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“I’m not just being dramatic, Kate. I was. I was awful. I never let anyone get close to me. I kept everyone at a distance. And I used people for my own ends.” He’s staring at a dresser vanity pushed up against the wall about eight feet from us. There’s a silver hair brush laying on its back upon it and a jewelry box. And the dragonfly ring. I let go of his hand, stand, and retrieve the ring.
“Am I close to you?” I ask, inspecting the ring and putting it on.
He sniffs and rubs his temple. “Yes. You know almost everything there is to know about me.”
This makes me warm inside. “Then it doesn’t matter that at one time, you didn’t let anyone close to you. Because you’ve changed.”
“What about you, Kate. Am I close to you? Do I know everything about you?”
I shift, staring at the dragonfly ring, feeling caught. “Um, no. Not everything.”
“What don’t I know?”
“Don’t forget, Will, that I’m actually alive. And things change constantly.”
“How does that change what we’re talking about now?”
“I don’t know.”
“So are you saying that you’re hiding from me?”
I think of Ty and my mouth goes dry. I don’t want to bring real-life into this, it doesn’t fit here, in the logic of the dream world. It will only upset the balance, I think, and it might scare Will away. I suddenly feel like I’m two-timing him. His eyes are narrow and staring hard at me, so I look away, aware at once of the aura of the room.
“Let’s get out of here, Will. Unless there’s something you want to show me.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
I shrug and wait for him to decide we can leave. With a sigh he stands up and takes my hand. He scans the room, his eyes focusing on the bed, then the mirrors, the dresser, and then, without warning, he lets go of my hand and charges the bed. In one motion, he tears the bedspread off and the sheets and tries to claw through the mattress, which is this very old, striped design. I avert my eyes when I begin to notice all the stains on it. I don’t want to know and I back up until I bump into the wall. Will upends the mattress and it falls against the wall on the opposite side, and then he rushes the dresser and yanks the drawers out, scattering the contents—lingerie, fishnet tights, lace nightgowns and bottles of cheap perfume—and then knocks the dresser over. All the while he yells and grunts, and screams as though exorcising the demons of the past inside him.
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