Wednesday, 17 December 2014

There's no such thing as small talk. Not here. Not ever.

You... He points at me with his chopsticks, are possibly the worst wife in the world. 

No. If I was I would have spent all your money gambling or been poisoning your food. 

He looks into the container of rice and makes this ridiculous expression of horror before becoming serious again. So repeatedly breaking my heart doesn't count?

You started it. 

I was twenty years old. I made a mistake. 

Well, that's what I'm doing. Making mistakes, Lochlan.

You're diluting your affections to protect yourself.

Yes, that too.

I'm not going to die, Bridget. 

Bullshit. Everyone dies. We start the march the minute we're born. You've almost bit it a few times now. 

I'm still here. 

I can't go through that again.

What everybody? What happens when Caleb dies?

You do your happy dance. 


Shut up. 

That's my point. 

You know what I'm most scared of? Not that someone's going to die, but that someone's going to die and I'll go to someone I love and he'll flatly refuse to help me when I need him most. 

That's me. The lightweight. The one who can't help you. 

You could have but you wouldn't. 

I was reeling. I couldn't function. 

Poor baby. 

Bridget, don't. 

Not like Jake was your friend. You hated his guts.

No, he hated mine. I tried. I tried to give him what he wanted, what you wanted. I kept my distance. 


Yeah. Mostly. (He stares at me. Right into me. I can't even breathe when he does that.) Maybe I'm there when you need me after all. 

What if you're not?

What if I am? 

Then my dreams will have come true. 

I hope so, because that's what I've been aiming for all my life, Peanut.