Marianne by Elizabeth Hammer (best books to read in life TXT) 📕

Patrick stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the keys to his truck. He tossed them on the sidewalk in front of her and turned around. She watched him walk away. Two houses away. Four houses away. Farther. Farther. Then he was gone.

26

Nothing But Reruns

That could not be the end.

Marianne woke up at six the next morning. She got dressed, put on makeup, and sat on her bed to wait. He would come. They were more to each other than nasty words on a sidewalk, and she knew he would come.

At seven-thirty, he tapped on her window. Mom and Dad were sleeping, so she motioned for him to meet her in the backyard.

Patrick was standing just inside the gate when she walked out the back door. “Baby,” he said, his voice breaking.

She managed to say, “I’m sorry,” as she ran across the patio and knocked herself into him. “I didn’t mean any of what I said to you. It was all lies. I was just hurt and defensive.”

“I know,” he said. “I know. I didn’t mean it either. I was so awful. I’m just so scared of losing you.” Patrick loosened his hold on her and moved to sit down on the cold patio, pulling her down with him. They sat side by side against the house, his arm around her.

When Marianne could breathe again, she said, “You were right to be so angry about Christian. I can’t believe I spilled our business like that.”

Patrick ran his hand through her hair. “Sweetie, you can share it with the whole world. Just share it with me, too.”

“I know that. I know.” Marianne started breathing more quickly again. She didn’t want to talk about the real subject yet. “I just saw how mad you were after he talked to you, and I wanted to apologize again.”

Patrick sighed. “Don’t feel bad about that. Last night wasn’t about gossiping; it was about everything between us.”

Ugh. Good moment over. Marianne took her head off his shoulder and sat up straight. She picked up a stick that was rolling by in the wind so she wouldn’t have to look at him. “So, you meant what you said, then. About drowning in all my crap?”

“No,” he said immediately. Then he blew out his breath. “Yes. That was partly true. I just... the way things are between us... it’s not working.”

Marianne broke her stick in half. “Then go,” she said in the robot voice. “What are you even doing here?”

“Don’t do this again...”

Marianne laughed and looked up. “So I was the one responsible for that fight?”

“I didn’t say that.” Though his tone didn’t deny it, either.

“You didn’t say that,” said Marianne, “but that’s what you meant.”

“No,” he said slowly, like he was talking to a little girl. “I meant—”

“Enough,” she said. “Don’t treat me like an idiot. You don’t say things out loud, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hear them.”

“Why are you always putting words in my head?”

“I’m not.” Marianne turned her body to face him and crossed her legs. “I’m just filling in the blanks with things you’ve said in the past. I know you. I know how you think.” She touched the side of her head. “You don’t have to say that the fight was my fault for me to know that you think it. And...” Marianne looked down and fiddled with the stick while she mustered up the courage to say more. Her throat felt like it had fallen asleep. “You say that things aren’t working with us, and you mean to say that it’s because of me. Because I’m such a freak show all the time. I can see the effect I have on you. You’re not happy.”

“You don’t—”

“Stop lying,” she almost shouted.

Patrick looked down. “What do you want me to say?”

“Say that I hurt you. Admit it. It felt good last night to hear you say it. It hurts me when you try to cover.”

“Fine. You hurt me. I feel like,” he paused, “like I’m the only one in this.”

Marianne sat up straighter. He did not just say that. “The only one in what?”

“In the relationship,” he said. “You’re not trying.”

Marianne clenched her jaw and spoke very clearly. “I’m sorry that I can’t be freaking perfect like you. I have been trying, Patrick, but you don’t seem to care.”

“Excuse me?” Patrick gaped at her. “You haven’t tried at all.”

Marianne stood up. “What the hell do you know about it?”

“Well, obviously nothing.” He stood up, too. “You don’t give me anything. I don’t get anything from you. Ever.”

“What the hell do you want?” She tossed the stick into the pool. “Why can’t I be around you for two minutes together without feeling judged?”

“Judged.” He leaned over her, trying very hard to stay calm. “Judged. When have I ever judged you?”

Marianne shook her head in disbelief. “Try every second of every day. You’re constantly pushing me. I don’t know how to make you happy.” She lifted her hands in surrender. “Nothing I do is ever good enough.”

Patrick ran his hand through his hair. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Oh right, I’m crazy.” She smiled and patted him with her hand. “I forgot.”

Patrick grabbed her wrist. “I didn’t say that; I just don’t understand. How do I judge you?”

“Argh!” She pulled her wrist free. “You just said it a second ago. You said I give you nothing. It’s like I’m always just one step away from being what you want. It’s like I’m almost perfect, except for this one thing.” She held up her fingers to show an inch. “Then when I do that thing, it’s something else.”

“That is—” Patrick clenched his jaw and stepped back. He pointed at her. “That is so unfair. I’m only asking for one thing, Marianne. One freaking thing. Just be open with me. That’s all I’ve ever asked of you. That’s it. That’s all.”

She crossed her arms. “You ask too much.”

“Hardly.”

“Too much for me,” she said.

“This isn’t