I sleep on the couch again.
At three inthe morning I wake up to a soft rumbling.
I go still.
Then I hear it again. The office door, opening soft.
It’s her.
Bare feet on the hall floor. The stairs. I lie on the couch in the dark and listen to her come down.
She stops in the living room. I can see the shape of her in the low light from the window. My shirt again. Leggings. Hair loose.
She stands there a long time.
Then she walks to the front door.
Opens it.
Steps out onto the porch.
She doesn't close it behind her.
I sit up. Slow. Throw the blanket off. Pull on jeans from the floor. Go to the door.
She's on the top step. Arms wrapped around herself. Looking at the tree line.
I stand behind her. Don't touch her.
"I can't do it," she says. Quiet. Doesn't turn around.
"Do what."
"The version I said I could survive."
I breathe out.
"Simone."
"I'm scared, Gray. I'm so scared. I have been taking care of myself since I was sixteen and I don't know how to let someone love me out loud. I don't know how to not run. I don't know how to believe a man says he loves me three days in and mean it."
"I meant it."
"I know."
She turns around.
Tears on her face. Not dramatic. Just there.
"I don't want to go to Toronto Tuesday."
"Then don't."
"I have to."
"I know."
"But I don't want to leave and pretend I can survive it."
