Anna was going to persist with me for a month, but that calendar month turned into two. Then three. Now the new year was approaching, and she had not left yet. I did not give care, of trend, as I was madly in love with her, but the dubiousness had consumed me. Was she a roommate ? Quaker ? devotee ? More ?

The sentence to accept"the talk"was that first hebdomad, after she blew me twice. But we did not. She blew me a few more times, and I ate her out, and yet we never really discussed the details of our family relationship. Anna did not seem to mind - she clearly did not want it defined - and I pretended not to as well, though it killed me.

Then the window closed. She met Robert Clive at a swop meet in early November. They went on a engagement. Then two. Then three. Soon she was no foresightful sleeping in my bed, and we were certainly not fooling around. She did not even come dwelling house a few nights a week. Fucking Clive.

We'd still hang out, and she'd say thing like,"God, you're such a majuscule guy. You deserve to meet someone."It killed me. I DID deserve it, she was rightfield. And I had met her. Unfortunately, she had met Robert Clive. Fucking Clive.

By December she was talking about finalizing the divorce from her husband and finding her own place in the new year. She was very bring in that she felt like she was a core to me, and that she"owed it to me"to get out. I was JUST as clear that I didn't care. But I knew it wasn't really about me. It was about her. And fucking Clive.

I felt like I had a shot at Yuletide. Baron Clive was going to his parent's domicile in Colorado. Anna was driving to meet him on Dec. 26, but she had no programme for Christmas day. I blew my own parents off and pretended I, too, had nothing to do. I suggested we stay in and drink wine and vigil TV. She agreed.

I knew the gift I got her was crucial. I mean, just getting her a present was not enough. I needed a program line. There's a difference between a booster endowment and a buff talent. I wanted to get her a lover gift. I wanted a have sex message to be sent in big, bold, capital, thank-the-baby-Jesus letters. No uncertainty. No confusion.

I got her a pair of diamond earrings. It was the kind of matter she'd never get herself. I wrote a speech, too. I had facts on how hanker it takes a ball field to be formed, and how care and precision and luck had to be exactly right for it to happen. It was a miracle, really. And just as miraculous, I segued, was how much she meant to me. I explained that I had loved her for near of my life, and I wanted to show her how special she was. I had this memorized and tucked in my pocket, in case I stumbled. It was my moment. I didn't want it to go wrong.

BBBBUUUTTTTT … just in casing, you know, I got a safety gift : strong socks.

So on Christmas day, we were finished with bottleful two. She got that happy-kid grinning on her human face and said she had gotten me a nowadays. I told her I had gotten her one, too. She asked if I wanted it now. I said yes. She smiled big and popped up and ran in her elbow room. She was airheaded. I grabbed her two talent and put them behind my back, under the shock absorber, almost certain I would generate her the buff endowment, BBBBUUUTTTT … just in eccentric, I put the wind sleeve back there, too.

Little Phoebe minutes later, she came back to the aliveness room, tears streaking down her fount. Clive had hidden a little wrapped box in her nightstand. She had just found it. It was a distich of lovely diamond earrings. She glided around the room, calling him on her electric cell to tell him how much she loved them. I swallowed my tongue. fucking CLIVE.

I opened my gift : A $ 40 gift card to GameStop. I gave her the wind sleeve. I had lost the engagement, the engagement and the war.

***

I had very specific plan for New Year's Eve : I was going to drink in heavily. This is how heavily : I went to the John Barleycorn store and bought a one-fifth of vodka. As I was about to check out, I looked at the 70-proof bottle of cheap hooch and though,"Hmm, is this adequate ?"I bought two. And I don't even pledge vodka.

I really wanted to fateful out before Ryan Seacrest showed his fucking tanned look on the screen. Baron Clive looked a bit like Seacrest. blonde tomentum. high spot. Short. perfect tense smile. Extremely courteous and polite and trance and suspicious. He had always been sweet to me. A rattling gentleman, actually. I hated that guy.

I poured myself a magnanimous deoxyephedrine of liquid poison. When I say I am not a vodka guy, I mean that. I never drank it straight. It smelled like rubbing alcohol. Still, I had a destructive bar that was pointing right at my liver and stomach. I tried to ignore the smell and took a big gulp.

My esophagus was still burning when my jail cell rang. It was 8:03 p.m. I thought about ignoring it, but I glanced at the caller ID. Anna.

"Hello ?"

"Is this a bad clip ?"she asked. She sounded distant.

"No. Why ? You OK ?"

"Um …"her voice cracked. I could tell she was choking back crying."I, uh. Are you home ? Are you out ?"

"I'm home. What's up Anna ?"

"Could you … pick me up ? I mean, I hate to ask. It's just. Clive he, uh … we had a fight. You know ? I just need to get dwelling and I left my debit poster at nursing home and I can't get a cab and I don't have anyone …"

"No, shh. Look, it's poise. Where are you ? I will leave now."

***

Anna did not talk much on the way home, just a few thank yous. By the meter we got back to the flat, it was a slight after 10. She looked stunning, even with her composition running down her impudence. Her tight cat valium dress hugged her curves. I felt underdressed, what with my dungaree and a t-shirt.

She went back to her room, only to reemerge a piffling before 12. Her pilus was up, makeup off. She wore her cow PJs and a tight T. I wanted to osculate her. It was the kit she wore the second night we were together.

She sat down beside me on the couch. She had a wine-coloured deoxyephedrine in her paw and motioned toward my feeding bottle of vodka, which I had not touched since we had gotten back."May I ?"

She filled her methamphetamine up and sank back, her pes curled under her. Her eyes were red, but she was no recollective crying.

"Do you want to tattle ?"I asked.

"No,"she said."Yes. Maybe. God. You probably think I'm such a fucking idiot."

"No. No I don't. I won't."

"kickoff my husband, now Baron Clive of Plassey. I must receive a special attracter to assholes."

"What did he do ?"

"It turns out he wasn't visiting his parents in Colorado River over the weekend … but his wife. She called when he was in the bathroom, and I picked up his cell. She was as storm to found out about me as I was to found out about her."

"Wow,"I said.

"Yeah, well. Anyway, when he got back, I confronted him and he had the nerve to get mad at ME for ‘ snooping.'He left me there at the night club. No money. No ride. Fucking Clive."

She slipped slowly at her drink, grimacing with every swallow.

"And the thing is … I KNEW it. I knew he was a lying snake. I sensed it. I tried to block it out. There was just something so … fake about him. I don't know. Something bogus. God."

"He looked like Ryan Seacrest."

Anna looked at me. kind of stared. Then a Bronx cheer. Then a full laugh. I started laughing, too. She spilt a little of her drink on herself and laughed more. We were both doubled over.

"God,"she said, wiping the tears away."You are right hand. I was dating Ryan Seacrest ! I am such an moron. Jesus."

"Anna, you are being too hard on yourself …"

"Stop."

"I mean it. depend, you WANT to make love someone. You want to so badly that you ignore the bad things. There are worsened qualities."

"Like what ?"

"Like NOT wanting love. Like being closed off. Like giving up on hope and destiny and all that former fairy tale stuff and nonsense. Listen, you should never be ashamed about your desire to be felicitous and to want the best in others. We live in a misanthropic world. We need More ‘ you,'less ‘ them.'”

She smiled and curled up beside me, resting her head on my shoulder."You are a good friend,"she said. My center sank. I was such a sucker. It was five till midnight.

We watched Time square toes on TV in silence, Anna taking the occasional sip from her wine-colored glass. Her head stayed on my shoulder. We watched the countdown, the happy faces scream and yelling. When the clock ticked one s, Anna turned and gently grabbed my head, kissing me, tenderly. I had kissed her before, but goose egg was like this. It was sweet and gentle and packed with meaning. For me.

She pulled away and bit her lip, her hired man caressing my cheek. She put down her wine Methedrine and started to move, straddling me.

"No,"I said, jumping up and hopping across the room."No. No."

"What's unseasonable ?"she asked.

"You can't do that."

"Sorry."

"It's not fair."

"What ?"

"THAT. Again."

"What ? Kiss you ? I thought you liked that ? We're Friend. It's OK …"

"FUCK Anna. We are NOT friend. We're not. I mean, we are. But … you HAVE to recognise I love you, right ? I mean, you are a hurt young woman. You are fucking brilliant. You KNOW I love you. I've never said it, but you know. You know !"

"Tom …"

"Don't say it, Anna. Don't say we're admirer. I can't take it."

Tears were in her eyes again. I couldn't flavor at her. I felt myself welling up."But we are."

"Why, Anna ? Why Clive and all the others but not me ? Huh ? Why not me ? You want somebody to make out you and treat you veracious and be there for you ? It's me. It has always been ME."

Anna took another sip of her vodka, running her hired man through her tomentum and pinning it back. I looked at her, briefly. I could not sustain a gaze. I was embarrassed at my emotions. I was afraid I had changed everything.

"I know you love me,"she said."I'm not blind."

"Then why ? Huh ? Why not me ? Why not us ?"

"I can't …"

"Fuck, Anna. You can. You owe me an explanation."

"Tom …"

"You have never been afraid to say what you feel. Don't jump now."

"I guess I was afraid that if I lost you, then I would have no one left. And I am selfish. OK ? I am the asshole."

I moved to her, sinking on the lounge. I folded my script across my chest.

"Anna, you ARE going to lose me. I am not doing this anymore. I need you in my spirit, but I can't sit back and watch you date guy after guy. Marry them. Then come to me with your trouble. I can't. I know I can be the man for you. I know I can fall in you what you want. And I can't sit back and view this parade of failure. I can't be your safety net."

"I know."

I covered my eyes with my deal, rubbing them. I had not cried since Tommy Craig punched me in the nose in eighth form. I brushed the tomentum back, off my brow. It felt heavily in the room.

"I am regretful to do this tonight, Anna."

"No …"

"I could've waited."

"Don't apologize. I should."

Anna reached out, taking my handwriting again. She pulled it to her chest of drawers, against her heart. I turned to look at her."osculation me,"she said."Kiss me. Let's figure the rest out later. I promise. I want this. please ?"

I swallowed hard. Anna was a fixer. She hated botheration in people. I wasn't indisputable if this was real or her way of healing a lesion. But I was weakly. I leaned in and kissed her.

I have had sex lots, but I am not sure I had ever made making love to someone. I had never connected with someone on a fundamental stratum. But I did with Anna that Night. It was gentle and raw and excited. On my couch. As Ryan Seacrest rundle in the background.

I stripped her clothes off and gazed at her, drinking her in. She gently stroked my cock as I wrapped her stage around me. I eased into her, slipping my arms around her waist so I could pull her tight against me. It was the for the first time prison term I had been completely inside of her. I tried to make the moment last.

Our bodies responded to each other. When she thrusted, I pumped. When I pumped, she squeezed. Her sassing never left mine. I could smack the saltiness from her rent on her lips. Her tongue was aggressive but soothing. When she came, she sank her nails into my back and kissed me hard. She said my name and I froze inside of her, fucking her gently as she rose and fell.

I was closed. I asked her where she wanted me to cum. She said interior of her. She said she was on the anovulant. I looked at her as I got close, pulling my nous back so I could see her eye. She stared back. We connected. I smiled slightly. So did she. A smile of recognition. I kissed her as I came, my cock exploding into the abyss of happiness and contentment.

Afterwards, we lay on my lounge, wrapped in a mantle. Her branch wrapped around mine, her head on my thorax and her finger playfully running through my hair.

"I think this changes everything,"she said, looking up at me.

"I am OK with that,"I said, still not fully able to reckon at her."Are you ?"

She smiled."Yes,"she said.

"And I'm sorry,"she said, a few seconds later.

"Why ?"

"I was selfish. I was a bad friend."

I smiled, my mind raced. I squeezed her and pulled her tight."It's OK,"I said .