Reach

Chapter Forty Six- What If?

"What if it actually happened?"

Dahlia leaned over Roy intensely as he skillfully cut open new packages in the back room delivered that morning. She sat on the desk and swung her legs back and forth.

Roy sighed, squeezing the box cutter. "I don't know, Dahlia."

"You would've had to marry me," she insisted.

"Uh, not necessarily..." Roy mumbled.

"Uh, yeah. Unless you want the child growing up in a fatherless household with a penniless and ostracized mother, forced to work on the farm, maybe even sent to an orphanage if it got really bad..."

"Yeah..."

"So why can't we get married?"

"Dahlia, I can't marry you."

She crossed her arms. "Why the hell not?"

"Because..."

"Because why?"

"Because there's boxes in my mind that are open and full of items that need to be returned to sender. And the boxes need to be sealed. I am afraid they are very much open."

" There's boxes downstairs going to city hall that need to be sealed. I'll go get them for you." Dahlia strutted out of the room.

Roy groaned quietly, debating for a second whether he should slit his wrists with the box cutter or not. No, that would be far too messy, and he would never get away with it. They'd most definitely send him back to the hospital and Dr. Lockhart...well, he knew where his A-Wall patient worked now.

Dahlia returned sometime later, several cardboard boxes piled up in her arms. She sat them down in front of Roy on top of the things he was working on.

"Here. Seal these boxes up. They're open." She leaned over the desk, her nose almost touching Roy's.

"I'll do that," Roy said.

"And once you're done sealing up those boxes, seal up the ones in your head."

"I'll try."

"Are you coming over tonight?"

"Not tonight. I should probably go home."

Dahlia frowned. "Can I come?"

"Probably not. I'm not going up those stairs again. And we both know that's what you're going to try to do."

"Why?"

"Because it's humiliating and takes too much time."

"Why is it humiliating?"

"Because it is."

"How much time is too much for you?"

"The time it takes for you to drag me upstairs like some sort of drunken plaything." Roy stretched out a piece of duct tape.

"Your family didn't even bother to bring your bed downstairs for you," Dahlia huffed.

"The living room doesn't have a door. It's not my room."

"You can't sleep on the couch forever. Or live out of your suitcase."

"I probably will."

"Unless you move in with me."

"What?"

"Or we go to LA."

"Stop."

"No."

"Yes."

"Make me."

"I'll never have sex with you again if you don't shut up."

Dahlia seemed taken back. She looked around, as if to see if anyone was listening. She crossed her arms.

"I'm gonna go drive these to city hall." She picked up the boxes that were ready.

"You do that," Roy said.

Dahlia left hastily. Amanda entered the room and pulled up a chair next to Roy.

"Doesn't it ever creep you out."

"What?"

Amanda took off her glasses and cleaned them on her shirt.

"That you can't feel your legs."

"What?"

"Like you can't feel me poking you right now?"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Amanda?"

"It totally doesn't freak you out?" She giggled.

"Stop touching me," Roy snapped. "Go eat an entire chocolate cake and leave me alone."

Amanda frowned. "All I ever do is try to be friends with you. We never talk."

"Well you're doing it wrong."

"Did you sleep with Dahlia?"

Roy's eyes widened in astonishment. "Why are you asking me that???"

"Well I heard stuff. I didn't know you could have sex."

"Oh. My god."

"I think it's really brave of Dahlia to even consider being with you. With or without sex"

Roy was infuriated. "What gives you the right to fucking ask me this shit?"

"We're coworkers," smiled Amanda. "But yeah it's so great."

"We are not together," Roy said bitterly.

"Then why did you sleep with her if you're not together?"

"Who the fuck did you hear that from?" Roy was gaping.

"Kevin."

"Where the fuck did he hear that from?"

"Dahlia."

"Mmmmm." Roy lay his head on the desk. It felt like it was going explode.

"You two are so daring."

"Please shut up," Roy mumbled.

"Huh?"

"SHUT YOUR FAT FUCKING MOUTH. PLEASE. THANK YOU."

Amanda bit her tongue, nostrils flaring. Roy noticed a faint glimmer of tears forming.

"The front desk needs attending to," she said, and slammed the door behind her.

Roy picked up the telephone and dialed a number he had memorized by heart.