Alyssa brings her gaze back to me. "Can we talk about it after I've had some coffee?"
I nod and look at her a little closer. There are dark circles under her eyes and she's pale. I know that look.
"Did you sleep last night?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "Too many time zones. But it's fine. I just need coffee. A lot of coffee."
"You sure you don't want to spend a few hours in bed?"
She nods. "I'd much prefer coffee."
***
We have a slow breakfast. Alyssa drinks cup after cup of coffee, but none of them bring her any closer to explaining what happened this morning.
I know better than to press her by now. Something is wrong, yes, but she'll tell me when she's ready.
I have to respect her boundaries, no matter how much I want to pry this out of her.
So I talk about last night. I talk about work. I talk about the Oscar bait movies that are playing in every theater in Los Angeles.
She's responsive, even though it's obvious she's tired. I suggest we opt out of our original plan for the day--taking a long, difficult hike--to do something that won't exhaust her. But she refuses.
"You haven't slept in twenty-four hours," I say.
"I'm fine," she says. "Great even."
But she certainly doesn't look great. She looks ragged, though it's unclear if her exhaustion is from lack of sleep or from whatever it is she's hiding.
Don't get me wrong. Even tired, Alyssa is gorgeous. There's something so pleasant about looking at her, hearing her, just being near her.
I'm so damn lucky to have her. Even if she is hiding something.
"You're going to pass out from dehydration after all that coffee," I say.
"Are you a lawyer or a doctor?"
"Technically, a law degree is a doctorate."
She rolls her eyes, but there's a joy to it.
"I'll laugh my way to the bathroom," she says. She pushes away from the table and makes her way to the restaurant's bathroom.
It crosses my mind for a split second--what if she's purging--but I shake it away. She's been doing better for a long time. And she'd tell me if she was struggling.
She would tell me.
We've been together for the last two weeks. There's no way she'd be able to hide a relapse.
I take a long sip of my tea. I'm getting worked up over nothing. I need to calm down, so she'll feel comfortable talking to me.
Alyssa returns to the table. She looks at me as she slides into her seat. She's really studying my expression.
"Don't tell me..." She shakes her head like she's disappointed in me. "And here I thought you finally trusted me."
"You're not talking to me."
"I was not in the bathroom throwing up. That's what you wanted to hear, isn't it?"
"I didn't think otherwise." I take a deep breath. I can stay calm here.
She didn't sleep last night. She's tired. I don't mind putting up with a little crankiness. A cranky Alyssa is much better than anyone or anything else.
"If I didn't trust you, I'd be throwing a fit about that phone call."
She bites her lip. She knows I'm right.
She packs her purse and takes one last sip of coffee. "Let's go."
I nod. Hiking while exhausted seems like a terrible idea, but I do trust her.
***
Our morning hike is supposed to be difficult. It's two and a half very steep miles. I explain the path to Alyssa on the drive, but she is not deterred in the least.
She rolls her eyes at me. "I thought you were in shape with all that tactical bodyweight training bullshit."
It's either make a sharp U-turn or accept that she'll be fine hiking up a steep cliff after getting no sleep.
"You look like you're about to jump off a bridge." Alyssa pokes my shoulder. "I really am okay."
"I believe you."
She shifts, pulling her legs to her seat and crossing them. "It doesn't seem like it."
I focus on the narrow road. We're almost there. It's going to be fine. "I do. I'm just... I worry about you."
She says nothing, but I can feel her reaction over here. She hates that I'm worried about her. She hates when anyone is worried about her.
"People worry about each other, Ally. It's normal."
"I didn't say anything."
"I know what you were thinking."
I pull into the parking area of the hiking trail. This whole place is beautiful--lush green everywhere and a view of the ocean for miles. There's no reason why this won't be a nice morning.
"Do you know what I'm thinking right now?" It's a challenge, an irritation.
I park the car, unbuckle my seat belt, and turn to Alyssa. "Knowing you, it's probably NC-17."
"Very funny."
"You have to admit. I look sexy as hell in my shorts," I say.
She shakes her head but she's grinning. "I care about things besides fucking you senselessly."
"Fucking me sense-fully?"
"Smug bastard." She laughs, shaking her head in some great release of tension. "Sorry. I guess I'm a little cranky."
"You're cute cranky."
She leans towards me until she's only a few inches away. Her eyes find mine. Damn, those are such gorgeous eyes.
She smiles, the tiniest thing, and slides her arm behind my neck. I lean into her, pressing my lips into hers.
When she pulls back, she brings her eyes back to mine. She looks at me for what feels like forever. It's like she's finding something in me, figuring something out.
"I do appreciate the concern," she says. "But I'm not going to break."
"I know."
She nods, reassured, and gets out of the car. I follow suit.
The scenery is even more gorgeous without a window in the way. There's blue sky and ocean for miles, and the hiking trail is something straight out of paradise. It's the most vibrant shade of green over mountains and valleys. It's life, everywhere.
I take Alyssa's hand and we make our way up the steep trail. It starts off simple enough--a straight dirt path going up a mountain. We walk slowly at first, taking in the sights, the warm breeze, the feeling of being ensconced by nature.
Alyssa stops at the peak of this curve of the trail. She turns back to look at me. There's such a joy in her expression. For a minute I forget that we've spent the last few months falling apart, that she's having secret conversations on the phone at the crack of dawn, that we're going to have to deal with this impossible distance.
The trail slopes down and starts to wind. There's a mountain to the left, and it's covered with layers and layers of vines. It's so green and so overgrown, it nearly blocks out the sky. To our right is a long valley. Tiny green bushes and tall, thick trees with deep, knotty roots.
"Come on, Grandpa. I don't have all day." Alyssa rushes ahead.
She's moving fast, almost running. I pick up the pace and catch up to her. She's tired, a little out of breath, but she is holding up fine.
I was worrying for nothing.
We hike for a long time. There's so much to take in. This place is so different from anywhere we've ever been together. Hell, anywhere I've ever been. It's pure, untouched jungle. It's secluded. It's perfect.
The morning turns to afternoon. The sun rises, until it casts a soft glow over everything.
We don't stop until we come to a sharp batch of rocks. The only way up the rest of the trail is climbing. Alyssa eyes them with trepidation, but she won't admit she's scared.
I'll have to give her an easy out.
"How about we take a break?" I ask.
"I'm fine."
"Yes, but I'm in the middle of paradise. There's beauty everywhere I look." I turn to her. "Especially in front of me."
"Cheesy." She smiles.
"I want to absorb everything."
Alyssa shakes her head. "You don't fool me for a second. But fine." She takes a seat on a short rock.
I find a place to sit near her and bring my gaze to
her eyes. She's taking in the scenery with a certain amazement.
She's happy.
I'd hate to destroy that.
She brings her gaze back to me. "What are you thinking?"
"How lucky I am to have you."
"Cute answer, but what are you really thinking?" She brings her fingernail to her mouth, biting it like it has all the answers.
"How lucky I am to be here with you." I shift, but I keep my eyes on her.
"That's very sweet."
"My specialty."
She nods. "I feel that too you know. Lucky that you put up with me."
"Ally... it's not like that."
"Never?" Her eyes turn towards the expanse of sky. Like there's an answer somewhere in the clouds.
"Everyone gets frustrated sometimes."
She shakes her head like she accepts the answer, but she doesn't. There's something off about her posture, a discomfort.
"Are you frustrated I haven't told you about the phone call?"
"If you say it's not important, I trust you."
"We don't always agree about what is or isn't important." She brings her expression back to me for a second, and then her gaze is back on the ground.
Whatever this is, she's afraid to tell me.
"I do trust you." I slide to my feet and kneel in front of her. "I mean it."
She looks down at me and nods. I offer my hand and she takes it. She squeezes it so tightly she nearly cuts off my circulation.
"Do you want to tell me?" I ask.
She nods. "Give me a second." She takes her hands back and runs them through her hair. She adjusts her tank top, her shorts, anything that can serve as an excuse. Then she brings her eyes back to me. "Are you sure you won't get upset?"
I laugh. "Now I know we've had this conversation before."
She nods and looks away again. I bring my hand to her cheek, turning her back to me.
"I mean it," I say.
She takes a deep breath. "It was Ryan. I was on the phone with Ryan."
My stomach drops.
Alyssa was on the phone with Ryan. At the ass crack of dawn. My fiancée locked herself in the bathroom to call her ex-boyfriend. And she insists this conversation was unimportant.
"You look like you're going to throw up," she says.
I fall back onto my ass. She's staring at me like she's worried. If she doesn't have a good explanation for this...
"I've felt better in the past," I say.
"It didn't mean anything."
"Would you swear on that?"
She holds my gaze for a moment, but breaks to shake her head. "It didn't mean what you think it means."
I'm a reasonable man. I know she wasn't calling him to have hot phone sex. Or to profess her undying love. But they were friends for a long time. There might be something there.
It's possible this has been going on for a long time.
"What are you thinking?" she asks.
"I'm thinking you should put me out of my misery and tell me why you were talking to Ryan."
She nods. So she understands how reasonable this request is. But she bites her lip, turning her gaze to the sky again. Squinting to block out the sun. "I should put my sunglasses back on."
"Alyssa."
"I can't explain it exactly," she says.
"Did you call him?"
"What's the difference?" She crosses her legs. She's still looking at the sky.
"You did, didn't you?"
She shakes her head, but she still won't look at me.
"Why?"
"Well." She takes a long breath. "He visited me in New York. After a show."
"When was this?"
"On the last night."
"So, while I was listening to your friends get drunk, you were having a chat with good old Ryan?"
"I knew you'd take it the wrong way." She shrinks back, just a little bit, still looking anywhere but my eyes.
She's practically afraid of me.
"Okay. Explain to me how I should take it."
"He wanted to make amends." She says it with such earnestness, like she believes this is the truth.
Maybe it is. Maybe Ryan isn't the evil piece of shit I always assumed he was.
I take a deep breath, trying my best not to get angry. Not to resort to calling him names or accusing her of wrongdoing. It's only going to convince her I don't trust her.
"And what did that entail?" I ask.
"I didn't fuck him," she says. "In case you were wondering."
"I assumed."
She folds her arms in irritation. "I barely hugged him good-bye."
"Ally, I believe you weren't physical with him."
Finally she brings her gaze back to me. She's studying me. Probably deciding if she trusts me enough to explain.
I take another deep breath. I need to be someone she can trust, someone who won't overreact. "Okay. Why don't you tell me why this is bothering you?"
She nods. "It will sound stupid."
"I'm the king of stupid."
She cracks a tiny smile. "He said about what I'd expect. He apologized for being an asshole way back when. He said he wished me the best. That he forgave me for everything."
"I'm guessing you weren't calling him this morning begging for more forgiveness."
Her eyes find mine. There's shame in her expression. She's ashamed of whatever it is she was doing with Ryan that wasn't sex.
"Ally, you're killing me here."
"He said something in New York that really got to me. Something about how he really hoped you could handle how difficult it is to reach me." Her voice gets low and soft. "The last three months... you weren't exactly trying to reach me."
"I know. I'm sorry."
She shifts out of the sun so she's turned away from me. "I had to know if he meant it. If he really thought being with me was that miserable."
"And?"
"He said he'd never manipulate me. On purpose."
"I doubt he would call it manipulation."
"Can we not start about Ryan?" she asks. She shifts off the rock and unfurls on the ground.
She didn't sleep last night.
"Okay. We won't start." I lay down next to her. Push the hair from her eyes.
She looks more tired than anything.
"But I need to know why you didn't tell me about Ryan."
"I knew you would overreact." She stretches her arms over her head and closes her eyes.
"You know everything, don't you?"
"Luke... Don't start."
"Then tell me what the fuck is going on. Why are you talking to Ryan about our relationship?"
"I wasn't," she says. "I was talking to him about my relationship to him." She opens her eyes and looks straight at me. "As I recall, you spent a lot of time talking to Samantha, that's your ex-fiancée by the way, about your relationship with her. In fact, I recall her trying to kill herself and you rushing to her hospital room. You were with her for weeks."
One week. My ex-fiancée tried to kill herself, and I spent a week with her. To make sure she was okay. Eventually, she overstepped the boundaries of our friendship. Hell, she begged me to leave Alyssa for her. But I ended her friendship the minute she...
Okay. Shortly after she overstepped her boundaries.
"And?" I ask.
"I deserve a little bit of the same leeway."
I bite my lip. Maybe she's right, and she deserves a bit of leeway. She wanted closure with her ex, fine. But she should be talking to me about this.
"Okay. But if you're afraid I can't reach you, that I'm not willing to try, then why aren't you talking to me about that?"
She leans back, her eyes on the sky. "How could I?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Alyssa
Luke makes a few stabs at prying my feelings out of me, but I'm too damn tired to talk about it anymore. Yes, I have doubts, but doubts are normal. Yes, I neglected to tell him about Ryan, but...
I was right. He did overreact.
&
nbsp; And, yes, I called Ryan this morning. I called him secretly and I had no real intentions of telling Luke about it. But it wasn't really about Luke. It was about me and Ryan. And I should be allowed to talk to the person who was my best friend for my entire adolescence.
So I ask if we can save the conversation for when I've had more sleep, and I fall into a fitful nap on the top of a mountain. Luke holds me the entire time, probably terrified I'll roll off a cliff into oblivion. But we're already so close to oblivion. What's really the worst that could happen at this point?
After a quiet walk back to the car--mostly downhill, thank God--we drive in silence. It's well into the afternoon at this point, but I have no clue where we're going, what our plan is.
The narrow, windy roads seem to stretch forever. Thank God Luke is driving. I'd probably steer right off the side of the road. If I could even manage to keep my eyes open for long enough to drive.
Once we're back in civilization, Luke pulls into the parking lot of a mall. Of course, even in paradise, there are plentiful malls.
He looks me over, carefully, like I really am about to break. I'm sure I look like shit, like I really about to explode into a million pieces. But it's still damn obnoxious.
"How about an early dinner?" he offers.
I nod okay, and I don't bother to make a comment about how we're skipping lunch. The sarcasm would do nothing to convince him I'm healthy. That I'm worth reaching. That I'm really going to talk to him when my energy is better.
We stop at a Vietnamese noodle shop. It's a tiny place in a strip mall, packed with plastic tables and chairs. There are mirrors all over the walls, but I try to avoid them. I'm not at my best at the moment.
We take a seat at a table by the door. We're the only customers in the whole shop, but the server hangs back by the kitchen, chatting with one of the cooks.
Luke scans the menu. "They have Vietnamese iced coffee."
"I thought I was overcaffeinated and dehydrated."
"Has that ever stopped you before?"
His voice is soft, almost like he's forgotten everything I said on the hike, like it isn't killing him that I had some secret conversation with Ryan at the crack of dawn.
We pore over our menus for a while. I pick out something that won't overwhelm me--chicken and vegetables in some kind of white sauce.
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