Dying For You by MaryJanice Davidson

Author:MaryJanice Davidson [Davidson, MaryJanice]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: C429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 9781101575062
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2012-08-06T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

She waited until he fell asleep, and left. She couldn’t watch him leave. If she did, she would weaken, beg him to stay, happily watch as he indifferently starved himself to death, had a heart attack from potassium deficiency, toppled over in bed, and suffocated because he had no one to watch his body. Whatever, just die and be with me. Except there were no guarantees that he would be with her. And just because her life had been cut short, why should his?

No, she wanted him to live for a hundred years, five hundred, just like she wanted Cathy and Jack and their baby to live for a hundred years. A hundred years at least.

She was going over the same ground again and again (literally; she was on the south side of the island again) and tried to think of something else. Anything else.

She closed her eyes and thought of Tom. His smile, his rare beautiful smile. His long fingers. His eyes, so wounded and so bright. His skinny legs and bony arms; God, he was scrawny. In her heart’s eye, she loved it all, even the way he nibbled on his hangnails when he was distracted.

Tom. You’d better be drinking a milkshake right now. You’d better be—well, if not happy, at least resigned. Happiness will come. It’s got to. It—

She opened her eyes.

And managed to just stop herself from screaming in surprise.

The beach was gone. The ocean was gone. She was in someone’s living room.

She looked around wildly. Yes, the beach was gone. Yes: couch, coffee table, end tables, chairs…this was a living room. She walked over to the window and looked out: traffic streamed by below. And—she knew this place. This was Commonwealth Avenue. Boston, Massachusetts.

Boston? But that was where—

She heard keys jingling, locks clacking, and turned around in time to see the door swing open and Tom walk inside, white-faced with fatigue.

Their eyes locked. They spoke in less than romantic unison: “What the hell are you doing here?”

“This is my apartment,” he said, dropping his bag. On his foot, she noticed, but he didn’t notice. “This is where you told me to go.”

“But—but—but—but—” She had made him go. She had insisted he set them free. And now she was free. Free to go where she wanted.

What had he said, what had his unique vision of the afterlife been?

He slammed the door, curled into Lotus-Tom right there in the living room.

(It’s whatever you can imagine.)

Jumped out of Lotus-Tom, raced to her. Kissed her until she thought they’d both topple through the window.

(If you see harps and angels, that’s where you go. If you see hell, that’s where you go. If you think you have unfinished business, you stay here.)

“I love you, I love you,” he was saying, raining kisses on her face, “I love you, but I’m going to choke you for sending me away, I love you.”

(The afterlife—it can be anything. Anything at all.)

“I’ve got some bad news for you,” she said, kissing him back.

He held her at arm’s length.

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