“Hungover?” he asks, almost hopefully.
“Yeah,” I say, staring blankly at my hands on the counter. But that’s not only it. I don’t feel brittle because of the alcohol. I feel brittle because I know how close I am to losing everything. “I saw Samantha last night.” I glance up at him.
He stills. Turns to face me, brows knitting together with worry. “You didn’t wake me.”
“I fell asleep.”
“What happened? Did she do anything to you?”
I press my lips together. “Not really. But she said that next time she comes for me, she won’t be alone.”
I watch as his tries to take that in. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. “Perry…”
“I know.” I stare back at my hands. They don’t even feel like mine anymore. “She’s going to come back and she’s going to bring that curse with her. I don’t know what to do.”
“Bird,” he says, after a moment. “I can get in contact with Bird. With Roman.”
“I’m not possessed.”
“Yet.”
I shake my head and straighten up. “I’m going to spin class.”
His mouth drops open, nearly dropping the spatula. “Are you insane?!”
I laugh bitterly. “Yes. Clearly. I’m fucking insane, Dex. Don’t you get it? I don’t even know what’s real and what’s not real anymore! I don’t know if that really was Samantha or if it is some crazy manifestation of depression or my anger or what the hell it is.” I throw my arms out. “I mean, look at me. I don’t even know who I am! So I’m going to go to spin class, because that’s one normal thing I can do, one way I can just stop thinking and worrying, and maybe those endorphins will show up for me and for a little slice of time, I can pretend that everything is okay.”
Dex stares at me for a moment before he puts the spatula down. “You should probably eat first,” he says, gesturing to the bacon.
“Not hungry.”
“Please,” he says. “You’re losing weight.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes, because there’s no way in hell that I’m too skinny, but I get what he’s saying. I get that he’s worried. Beyond worried.
“Fine,” I say, but only to appease him. “I’ll eat first. We have a bit of time, I guess.”
The bacon does smell good and it tastes good too, as do the fried eggs, but I only manage a few bites before I give the rest of the bacon to the dog and leave the table to get changed into my workout gear.
Dex walks with me to the gym, always my shadow, choosing to do weights while I take my class. I’m not able to give it my all as I normally do, but it doesn’t really matter. I just want to blank out for a bit. Eventually the endorphins appear, just enough to take the edge off, and I climb off the bike a sweaty mess.
Of course, there’s no way in hell I’m taking a shower at the gym this time.
So I wait around, walking on the treadmill until Dex is done lifting the million pounds as he normally does, both impressing and pissing off the steroid jocks who watch him in awe, and then we leave.
On the walk back I’m only feeling marginally better. The weather turned moody and misty while we were in there, and I swear I feel it swirling around in my lungs, turning into black smoke. It takes everything in me to try and hang onto those endorphins that are quickly fading.
Dex holds my hand the whole entire way, letting me know he’s there, that he’s not letting go of me. It helps. I keep looking over my shoulder, thinking I’ll see Samantha and her demon, but I don’t. The world around us seems normal, even though I know it’s not.
Then we pass by a young couple pushing a baby stroller, cooing and smiling at their child as they go.
It takes everything inside me not to burst into tears. I feel that emptiness inside me returning, scooping me out until I’m carved bare. I have to bite my lip until it bleeds in order to hold it together.
And I look up at Dex.
He’s not looking at the couple, or the stroller, or the baby.
He’s looking straight ahead with the most determined look in his eyes, a look that sends chills through me, that fills my hollow places with fear that I won’t be able to shake.
We get into the apartment and I know I have to face it head on.
I hang up my coat and watch as Dex goes straight into the kitchen to start cleaning the frying pan.
I take in a deep breath.
“So should we start looking for houses today?” I ask him, trying to keep my voice light.
I watch him carefully as he pauses for a moment before continuing to scrub. “Not sure that’s such a good idea.”
I feel like there’s a fist over my heart, threatening to squeeze.
“Why not?” I ask, coming over to him.
He pinches his eyes shut for a moment, breathing in deep through his nose. Swallows. “Perry…”
“Why not?”
He brings his eyes over to mine and I can see how hard he’s trying to be patient with me. “We need to put that on hold. You understand that. I know you do.”
I shake my head, giving him a shaky smile. “But you said yesterday you wanted to sell this place and—”
“I know what I said,” he says quickly, eyes flashing. “That was yesterday. This is today.”
“But nothing has changed.”
If looks could kill. “You don’t remember last night? The things you said?”
“In response to the thing you did!” I suddenly yell, the words ripping through me. Fat Rabbit hops off the couch and runs into the den. “I knew this wasn’t over! I could feel it!”
“It’s far from over. You aren’t well, Perry,” he says, words breaking softly, his eyes searching my face. “You’re losing yourself, and on top of it, we have a fucking witch who is coming for you with her demon in tow. House hunting is the least of my concerns right now. That shit has to wait.”
“But change could be good. It could fix everything.”
“It will fix nothing.” His tone is pure steel. “You know that. We need to focus on you right now, not the future, not anything else but you and getting you well, making sure that you can’t hurt yourself, that she can’t hurt you either.”
I shake my head, not understanding. “What makes you think I’d hurt myself?” I ask quietly.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I know he’s thinking back to when he saw the dead version of me trying to pull myself into the bathtub. Was that a ghost of me from the future, a me that killed herself? Was that Samantha in disguise? Or was that my own subconscious brought to life?
What if Dex is right, and I’m as dangerous to myself as Samantha is?
“I’m really, really worried about you,” he goes on. “I don’t know what is going on in that head of yours, you’ve closed yourself off, I can see that you’re drowning in it. You’re scared, and I’m scared too, okay? I’m fucking so scared. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, I don’t know if I can save you, save us. It’s like every minute that goes by I feel like I’m closer to losing you.”
“Maybe we could just…go away somewhere,” I say feebly.