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She bites her lip. “The pretzels were supposed to be an olive branch.”
Huh.
I toss the paper towel and step back so I’m leaning against the opposite counter. “Do we need one?”
Her slender shoulder comes up, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know what we need. Maybe just for me to find another place.”
Wait, what?
“You’re looking?” Why it surprises me, I have no idea.
“Ben, I shouldn’t be here. You’ve been beyond generous, but you can’t tell me this feels right to you.”
It doesn’t. But her leaving doesn’t feel right either.
It feels fucking wrong. And suddenly, that jumpy tension is back under my skin.
“You don’t need to find another apartment. There’s plenty of space here.”
“And you don’t owe me any of it.”
“I know I don’t owe you. I just— fuck.” I shove a hand through my hair and meet her eyes, letting her see the truth in mine. “I don’t know how to be around you anymore.”
Her head hangs low, that smile I’ve done crazy things to earn nowhere to be seen. And I hate myself for being the reason it’s gone.
I need to knock my shit off and fix this. “Hey, I don’t want you to leave.”
“Really?”
She won’t even look at me.
Maybe I wasn’t sure before, but I am now. “Yeah.”
Lara worries her lip between her teeth. “Okay. I’m taking you at your word about the apartment. Thank you. But if you change your mind, you’ll let me know. And even if you don’t, I don’t expect— I— We don’t have to be friends.”
Ooph.
The words hit like a blow. Harder than they should after all this time. I turn them over once more. It’s enough.
“Here’s the thing, Elliot.” I scrub my jaw. “Our baggage is from a million years ago. Sure, we crossed some lines, had some fun… A lot of fun.”
Her lips part in surprise.
Yeah, didn’t see myself going there either. But this needs to be said.
“We were young. Headed in different directions. College. The league. Life happened and we drifted apart. That’s all.”
It wasn’t her fault that I’d quietly gotten it in my head we might be more. Or that when I realized more wasn’t in the cards for us and she was moving on with her life exactly the way we promised each other we would, I couldn’t handle it. That when the time and distance started to grow, it was easier to let it build and build… until that’s all there was.
It wasn’t her fault. And it wasn’t totally mine. Which I’m feeling mature AF being able to acknowledge.
It’s kind of freeing, actually.
I reach out and take her hand. “But before all that? We were really, really good friends.”
Her eyes meet mine. “Yeah, we were. The best.”
I nod. “I miss being friends with you.”
