“Uh, video games? Watching movies? I don’t know, but notsleeping together.”
She looks at me like I can’t possibly be serious. “Think of it from Sud’s perspective. Why else would you be lying to him? What would you think if he was making excuses to you andsecretly sleeping over at some girl’s place? I can guarantee it wouldn’t be that they’re playing Uno all night.”
I wilt in my chair. “But I’m not sleeping at someone’s place. I’m sleeping at work,” I say earnestly.
Sud called you naïve, but maybe you’re just damn stupid.
Becoming more distressed by the second, I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at it.
Dead. Of course it is.
Jumping up, I hurry to my bedroom to charge it, calling over my shoulder, “Why didn’t you guys tell me before that he’s been coming by here looking for me?”
“Who can get a hold of you these days?” Peach calls back.
Shit, I’ve got to fix this.
It’s like I’ve been living in a bubble, unaware of everything going on around me except for work and practice.
When my phone doesn’t light up when I connect it to the charger, I discover the latter has come unplugged from the strip, and I get on my hands and knees to plug it in again.
Sud’s voice behind me jerks me to attention, and my head nearly collides with the corner of the nightstand.
Turning, I rise to my feet to greet him, watching as his gaze moves over me, absorbing my disheveled hair and the wrinkled clothes he undoubtedly recognizes from the day before.
“Hi,” I say awkwardly. “I just tried to call you, but my phone is dead.”
Sud doesn’t look like he believes me, which I guess I deserve. “Been out all night?” he asks. He’s pale, dark shadows circle his eyes, and he looks so damn tired.
Full of regret, I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms tightly around his middle and burying my face in his chest. I hate what he’s been thinking. I hate myself for thinking that lying to him was the right thing to do.
When he doesn’t immediately hug me back, cold devastation runs through me, but, selfish as always, I don’t pull away. I need him.
“I’ve been so stupid,” I murmur brokenly into his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
At my first stifled sob, Sud finally pulls me closer, and the old feeling of comfort and safety I was longing for chases the tension out of my body, giving it over to the worry, fear, and shame that I’ve lived with for the past couple of weeks.
“Don’t cry, Noi,” Sud says softly, stroking my back as I struggle to get a hold on my emotions.
I’ve hurt him, and that hurts me. And the fact that he’s concerned about me when I don’t deserve it makes me feel even worse. And I’m just sofucking exhausted.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I say between slobbery gulps of air. I can’t remember a time when crying didn’t mean losing control, and I don’t want that. I’ve been crying every damn night, wringing the emotion out of me so I can pour it into my acting. I’m so fucking sick of crying.
“You don’t have to be sorry for how you feel. Just don’t shut me out anymore, okay?” Sud says, softly raking his fingers through my hair.
Too many nights without enough sleep, too much stress and worry over work—it’s all caught up to me. I imagine this is what a nervous breakdown feels like. Sud’s the only thing holding me up, just like he’s done most of my life.
Without letting go of me, Sud manages to maneuver us the short distance to my bed. He sits down, pulling me onto his lap like he would Ten. I honestly think Ten would’ve handled things better than I have in this situation. Tilting up my chin, Sud studies my face, which I can only imagine is red, screwed up, and covered in snot and tears. My shoulders continue to shake with sobs as I stare up at him.
“Everything’s okay, Mee Noi.”
That makes me cry harder—that he put the Mee with the Noi. He never does that.
“You’re angry at me, and I don’t b-blame you.” My voice, already hoarse, is now failing me. I sound pitiful. Sud tries to pull me back to look at me, but I tighten my hold on him, probably strangling him. But he doesn’t complain, just strokes my head, rocking me gently, bringing to mind all the nights he did the same thing when I awoke from nightmares and crawled into bed with him. As I cry myself dry, my eyes get heavy, and I wish I could close them and just go to sleep, wrapped in Sud’s comforting embrace. But I have a lot of explaining to do. And we have to be at work in an hour.
I moan, sounding like a dying animal.
I hear the front door open and shut in the next room, followed by the fading voices of my friends in the hallway. They probably decided that Sud and I need some privacy.