Nick Hornby: High Fidelity

 

- Extract:

 

 

When I saw Laura outside the shop knew I absolutely, without any question at all, that I wanted her back. But probably because she’s the one doing the rejecting. If I can get her to concede that there is a chance we’ll patch things up, that makes things easier for me: if I don’t  have to go around feeling hurt, and powerless, and miserable, I can cope without her. In other words, I’m unhappy because she doesn’t want me; if I can convince myself that she does want me a bit, then I’ll be OK again, because then I won’t want her, and I can get on with looking for someone else.

 

Laura is wearing an expression I have come to know well in recent months, a look that denotes both infinite patience and hopeless frustration. It doesn`t  feel good to know that she has invented this look just for me. She never needed it before. She sighs, and puts her head on her hand, and stares at the wall.

 

‘OK, it could be that we sort things out. There may be a chance of that happening. I would say not a good chance, but a chance.’

‘Great.’

‘No, Rob, it’s not great. Nothing’s great. Everything’s shit.’

‘But it won’t be, you’ll see.’

 

She shakes her head, apparently in disbelief. ‘I’m too tired for this now. I know I’m asking a lot, but will you go back to the pub and have a drink with the others while I’m sorting some stuff out? I need to be able to thin while I’m doing it, and I can’t think with you here.’

 

‘No problem. If I can ask a question.’

‘OK. One.’

‘It sounds stupid.’

‘Never mind.’

‘You won’t  like it.’

‘Just … just ask it.’

‘Is it better?’

‘Is what better? Is what better than what?’

‘Well. Sex, I guess. Is sex with him better?’

‘Jesus Christ, Rob. Is that really what’s bothering you?’

‘Of course it is.’

‘You think it would make a difference either way?’

‘I don’t know.’ And I don’t.

 

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