AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shame floods me as I sink heavily into one of the waiting room chairs. It feels like acid bubbling up in my gut. This man, this kind and selfless man, was a goddamn therapist for children with cancer. And I accused him of stalking me. I’ve been so self-centered and shortsighted that I accused him of lying to me. Of being inappropriate. Erik. The man who put my comfort and my safety above everything last night. I’m the one who crossed a line. Probably my dad too, for not telling Erik who he was, but definitely me.
I want to sink down into the floor, melt away between the tiles until there’s nothing left, but that’s not the mature way to handle this.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
My stomach sours as I wait for him to tell me to go screw myself, to storm from the room, to roll his eyes as his gaze shutters. Instead, Erik crouches down in front of me and puts his hands on the wooden arms of my chair. He’s caging me in with his body, but I don’t feel trapped. I like having him this close. Maybe that’s part of the problem.
“It’s okay to be sensitive about this. It’s okay to be protective of your father,” Erik says. He’s trying to catch my eye, but I’m not ready for that. He’s letting me off too easy. I was a bitch, and I deserve for him to yell, to scold, to something. That fact that he isn’t makes me feel like I’ve gone right-side up after being stuck on an upside-down roller coaster for hours. Disorienting, terrifying, confusing.
“I should have let you explain first. I’m sorry I went off on you. I just assumed—” I swallow hard. It hurts.
“Don’t apologize for being cautious.” He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear, and I shut my eyes at the slide of his fingers. “Just because it feels like we’ve known each other for decades, doesn’t change the fact that we haven’t. You’ve had less than a day with me to get to know who I am, and there are too many people in this world who can lie and cheat and then turn around and hurt the people they say they care about.”
And there it is. My gut response laid out in black and white. I hadn’t been angry, not at first. I hadn’t been scared. I’d been hurt. I had allowed myself to perceive our relationship in a certain light and had assumed that he was overstepping my boundaries without my permission. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t laid those boundaries out for him to understand. It had still been like a knife to the chest. A sting that choked me up and put me on the offensive. I’ve read enough books about grief and hurt to know that it’s easier to channel those painful emotions into anger; but no matter how many books I read, it’s still not easy to recognize when I’m in the thick of it.
I reacted like Erik’s my boyfriend, and he isn’t. That’s the basic truth. He isn’t my boyfriend, and he never will be. It’s one thing to date long-distance after establishing a relationship in person or expecting the distance will eventually end. It isn’t practical to start a relationship with a man who lives in another state. There’s no sign he’s even interested. He’d said it with no qualms the night before.
I know he likes me, at least enough to fuck me, but the hurt I’d felt as his perceived betrayal? Well, I’m halfway to dangerous territory here and there is only one way out. One way to cut these feelings off at the knees.
“I still should have let you explain,” I say. “Then you wouldn’t have had to rush out of his room.”
Erik shakes his head. “It’s okay, Quinn. Your dad wasn’t feeling great. I’d rather you get some of that time with him, instead of making both of you feel you need to entertain someone else.” He smiles at me, the lopsided one that sends my heart clanging about in my chest like a pair of cymbals. “I have a meeting soon, but I’m still hoping to see you tonight. Should I pick you up from here?”
I try to smile, but my lips quiver. I pull them into my mouth, clamping down on them with my teeth. My eyes burn, but I refuse to think about that. What I’m about to do is going to hurt more, but only for a little while. If I drag this out any longer, it’s just going to be worse in another forty-eight hours.
“I don’t think tonight is a good idea,” I say.
“Sure,” Erik nods, “I understand. Tomorrow then?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, either.” I swallow past another solid lump in my throat. The burn is just getting worse.
“Sunday morning?” Erik offers and it takes an effort to shake my head. Why can’t he just take the hint? How many guys are this persistent? Probably the ones who can overlook a misguided panic. The ones strong enough to lose their dream and still support their brother achieving it. God, he’s just so goddamn good. Any more time together and my heart will be bloody pulp in my chest.
“I think this freak out has shown me I’m not in the right headspace for you, Erik. I like you. A lot.”Too much.“But I think it’s better if we go our separate ways now, before you fly back to Chicago.”
This is too much. He’s too much. I feel too much. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since we met. This man could devastate me without even trying. I can’t give him the opportunity.
Before, I’d thought a few extra days together wouldn’t make a difference. A few hours holding hands, kissing, dating. Now I know better. Nothing about my reaction to Erik is logical or normal and I’m in real danger of getting my heart bruised. Best to cut ties now rather than let them tighten.
Erik is frowning, still caging me into the chair when he asks, “Can I still text you?”
I shrug like his words don’t feel like a blow to the gut. Like his willingness to fight for even a moment of my presence isn’t the reason I’m terrified.
“I don’t know.” I say, because the thought of him texting me when I can’t have him hurts almost as much as the thought of never speaking to him again.
The icing on top of the shit cake is my keycard refusing to work.
I understand where Quinn is coming from. There’s a part of me that agrees this is all too much too fast and will only hurt us both. The other part of me is left with a hollow ache between my ribs. And when the light on my room door turns red, I can’t resist plonking my head against the sturdy metal door and growling out my frustrations.
No one had been manning the front desk when I walked by, and now I have to go back down and wait for someone to come help me sort out this key mess. It doesn’t help that it’s late and I’m hungry and I waited on dinner just in case Quinn changed her mind. Which means I’m also disappointed that she didn’t.
I’ve been on my feet too long. My hip aches and my thigh is cramping up. I lean my weight more fully against the door and try to slow my brain. This isn’t the end of the world. Sure, Quinn is beautiful, and funny. She made me laugh more in twelve hours than I have in the last five years. She understands me better than anyone I’ve ever met, too. There was a moment of connection. And here I am jumping the gun because the truth is I know nothing about her.
I just want to.
I thunk my head against the door again, trying to knock her out of my brain, and I almost fall when it opens under me.
“Keep your panties on,” Vic says as I use the doorjamb to catch my balance. “Hey Erik.”
