugh escaped Bobby.
“I’ve spent so long…paralyzed.”I groped for some way to explain it.“Paralyzed by what kind of book to write.Paralyzed by what kind of detective I should have.Paralyzed by the thought that if I ever did finish a book, it wouldn’t be any good.Paralyzed when, it turned out, itwasn’tall that good.All that indecision and worry and perfectionism wrapped with a cute little bow on top that is, in this case, some wack-level social anxiety.And then, out of left field, someone shows up, tells me they love what I’ve done, and now they want me to do something completely different—oh, and millions of dollars are on the line, and they’re literally going to make me into a public figure.It’s a lot.But that’s not an excuse for my behavior.I’m sorry that I let it make me so…self-absorbed.And I’m sorry I let it become a priority.Becauseyouare my priority, Bobby.I meant what I said: you are the most important person in my world.”
“I should have thought of that,” Bobby said.His voice was still gravelly.“About you being worried and stressed and unsure.I’m sorry.I didn’t think about it—I didn’t think about it at all.As soon as you told me about it, it was like—” He gave his eyes one last vigorous wipe; the skin there was shiny with the tears he’d tried to wipe away.“It was like my mind went blank.I haven’t been able to think about anything except the fact that you were going to take the deal, and you’d go to L.A., and I kept telling myself we’d figure it out, but—but what if we didn’t?”
“I’m not going to do it.”
“No!No, Dash.”He took a few snuffling breaths and shook his head.“Please.Iwantyou to do it.I know I’m being irrational.I know there are solutions.You can split your time.I can move there with you.But then that guy showed up here, and I could see how he looked at you, and he wasn’t just excited about a TV show, and I thought this was what I was going to have to compete with, and you’d be surrounded by all these smart, interesting people who understand what you do and who—whogetyou, and you’d be famous, and— God, why can’t I stop crying?”He dried his hands on his jeans.“And it was like West.I know it wasn’t; that’s not how I meant to say it.But itfeltlike everything with West again.I guess what I’m trying to say is that it brought up a lot of stuff for me, and I know I didn’t handle it well, and I want to apologize.I’m sorry.”
I shook my head.Yes, it had been the same in some ways—Bobby had been afraid, and he’d felt powerless, and so he’d done what he usually did: he’d tried to lock down everything that was uncertain.He’d tried to get everything back under control.
But it wasn’t the same.Not at all.
“Will you marry me?”I asked.
