“Is that why you didn’t push harder to findhim?”
“Excuse me?” Ryan rolls over forcefully, hisarm brushing across the satin of my camisole.
“Why didn’t you push harder to find him?”
It didn’t seem to matter how many times Ryanbadgered his mother about Sean’s whereabouts; she told him the samething every time. That she didn’t know where Sean was. Which is acomplete crock of shit and we both know it.
“Don’t be ridiculous. What did you want me todo, send out a search party?”
“Yes. If you’re really so concerned aboutwhat’s going to happen to you, I think you would have tried harderto find him.”
“Oh really?” Now he’s straight up mad.
“You know what I think? I think this isexactly what happened seven years ago. You’ve been put between arock and a hard place, and you don’t want be the cause of somethingbad happening to Sean or your mother, so you suck it up and pay theprice for all of them.” Maybe that’s why he didn’t involve me thefirst time. He knew I would have talked him out of going throughwith it.
“Everything will be fine. Shelly spoke withthe prosecutor, I’m going to plead guilty, take the deal and bedone with it, then move on with my life.”
“What life?” I argue, “You’re not going to beable to leave the state of New Jersey and Vegas is shot.”
“Pipedream.”
“I don’t accept that.”
“You don’t have to, it’s not your life.”
“No, but one day it might have been ourlife.”
“What do you mean,might have?”
“We can’t have a future like this Ryan.Always looking over our shoulders worrying about what Sean might donext?”
Ryan pauses, I can’t see his face in thedarkness, but I can hear him breathe restively. “Am I going to loseyou over this, Alana?”
“This? No, but there are no guarantees downthe road.”
Ryan huffs, “Why does that statement notsurprise me?”
“What?” I retort.
“You want to know what’s really a pipedream?The idea that someone like you could actually end up with someonelike me.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I’m just the interim, the dirtylittle secret in your past that your future will never knowabout.”
That statement just stabbed me right in theheart. But I know it isn’t him talking. It’s the anger and fear andresentment and rage. And even though I recognize that, it doesn’tmean it hurts any less.
“You know what,” I throw the covers off me,“now you sound like Sean and your mother. If you want to believethe pauper never ends up with the princessbullshit, fine.But don’t think I’m going to sit here and put up with you sayinghurtful things to me just so you can push me away. I’ll go freely.”I get out of bed and stomp towards the door, “But let me leave youwith a little reminder before I go.” I grab the knob, “I distinctlyrecall you telling me that you were never going to take the fallfor Sean again, yet here you are. Going in front of a judgetomorrow, handing him several years of your life for something youdidn’t do.”
“I’m not going to jail.”
“Not this time.”
“Not ever again.”
“Do you really believe that? Because what’sgoing to happen the next time Sean uses your name? Or borrows yourcar? Or shows up on your doorstep looking for a place to live witha Ziploc full of heroin in his pocket? He’ll never change if heknows there are no consequences for his actions. So you’re rightabout one thing, I’m not going to stick around to have a futurewith you like that.”
I storm out of the room and down the stairs.Goddamn it, why did I ever give up smoking?