JENNIE

I come back to reality, slowly, unwillingly, but happy Lisa's lying next to me.

"Hey." She smiles, kissing me on my lips.

I laugh—it's a lazy sound, not wanting to move. My body is slightly sore, but in the best way.

"I wish you weren't leaving tomorrow," I whisper while running my fingertips over one of the branches on her tattoo. The tree is dark, haunting and intricate. I wonder: If Lisa were getting this tattoo now, would she get the dead tree again? Or would there be just a few leaves on the branches, now that she's happier, more lively?

"Me, too," she answers simply.

I can't mask the desperation behind my plea when I say "Then don't."

Lisa's fingers spread across my back, and she presses my naked body closer to her. "I don't want to, but I know you're only saying that because I just made you come repeatedly."

A horrified scoff falls from my lips. "That's not true!" Lisa's body shakes gently with an amused chuckle. "It really isn't the only reason . . . Maybe we could be with each other on the weekends for a little while and see where it goes from there?"

"You expect me to drive here every weekend?"

"Not every one. I'll come there, too." I tilt to my head to look into her eyes. "It's working for us so far."

"Jennie . . ." She sighs, "I already told you how I felt about the long-distance shit." My eyes flicker to the ceiling fan slowly spinning around and around in the dimness of the room. Rachel is pouring marinara sauce into Monica's handbag on the television screen.

"Yes, yet here you are," I challenge her.

She sighs and tugs gently at the ends of my hair, forcing me to look at her once more. "Touché."

"Well, I think there's some sort of compromise that can be reached here, don't you?"

"What's your offer?" she asks softly, briefly closing her eyes to take a deep breath.

"I don't know exactly . . . give me a moment," I say.

What exactly am I offering her? It's in the best interest of both of our sanities to stay somewhat distant from each other for now. As much as my heart forgets all the terrible things that Lisa and I have been through in the past, my brain won't allow me to give up all of my remaining dignity.

I am in Seattle, following my dream, alone, with no apartment because of Lisa's possessive nature and the unwillingness of both of us to compromise over even the most trivial details.

"I don't know, really," I finally say when I can't come up with a solid suggestion.

"Well, do you want me around still? Just for the weekends, at least?" she asks. Her fingers twist and twirl my hair.

"Yes."

"Every weekend?"

"Mostly." I smile.

"Do you want to talk on the phone each day like we did this week?"

"Yes." I loved the simple way Lisa and I spoke on the phone, neither of us even noticing the minutes and hours as they ticked by.

"So everything will be the same as it was this week, then. I don't know about that," she says.

"Why not?" It's seemed to work for her so far, so why would she object to continuing the same way?

"Because, Jennie, you're here in Seattle without me, and we aren't actually together, you could see someone else or meet someone—"

"Lisa." I lift myself onto my elbow to look down at her. Her eyes bore into mine, and a lock of my unruly black hair falls onto her face. Without breaking eye contact or even so much as a blink, her fingers move to tuck the fallen hair back behind my ear. "I'm not planning on seeing or meeting anyone else. All I want out of this is some independence and for both of us to be able to communicate."

"Why is it so important to you to be independent all of a sudden?" she asks. Her thumb and forefinger glide across the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. If she's trying to distract me, she's succeeding.

Despite her gentle touch and burning jade eyes, I continue in my quest to make her understand where I'm coming from. "It's not a sudden thing. I've mentioned this to you before. I also hadn't noticed just how dependent on you I was until recently, and I don't like it. I don't like being that way."

"I do," she says quietly.

"I know you do, but I don't," I say, refusing to allow the confidence in my voice to falter. A part of me pats myself on the back, then rolls her eyes at me because she isn't buying it.

"Well, how do I play into this independent shit?"

"Just keep doing what you're doing now. I have to be able to make decisions without thinking about having your permission or what you would think about them."

"You definitely don't think about having my permission now, or you wouldn't do half the shit you do."

I don't want to have a fight. "Lisa," I warn her. "This is important to me. I need to be able to think for myself. We should be partners . . . equals, neither of us should hold more . . . power than the other." I struggle to find the words, sifting through my mind for a better way to explain what I want . . . what I need. I have to do this. This is part of who I am, or who I want to be. I'm working hard to find myself, to find out who I am on my own, with or without Lisa.

"Equals? Power? You obviously have more power here. I mean, come on."

"It's not only for me . . . it's been good for you, too. You know it has."

"I guess so, but what does that say about us that we can only get along if we're in different cities?" she asks . . . putting into words the question that's been nagging at me since she arrived.

"Well, we'll figure that out later."

"Sure." She stubbornly rolls her eyes but softens the reaction by kissing my forehead.

"Remember what you said about there being a difference between loving someone and not being able to live without them?" I ask.

"I don't ever want to hear that statement again, really."

I swipe her damp hair off of her forehead. "You're the one who said it," I remind her. My fingertips graze along the outline of her nose, down to her swollen lips. "I've been thinking about it so much since then," I admit.

Lisa groans in annoyance. "Why?"

"Because you said it for a reason, didn't you?"

"Out of anger, that's all. I didn't have a clue what it even meant. I was just being a dick."

"Well, either way, I keep thinking about it." I gently tap on the tip of her nose.

"Well, I wish you wouldn't, because there's no difference between the two." Her words fall slowly between us, her tone thoughtful.

"How so?"

She gives me a small smile. "I can't live without you and I love you: they go hand in hand. If I could live without you, I wouldn't be as in love with you as I am, and I clearly cannot be far from you."

"I'll say." I bite back the giggle that's threatening to emerge.

She notices my lightness. "I know you aren't talking about me . . . You nearly busted your ass running to tackle me when I arrived." Even in the darkness of the room, I can see her bright, widening smile, and my breath catches as I take in the raw beauty of her. When she behaves this way, unguarded and natural, there's nothing better in my world.

"I knew you were going to torture me for that!" I swat at her bare chest, and her hand flies up to catch my wrist between her long fingers.

"Are you trying to get rough with me again? Look what happened last time." She lifts her head off the mattress, and the heat begins to spread down my body, resting between my already sore thighs.

"Can you stay one more day?" I dodge her remark about being rough. I need to know if I'm going to have more time with her tomorrow so we can spend the remainder of the morning hours . . . well . . . getting rough. "Please," I add, snuggling my head into the crook of her neck.

"Fine," she says. I can feel her jaw move as she smiles against my forehead. "But only if you blindfold me again."

In one quick motion, she wraps her arms around my back and flips my body under her, and seconds later we're lost in each other . . . again and again . . .