Truly(117)
After the sun set, he checked into a run-down motel on the fringe, took a long, hot shower, and yawned almost continuously as he dried off and pulled on boxers and a T-shirt. The curtains were heavy, the room almost pitch black with them closed.
He didn’t think of May, because to think of her would be to cause himself pain, and there was no pain in this sliver that wasn’t even a place. There was nothing.
The bed sagged under his weight, and he wrapped himself in the comforter and dropped gratefully into darkness.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
May leaned toward her bathroom mirror, seeking a better view as she slicked her sister’s lipstick over her bottom lip. Candy-cane pink, it made her look cheap and bubbly, like an extra in an eighties movie—particularly in combination with the earrings Ben had bought her and the spangly black top, its low scoop neck far more revealing than anything she normally wore.
As she reached beneath the cap sleeves to adjust the straps of her black bra, she heard her front door open, and her heart leapt.
Ben.
“It’s just me,” Allie called. Her jaunty tone did little to disguise the weariness in her voice. “The life-wrecker.”
“I’m in the bathroom.”
“I know. I can smell your hair product from here.”
A jingling noise told her Allie must have dropped her keys and purse on the entryway table. May glanced at the shower, where Allie’s wedding dress and May’s own dark blue maid of honor dress hung side by side from the curtain rod.
“Whoa, Nellie,” Allie said when she came into the room. “What are you wearing?”
May did a little twirl. “You like?”
“You look unbelievable.”
May studied her reflection in the mirror. The woman looking back at her had dramatic, smoky eyes, fabulously tousled hair, and a pouting bubblegum mouth. She had great tits, a tight ass encased in faux-snakeskin pants, and shit-kicking cowboy boots.
“Thank you. The look I was going for was tramp-who-got-dumped-and-is-in-search-of-rebound-action.”
“Are you?”
May raised one shoulder and watched the slithery top fall off it. Maybe she should lose the bra. She’d be hiding the straps all night long. “Not really.”
“But it’s fun to pretend.” Allie grasped her shoulders from behind.
May squinted at her reflection. “I’m not pretending,” she said. “I like these pants. I like this whole outfit.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Only I never would have let myself wear it before, because I didn’t feel like I was supposed to.”
“Supposed to what?”
May brushed on one more coat of mascara as she thought about her answer, her mouth hanging open because for whatever reason she couldn’t apply eye makeup with her lips closed. “Just be.” She turned around and hopped up on the vanity so she could see Allie’s face.
“Just be.” Allie repeated the words back to her, and May saw that her sister’s cheeks were blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed. She must have cried a bunch more during the conversation with Matt.
“Yeah. Turn off every single filter that says, No, that’s not you, and No, you can’t wear that, and No, that’s not what you’re supposed to be doing, and just be.”
“How’s that working out for you?”
The question was flippant, but Allie’s eyes weren’t. She wanted to know.
“So far, it’s got its pluses and minuses.”
Allie smiled. Then she dropped her head and wrapped one arm around her middle.
“Al?”
She lifted her eyes. Tears streaked down her cheeks, but she was smiling. “That is such a May thing to say.”
May closed her eyes, smiling back even as her throat pinched shut. “Why aren’t we drinking yet?”
“I don’t know. It’s a problem. Hang on.”
Allie came back a minute later with two glasses, a corkscrew, and a bottle of red wine that had been at the back of May’s cabinet for ages. May hopped down to open it, threw the cork into the sink, and poured generously.
“Should we toast?” Allie asked.
May’s nose wrinkled. “No. Ben toasts. We get schnockered without ceremony.”
“Okay.” Allie lifted the glass, closed her eyes, and drank half its contents in one go. She licked her lip. “Where did this come from?”
“I think some random woman gave it to Dan after a game.”
“It tastes expensive.”
“Good. Let’s drink it really fast.”
“You’re such a tactical genius.”
May knocked back a slug of wine, enjoying the way its cool, dark taste sent fingers of warmth into her chest and down toward her stomach.