Essay about Summary Of ' I Cut Him Off '
He glares at me. But I know him; it’s a stall, to think, think about the question I just posed. And the longer he glares at me, the less likely it is he’ll come up with a plausible answer, so I don’t wait for one.
“Do you remember why Gloriel Sundays began?”
He doesn’t answer, because I’m guessing he figures I’m about to back him in a corner and prove he’s the one being unfair.
“Do you remember what you said to me?”
Still no answer.
“You told me she hadn’t been the same since your dad died. You told me she was unhappy and that you were worried about her. You told me your worst nightmare is to find her lifeless with a half-empty bottle of pills in her hand,” I remind him.
“Well, have you changed your mind about all that? Because now she’s happy, now she’s glowing, and you’re not being happy with her. You’re shutting her out. What you told me back then, and how you’re acting right now, I can’t believe it’s all from the same person.”
Beats of silence stretch between us, until he expels a defeated sigh and drops back down to the love seat. “I don’t know…don’t know how to even…imagine her with anyone else but dad.”
Closing the two feet between us, I take a seat on his lap, his arm automatically looping around my waist, his face pressing into my neck, nuzzling. “Right now, I don’t…