She could do that. Sips of water, not the whole glass, but at least it would mean she could quench her endless thirst.
“I don’t know,” Sadie whispered, staring down at her hands as if her answer were hiding there. “I don’t know what I want. I’m so sorry.”
Struck sick, Anne stared at the frightened woman next to her and saw, with growing comprehension, that the deep wound Fred had left behind was still unstitched.
Panic surged again, a firehose. She wrapped her arms around her middle, holding herself together. “So, until you figure out what you want, we’ll just go about our days like nothing’s changed. I’ll say, ‘Hey, Sadie, looks like our property taxes are going up.’ Or, ‘Hey, Sadie, there’s some misdelivered mail for you over on the coffee table.’ Except the entire time, I’ll be thinking about how you’re the only person who’s ever made me come. Is that your plan?”
“Anne—”
“I’ll do it!” The words burst out, and the terrified sound of her own desperation was humiliating. “If that’s all I can get, I’ll do it. Somehow. Even though you’ll laugh, or you’ll smile at me, like you always do, and I’ll—” Anne pressed her fist to her chest, hard, and her voice cracked. “I’ll feel it right here, like I always do. Except now I’ll know what I’m feeling.”
“Whatareyou feeling?” An odd note in Sadie’s voice.
Anne’s arms dropped, along with her stomach. That tone was an ugly forecast.
“Let me be more precise. What do you feel aboutme? Emotionally?”
“I don’t understand,” Anne managed. Hadn’t she been clear? “I want you. I need you. I can’t live without you. In every way there is, I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. I’ve told you multiple times. I’ll keep telling you, if that’s what you need.”
“You want me.” From the look in Sadie’s eyes, that wasn’t the right answer. “What else?”
Anne was failing a test she hadn’t studied for and didn’t know would be required. What else was there, when all of her wanting was eating up her bones? “Just tell me what I’m supposed to say! I’ll say it. Anything.”
Sadie turned her face away and was silent for a long moment. Then she said, so quietly, “I think I’m being very unfair. I can see that now. You’re right.”
A small, unexpected spark of hope kindled in Anne’s chest. “I am?”
“We can’t go on like usual, in each other’s houses at all hours. Not while I can’t tell you what you want to hear from me.”
Despair slammed hard against Anne’s hope and crushed it into dust.
“We need space to think, too, don’t we? Not just time. Listen”—the word was hoarse—“I’m flying out tomorrow morning. Barnard. You remember?”
The campus visit Sadie hadn’t told her about until two days ago. Yes. Anne remembered.
“After the interview, I think I should stay in New York for a while. I’m not sure yet for how long.”
Anne managed to stagger up from her chair, holding onto the frame to keep her balance. Of all the possible next steps Sadie could’ve taken, this was the only one Anne hadn’t considered.
Sadie wanted to stay in New York. Sadie, who’d said she couldn’t bear the idea of leaving Anne, ever, was doing exactly that, for an open-ended amount of time. With no guarantee she’d return to Anne ready for a permanent commitment. Because Sadie didn’t know what she wanted.
With Anne three thousand miles away, Sadie might realize that shecouldlive without her.
“Sam’s been after me to come visit him anyway. And if I’m across the country, you and I might be able to focus better without any physical or emotional distractions—”
Back to her house. Anne could make it that far. If she didn’t throw up first. She took a few halting, excruciating steps toward escape.
“—and I can untangle some things in my head, you can, too—”
“Sadie, listen to me.” Anne stopped in her tracks just before the front door, her head bowed with the weight of terror. She would openly beg, never having begged for anything in her entire life. “Don’t stay in New York. I can give you the space you need here, I can find the strength to do that; just don’t leave me. Not now.Please.”
“If you can summon that strength, then you’re far stronger than I am.” Sadie was directly behind Anne. “I know what it took for you to ask me that, and I’m sorry, I’m so—”
“Stopsayingthat!” Anne whirled around, and Sadie, who was clutching and reclutching fistfuls of her top, actually took a step back. “I don’t want your apology! You’re going to tell me you’re not sure about the best thing either of us have ever had? You can’t figure out what you want if I’m a whole house away? You can’t come right back from your interview and work this whole thing outwithme? That’s bullshit, Sadie. You know, maybe you’re right. Maybe I am a lot stronger than you are.”
Sadie stepped back again, this time stumbling into it. Her shoulders were bowed again, and she hunched over oddly, her posture like an aging woman’s. Like the aging woman she seemed—for the first time ever—to be.
“Don’t be mean,” she whispered.