The Break-Up Retreat(94)

Why was it, then, that Susannah made her feel so unsure?

Linn stared at the lock. It looked a thousand miles away.

“I love you.” Susannah’s voice sounded choked, and the pain in it caused Linn to want to weep.

She saw herself reaching out, like in a dream, as though someone else was controlling her hand. Saw her own fingers close around the lock and turn it.

The clicking seemed to stop the world.

Maybe a second passed. Maybe an hour. Linn felt like she couldn’t move.

Then she saw the door handle twisting down, and the door slowly opening.

Susannah looked beautiful. She always did. The first time Linn saw her, a thought had struck her, as if not her own: she is like the moon.

Pale, and luminous, and perfect.

Susannah’s face broke out in a smile so wide it must hurt.

“Hi, sweetie.”

She stepped in through the door, and for a moment, it was like time travel; like they were in the Before, when none of the bad things had yet happened, when Susannah had never looked at her with anything but what felt like pure adoration. When Linn had never been afraid of her.

Susannah reached for her, but a little voice, far back in Linn’s mind, whispered:

No.

It almost sounded like her mother’s voice, the way she remembered it.

Linn found her voice again.

“I put your things in a box.”

She thought that she sounded small, and weak. Why would anyone ever listen to her?

And, indeed, Susannah didn’t.

Instead, she closed the door behind her, like she had every right to. Like she belonged there.

“I think you should take your things and go.” Linn was whispering, and it hurt to say it, and it frightened her, too. Enough that she looked down on the floor.

“Come on, baby. We’re not in a hurry.” Susannah was using her affectionate voice, the one that seemed to imply that Linn was being silly, that she was causing trouble, but that Susannah was willing to put up with it.

It would have been so easy to give in. Everything in her body was straining toward Susannah.

But that little voice, the same one that had made her post to that forum, the same one that had made her give the ring back, the same one that kept telling Susannah to go even as Linn’s blood was dripping onto the black-and-white tile in the kitchen and Susannah looked as though she might do something far worse than slap her, wouldn’t let her give in.

“No,” Linn said. “You can take your things, and we can say goodbye. But then I want you to leave.”

The silence fell like thunder between them.

“You’re not scared of me,” Susannah said. Like a question. Like a command. “Jesus, Linn. For fuck’s sake.”

Linn flinched.

“Come on,” Susannah said, raising her voice. “What do you think is going to happen? What, you think I’m going to hit you? Is that really the kind of person you think I am?”

“No.” But she couldn’t keep herself from shrinking back, the memory of the pain and the shock still vivid in her memory.

Susannah shifted in an instant. She’d always had that ability.

“You hate me,” Susannah spit out. “Is that it? You hate me, now. I thought you loved me, but I guess you think I’m just fucking trash.”

“I don’t.” Linn didn’t want to play this game; didn’t want to reassure Susannah, didn’t want to keep bending until she broke.

“But you have to go. You said you’d leave if I asked you to leave. And I’m . . . asking you.”

When she looked up, Susannah’s eyes were huge, brimming with tears, making Linn’s whole body ache.

But then her arm shot out, and she pushed Linn in the chest.

It hurt, hurt worse than it should have, and it knocked the air out of her; she almost fell, stumbled backward over the cast-iron shoe stand Susannah had insisted on buying, but managed to catch herself on the door to the closet and stay upright.

She gasped for air as Susannah grabbed her arm and hauled her up. She tried to cry out, but she couldn’t breathe, and all that came out was a pathetic gasp.

Susannah shook her by the arm, making it feel like the arm would tear from its socket, and Linn moaned in pain.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me!” Susannah wasn’t yelling; she was talking normally, like they were just having a conversation, but her eyes were blazing black, her pupils fully dilated, and this was worse than last time, so much worse.

“Fine,” Linn managed to gasp out. “I’m sorry.”

She just had to calm her, like she had a thousand times before. All she had to do was buy some time.

This had been a mistake. But this time, she would learn. She wouldn’t make this mistake again. She would protect herself.

Susannah let go of her arm, and Linn pulled it to her, massaging it; Susannah’s lips twitched as she looked at Linn.

Like she was fighting a smile.

And for the first time, Linn felt a spark of anger.

That little voice, again.

This is not right.

I should call the police.

Linn was going to lie. Make up some story. But she had never been a very good liar.

She had never had cause to be, before Susannah.

Susannah saw something in her face. Linn didn’t know what. But she saw her own feeling mirrored in Susannah’s eyes, saw the rage returning, so Linn turned and ran.