“It’s funny,” I say. “I think we both thought that. I always thought the same about you. That he was easier on you because you didn’t give a shit.”
Leo gulps in too much air.
“I fucking miss him.” He drops his forehead to the bar, and his shoulders start shaking, and it takes my woozy mind a moment to catch up and realize that he is crying.No no, let’s go punch a wall. Let’s not feel this pain as we need to feel it. It’s too acute. It will gut us, spill too much blood for us to recover. My dried-up insides can’t bleed another ounce.
I put a hand on his back until his jagged breathing becomes more steady, and then he wipes his nose on the sleeve of his gown, which is exactly what he’d do when he was little and my parents would make me babysit for him, and we’d watch TV while he wiped boogers on himself. Not so much has changed in the span of a decade or so, I realize. Leo still needs someone to look out for him: rub his back, wipe his nose.
I ask for the check and resolve right then that it will be me.
30
TATUM
JULY 2013
From: Ben Livingston
To: Amanda Paulson
Re: things
Date: April 10, 2013
A—listen, god, this is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever written. But, well, you know that I’ve been struggling lately, I just, ok, here goes: I think we should probably take a break. I’m typing that and it doesn’t seem right or maybe none of this seems real. I don’t know. I’m so fucked up now, and I want you. You know how much I want you. But there are all these stories in the press now, and if Tatum finds out ...
I don’t know what I want yet, and if this explodes before I’ve figured it out ...
Jesus, this is the most inarticulate thing I’ve ever written, and that’s saying a lot.
I want you. I need you. I just don’t know what to do about it.
What do you think?
—B
From: Amanda Paulson
To: Ben Livingston
Re: re: things
Date: April 10, 2013
B—I understand. You know I do. But I do have to be honest and say that being with you again, well, it made me realize what an idiot I was back in New York, and if there’s any way that I can keep you in my life, selfishly, I want that. I need that. I don’t know how to undo this past year. I don’t know how to turn this off. Does that sound overdramatic? I don’t mean it to be. I only mean that you’re so easy to love, and I can’t help but feel like the only thing we’ve had wrong is our timing, our chronology.
—A
From: Ben Livingston
To: Amanda Paulson
Re: re: re: things
Date: April 10, 2013
A—want to meet for a drink tonight at Sunset Tower and discuss? Maybe it will feel better if we do it in person.
—B
