A/N: Hey guys! So for all of you who have not read the book I will briefly give you a summary of how things are right now in Pat's life.

Tiffany wrote a lot of letters to Pat pretending to be Nikki but eventually confessed. Jake (Pat's bro) is married to Caitlin and currently hates Tiffany for lying to Pat. Pat was attacked on the streets (potentially for swearing to God) and broke his leg. Nikki remarried and now lives in Maryland with her husband Philip (the guy you saw Pat beat up in the movie) and their kids. Now this is all really brief but I hope it helps you to understand this chapter and maybe even the last one. Oh and btw, Kenny G. is the saxophonist that composed the famous Pat wedding song.

Enjoy!

HOW GOOD

AND HOW RIGHT
THIS FEELS.
February 10, 2007

The next couple of days are a blur. I don't feel the need of waking up so early in the morning to do some weight lifting, but I do keep my running routine and so does Tiffany. We run every morning like we used to: none of us saying a word. But since my leg is weakened from the accident we only run five miles instead of the ten we used to run before. She's okay with it, running only five miles. She doesn't question me or complain about the reduced amount of miles. She simply goes along with it, meeting me every morning in front of my house and running by my side the whole way. It's not until we had ran a couple of miles the first day when I realized how much I like this, running with Tiffany, how much I've missed it and how much I don't ever want it to end. Because I don't want Tiffany to leave me nor do I want to leave her either. And now that I know I need her it just adds one more thing to the list of reasons why I should never stop running with her, even if it's just for five miles. So I still wake up at six am and run, but now when I run I have this weird urges that make me want to take Tiffany into my arms and kiss her forehead or put my arm around her like I did when we were both on the field or something of the sort.

The third day we run I see the jacket I lent to Tiffany on the floor in front of my house door. I pick it up, put it on and run with it. I am no longer wearing a garbage bag. Tiffany meets me when I run by her house and then we both run our usual five miles. But this time when we're almost finished I decide I want to go to Knight's Park and Tiffany follows me. I lead her deeper into the park and sit down on a bench near the big fountain where little kids usually play in the summer when it's hot. It is empty now. Tiffany sits next to me and we both stare at the fountain without saying a word.

After some ten minutes I start to feel uncomfortable. Something is bugging me though I do not know what. First I think it's the cold and that I should probably head home, but when I rub my hands together I notice that these are not cold at all. Then I think it's because I am restless and just need to stand up and return to running again, but when I actually decide to stand up, I realize that I don't want to keep on running. I've run enough for today. So I shift position over and over again not knowing what to do to shake off this uneasy feeling of emptiness. It is the same feeling I had on Sunday evening when I came back from walking Tiffany home. The same feeling that stayed with me all throughout the night and the one I still woke to this morning. I am looking at my hands when abruptly these close on themselves as if holding onto something invisible. I look at Tiffany, she is staring at the grass, and then I get this weird impulse of putting my arms around her, just to hold her and tell her that everything will be alright even though I do not know myself what is everything and if it will be alright or not. I just know I need to hold Tiffany like I held her in my basement and on the soccer field. I am having an internal fight on whether I should take Tiffany in my arms or not when all of a sudden she is looking at me intensely. She says nothing but I know what she is thinking so I stretch my arm and before I know it she is in my arms with her face buried in my chest and her arms tightly tied around my torso. I put both my arms around her body and kiss her scalp a couple of times. And then I think of how good and how right this feels. It is bizarre but slowly I am becoming so much more detached of Nikki and now the woman my arms crave is not longer my ex wife. It is Tiffany.

However, just when I think that we will be like this for at least one hour, Tiffany stands up and runs back to the main road.

"Hey! Tiffany!" I shout. Rapidly I am on my feet running after her but she already has a head start over me so as much as I try I cannot catch up on her. I follow her from a distance and once we're back on the neighborhood see how she runs straight back to her house and then closes the door behind her. I slowly walk up to her entrance and bang the door a couple of times at the same time as I shout out her name loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. But despite all my efforts Tiffany's door remains shut.

"What's your goddamn problem!?" I say as I bang my fist against her door one last time before finally giving in. I am angry at Tiffany for abandoning me like this and for saying that she needs me and then making a demonstration of how much she doesn't. This is fucked up. I need some time for myself; I need to sort out my feelings and to come to terms with my emotions towards Tiffany. So initiate the run towards my house without looking back not even once.

In the cloud room I have chosen the brown seat because I am not feeling as depressed as I have before, but the more I think about what happened between Tiffany and me the more I think I should have chosen the black couch instead. Ever since she so mysteriously disappeared on Wednesday she hasn't showed up to our running routine and I haven't seen her around nor was she with Veronica when I stopped by her house to say hi to my best friend Ronnie.

"Is everything alright, Pat? You seem distant" Cliff asks me with his Indian accent.

"I don't know" I reply, with all honesty.

"Tell me what is happening."

"I can't doc" I say.

"You know better than to call me doc. But I can see that something bad has happened because you don't normally address me as your doctor. Tell me Pat. I am listening."

"I can't, Cliff." I repeat, using his name this time.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Because I don't know what's happening."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what's happening, Cliff. Everything is fucked up and I cannot longer make sense of it."

"Your mother has told me you have been seeing Tiffany. Is this what you probably are confused about?"

"Well…" I think for a moment before speaking. I don't know if Cliff's opinion will still be biased or not, but I decide to give it a shot. "Yes. I don't know what's happening between us."

"Are you still in love with Nikki?"

His question takes me for surprise. I actually take a few seconds before answering. I was not expecting this let alone from Cliff.

"No… I think." I reply.

"You think?"

"I mean, no." I quickly amend my response. "I am not in love with her anymore. I am sure. That's old movie."

"Old movie? Please, explain." Cliff sits back on the black couch and looks at me expectantly. I remember I haven't told anyone but Tiffany about the difference between old movie and new movie, so I explain to Cliff. When I finish I notice his face has not changed.

"So, let me get this straight. The simple sight of a happy Nikki with her new husband and their children makes you… happy. Am I right? And that was enough for you to move on and roll the credits of your old so-called movie. Correct?" He asks me.

"Yes." I reply.

"You do know what you did there is illegal, right? And is enough evidence for me to increase your medication dose. Am I wrong?"

"No Cliff, you are not."

"But you seem very relaxed about it."

I sigh. "I knew it was dangerous and illegal, but I don't regret it because if I hadn't gone to see her I would not have been able to move on and start living my new life, like I am now."

"If you had not gone to see her you wouldn't have realized that you don't love her anymore." Cliff says, not as a question but as a statement.

I hesitate before answering but finally reply "Yes. You are right." Some uncomfortable minutes pass in which Cliff looks at me with a piercing look and says nothing and does nothing else apart from to look at me. At last I cannot stand it anymore and ask him "You won't increase my medication dose, right Cliff?" and he replies "No, I won't." And with that he stops looking at me and focuses his vision on his hands.

"Tell me about Tiffany then. What is it that's bothering you." He says, casually. I feel so much more relaxed now knowing that whatever happens my meds won't change so I open up entirely to Cliff.

"She's acting weird, Cliff. I don't understand. On Sunday, I decided to meet her at a soccer field and she came. In there she told me, and I quote, 'I need you, Pat Peoples.' And then kissed my neck as she cried. And yes I told her I needed her too, but I didn't realize how true that was until later on. But you know what happened in between? We were at my house when I casually mentioned that she could stay over because there was a fucking snowstorm outside, and then she suddenly says she needs to go, so I walk her home and on my way back it hits me that I need Tiffany. So we retake our running routine and on Wednesday when we're at the park both sitting on a bench, she hugs me tightly and I think, 'hey this feels great you know? I want to stay like this for at least one hour.' But you know what she does next? She stands up and runs back to her house at full speed. And I haven't seen her since. So how do explain all that, huh? The way I see it is that she's got some serious problems and maybe she just wants to play around with me, because one minute she's all sweet and loving and the next she treats me like I'm a fucking stranger. I mean is that even normal?" I stop talking and refill my lungs with the oxygen that I've used talking too fast to Cliff. He looks at me thoughtfully for at least some good five minutes before finally saying something.

"Have you tried talking with her about this?" He asks.

"Talking to her? Hello! She's the one that won't even answer her door! How do you expect me to talk with her about anything if she doesn't even let me see her? Do you want me to shout it out from one side of the door?" I am annoyed with Cliff because I thought he would understand why I haven't done anything so far about Tiffany's behavior.

"You have to be persistent. Maybe after the fiftieth time that you knock on her door she will actually open and then you can talk with her."

"What?" I ask, confused. The idea looks crazy and impossible, not the average thing a therapist would say to their mind-fucked patients. "Okay so let's say she opens the door. What am I going to talk with her about?"

"Well, maybe there is something she'd like you to know." I stare blankly at Cliff. Something she wants me to know? What is this rubbish and why is Cliff saying it like he already knows what it is? I don't like it. I don't like it at all. My breathing gets heavier and my chest starts to increase and decrease very rapidly. I can feel myself about to snap but I don't want that to happen because it has been so long since I last lost it so instead I close my eyes and silently count to ten like I used to do before when someone mentioned Kenny G. When I don't feel the need to explode anymore I open my eyes and face my therapist.

"I don't understand what you mean, Cliff." I tell him.

"Talk to her, Pat." He says, before he signals to the clock and makes me realize our time together is up.

The next time I wake up I remain in my bed for another good two hours before ultimately getting up. It's Saturday. Normally I would go down to the living room to watch some football but now the season it's over and I don't feel like watching any other sport so I decide to do some weight lifting instead. I go down to the basement ignoring the questioning calls of Mom and start my old routine with the Stomach Master 6000. It is eight o'clock in the morning, past my running time with Tiffany, but given the behavior she's shown during these last few days I don't feel any worse by not running so early. Now don't get me wrong, I am still going to run because I don't want to regain the weight I lost during apart time, especially since Mom has been cooking this delicious crabby snacks on an almost daily basis –which, by the way, leads me to think she is happy for some reason— but perhaps I will run later on or maybe even in the evening right before dinner so that I can have some relaxing in the meantime.

Once I finish trying out all the exercise equipment I do some push ups until my back rebels with that stabbing feeling and my arms feel full of burns and about to give in. I think this will be enough for today if we include the five miles that I will run later. I sit up on the floor and stare blankly at my weight bench. Something is not right. Suddenly the image of Tiffany in her running clothes pops into my mind and I cannot shake it off. As much as I try to erase it she is still there, with her pink running shoes and her blue t-shirt, waiting for me to come out and run with her. And then it gets creepier as my therapist's voice echoes in my head and it starts to fill my thoughts until I cannot longer think about anything else. "Talk to her, Pat." The voice says. "There is something she'd like you to know. Talk to her. You have to be persistent. She will open the door. Talk to her. There is something she'd like you to know."

At last I cannot stand it anymore, get up and go out of the basement straight outside. Unlike in my vision of Tiffany, she is not in front of my house waiting for me to come and run with her. I am confused and annoyed with myself and with Cliff for saying such obscure words but I know I must do something so I decide to run all the way to Tiffany's house. At first I think I am being stupid by coming here because clearly there is no one inside, but then I see the almost invisible light coming from the second floor and that's when I start hitting my hands against the door.

"Tiffany!" I shout. "Tiffany I know you're in there, please come outside or let me in." Nothing happens.

"Tiffany, please, I need to talk with you, please open the door." Again, nothing. I hear some movement inside, someone is clearly in and listening to what I'm saying. And that's when I lose it.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" I say as I take a trash can in my hands and throw it against the wall, spilling all its content around. "First you tell me you need me and now you're avoiding me like I'm some kind of fucking stranger. You don't answer my calls or my knocks on your door and don't even come outside or let me see you in any way. I mean what the fuck is all this about?! If you were just planning on playing with me you should have told me earlier and save me the many hours I've spent worrying about you!"I kick the trash can one more time before letting out an angry shout of frustration and then turning away from the door. I start to make my way back home when I hear the door open and then Tiffany shouts.

"Hey!" I turn and face her.

"Have you thought about how maybe I'm just really scared to lose you?"

I'm too shocked to speak.

"Have you thought about how I'm just too scared to wake up and find you're fucking gone like Tommy was, or that I'm afraid that I will look at you and your eyes will be on some other woman instead of on me? Have you thought about how that makes me feel, Pat? Huh?"

Words fail me.

"So yeah," she goes on. "Maybe I'm being a bitch because I want to make sure that you won't fuck me over like other men did when my husband died; or because I want to be ready when that happens." She finishes talking and then we are both staring at each other.

Conflicting emotions pierce through me as I think for the right words to say, but none come. At last I decide to let my actions speak for themselves and walk toward Tiffany. When I am close enough, I take her hands in mine like I did a week ago in my basement, lean in and press my right cheek against the left side of her face. I can feel the rate of her breathing increasing. Finally, I whisper into her left ear "I will never fuck you over, Tiffany" before I let go of her, turn away and make my way back home.