Page 66 of Delicate


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Since I study film production, I’m able to point out what works, what’s lacking, and how they could piece together scenes better in the editing.

“That’s cool you can pick it apart like that. You see things in the movie I never would.”

I shrug. “Guess my classes taught me well, huh?”

Maia laughs. “I would sure hope so.”

The next couple of days are filled with long drives and stops for food and sleep. We’re a lot more subdued this time around, the excitement from the start of our trip having dwindled down to nothing.

When we finally make it to the fourth day and only have five hours left, I try to put on my best face forward, but I’m tired as hell. Our motel room sucked last night, the bed was complete shit, and I barely slept.

My mind won’t stop racing. My heart won’t stop screaming. Neither one wants to listen to the other, and I want to fucking crawl out of my own skin.

Maia doesn’t say much either as we begin our drive and I wonder if she had trouble sleeping as well. I heard her toss and turn a couple of times but not nearly as much as I did.

The next few hours are silent.

I can’t fucking take it anymore.

It’s the wrong time and place, but I need to get this off my chest. Maybe if I say it, put it out there, I’ll start to believe it more. This conflict that’s weighing me down will fucking disappear.

“Maia, listen. I think we should take a little space when we get home.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe to cool us off a bit. I mean, we’ve been together nonstop through the trip, and we fucked up and had sex, and it all seems to be changing and happening so fast,” I ramble on and tell myself to shut up. I’m making it worse. So much worse.

“Cool us off a bit? We had sex once, Rhett. You make it sound like we can’t keep our hands off each other. I don’t think we could cool it down more if we tried.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like!” She throws her hands up in exasperation. “You know I’ve held back all my feelings this entire trip out of respect for you. Then we’re drunk and you kiss me. What did you think would happen?”

“What feelings are you talking about? We’re friends, Maia.” I don’t want to think about her having feelings.

I can’t.

Because then I won’t be able to ignore mine. The ones that want to pull this car over right now and kiss the ever-living shit out of her. The ones I’ve been pretending don’t exist. The ones that scare me fucking half to death.

I refuse to admit it. I don’t love her as anything more than just a friend.

Fucking liar. You love her. You’re in love with her.

SHUT UP!

“Just fucking forget it,” Maia snaps.

“No, I won’t forget it. We had a slipup. Shit happens. It changed things between us, and I feel it would do us good to have some space.”

“You know what? I’ve come to realize on this trip that you don’t appreciate what you have. How fucking lucky and blessed you are. So go ahead, run away from me like you do your family.”

“I don’t run away from my family. You spend some time with us, and suddenly, you think you’re an expert?”

“I never said that. I call it like I see it, that’s all.”

“You don’t understand what it’s like to have a family, to be smothered by one, because you don’t have one.” The words are out before I can stop them.

Instantly, I wish I could take them back.

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