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“Understatement of the year,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Actually, no. I take that back. You’re not complicated. Your life is simple and you’re bored. So you kick up drama to make it more interesting—”
“That’s not fair!”
“Is it not true, though?” I asked. “It’s why you kissed your boss. It’s why you wouldn’t stop talking about kissing him to me—you wanted to make me jealous so you could start drama.”
“No, it’s not—”
“Then why do it?” I demanded.
I didn’t know why, but my voice was coming out faster than I could keep it in. The words flung at her like bullets.
She went quiet. Then said, “I want you to take me home.”
“Where do you think we’re going, Gracelet?”
“This was a mistake.”
“Whatever.”
“Are we breaking up?” she asked.
I looked down at my hands, tight on the wheel. I could have chosen the cop-out and thrown the ‘we were never together’in her face, but that would have just invited more drama.
We were together. We shared a few nights. We were on each other’s minds for a week; connected in a way underneath everything else that neither of us had the ability to explain. Denying it would be immature and a waste of time.
“…yes,” I said.
She crossed her arms and stared out the window.
“I can’t… I can’t do this,” I added.
I didn’t even know what‘this’was, but at the same time, we both knew.
I wasn’t ready for something like this, and she was still enveloped in the barbed wire of her past. If I stayed with her, I’d spend the whole time fighting off that Archer asshole either physically, or from her mind.
And honestly, I had better things to do. I had a career to chart; there was fun to be had. I didn’t have time to get caught up in a web of drama, of deliberately creating problems in my life.
“I know. I’m not worth it,” Grace said softly with a sniffle.
Fuck.I hated it when women cried. “You’re worth it,” I said carefully, driving through the dark. “But I’m bleeding, Grace.”
She went quiet. Then, “I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too,” I said.
I wanted to feel better. Anything to feel better; to make us both feel better. Why couldn’t we go back to the beginning and restart everything? How could I recapture that evening we met last week? Everything had been perfect then, but we’d tainted it.
I needed to have music. I needed to get out of my head before all these words and thoughts and obsessive spirals pulled me down…
Grace looked over at me. I could feel the weight of her gaze on my temple.
“One last song? We’ve got a few minutes before we get to my apartment…”
“Please,” I said a little too quickly, handing her my phone.
How could she see into my head like that?
