Free Dear Tabitha by Trudy Stiles Page A

me. “You left me and you weren’t going to give me a chance to tell you everything I’m thinking.” He looks upset as he crosses the distance between us. He’s so close that I can feel his warm breath on my face.
    “Alex, it’s late. We’ve both had too much to drink tonight. I don’t think it’s a good idea that you’re here.”
    He’s drunker than I am, and that’s saying something. He needs to go before he says or does something that he’s going to regret. I look into his eyes and realize that I’m the one that might do something that neither of us is ready for. I bite my lip and look away.
    “No. You need to hear what I’m going to say, so sit down and listen.” He gently grabs my shoulders and pushes me back toward the couch. His touch is warm, and I relax into his hold.
    It’s a little comical how drunk he is, and he’s determined to speak his mind, so I sit.
    He sits across from me, leaning forward while trying to maintain eye contact with me. “Do you know that I’m proud of you, Tabs? I’m so fucking proud. You became someone … different after I left. But different is good.”
    My heart skips a beat when I realize he isn’t here to lace into me. He’s proud of me. He repeats his comment from the bar earlier and now it’s finally sinking in.
    His glazed eyes find mine and he smiles. “I’m sorry, really I am. I don’t know what caused you to do what you did with him , but I know that you’re not that person now. Are you?” His voice hitches when he asks me that question.
    Absolutely not. I would never do what I did to either of them ever again. I won’t ever allow myself to become emotionally dependent on another person. I’ve learned how to be strong, even if it meant that Alex had to leave me. That gave me the desire to be strong for me.
    “No, I’m not that person anymore,” I say quietly.
    “Do you …” He stops himself. “ Could you still fall in love?” He blinks and looks down at the floor.
    Whoa. Where is this going?
    “Um, I don’t know.” I want to be able to love again, but I’m afraid to open my heart.
    “Oh,” he whispers. He leans forward onto his knees and looks around the room.
    “Who’s that?” He raises his hand and points clumsily toward Emily’s picture. Shit!
    Shit. Shit. Shit.
    I suddenly panic. What do I say? I can not and will not have this conversation now. Holy shit.
    He starts swaying in his seat and his eyes begin to narrow. He looks like he’s about to pass out. He leans back onto the couch and pulls his legs up. “I’m just going to lay down for a minute,” he slurs.
    Shit.
    “Alex, wait, you can’t stay here,” I say but he doesn’t even hear me. He’s snoring before his head hits the couch pillow. Oh no! I don’t want him to sleep here. He can’t be here. “Alex?” I say again, hoping he’ll wake up.
    He doesn’t respond. What am I going to do? I could call and ask Dax to come get him, but I look at the clock and see it’s almost one in the morning. I realize that there’s nothing that I can do at this point but to make him comfortable.
    I go to the hall closet and get a pillow and blanket. As I stand over him, I see the man who has had my heart for years. He’s still as beautiful as ever. His face has softened now that he’s asleep, and I want to trace the stubble on his chin with my fingers. I long to touch him again and feel his hands on me. He takes a deep breath and I watch his chest rise and fall. I want to squeeze next to him and place my head over his heart. I want to know that it still beats for me, like mine has for him all of these years.
    I lean over and carefully lift his head to slide the pillow underneath. He doesn’t stir. I move down toward his feet to unlace and remove his black Chucks. Touching him is making my pulse quicken. I cover him up with the blanket, allowing my hands to linger near his chest. “Oh, Alex,” I whisper. I move back toward his face and lightly touch his cheek. God, I’ve