Sleeping helps a little. I'm able to get up and shower. To stand under running water until there's nothing left of grey soap, and then to sink into a burning bath, closing my eyes to try and sleep some more.
I pretend I'm back in the woods, alone in his cabin. Sunk naked in his tub. Waiting for him to come home.
I could go there, couldn't I?
My weak legs wouldn't make it, but I could ask Alice to take me.
He didn't exactly say to stay out of his house. Just the shop and the shelter…
But he drew a line.
It doesn't matter where he goes.
He forged a barrier to keep us apart, and I had no idea such a thing was even possible. No man has ever banished me from himself before.
Caustic regret racks my body from the inside out, so thickly bitter it borders insufferable.
Every minute I spent in Shoot the Moon after that first night was a transgression. Every step I took into the rescue, every drink and sway and whatever else I did at the nightclub was a breach against what I am.
No other man has ever exiled me because I've never pursued another man in waking life.
This torment is my own fault.
It wrings me out as I realize it, twisting tendons and sticking pin after pin into my heart, punishing me with beat after broken beat.