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“Then tell me you love me. Tell the world about us as a couple without me getting pregnant first,” I challenged.
“Jules, don’t do this.”
My heart didn’t just break in two, it shattered. He was unable to want me for only me. Every insecurity I’d been conquering over the last few weeks slammed back with a vengeance. “You’ll have to be more specific about what you don’t want me to do: want more? Love you? Want you to love me?”
He stepped closer, looking exhausted. I felt a measure of guilt about bringing all of this up on Sarah’s birthday.
“I want to give you the world.”
But not his heart. That still belonged in the past.
“If that’s true, then why can’t our friends and families know about us? Do you realize how it makes me feel that you want to keep us a secret? It’s as though you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”
“That’s not true.”
“But it feels true.” In my gut, I knew that any woman in my situation would have had the same reaction to what had happened on campus. It didn’t matter that it hit my trigger points.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
“I know you didn’t.” I did believe him in my heart and my head, but his lack of intention to hurt me only proved the point. He wasn’t ready to move on. He might not mean to make me feel this way, but he couldn’t help himself, either.
He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Can we please table this until tomorrow? I’m approaching capacity for today. This on top of it is a lot.”
In that moment, I grasped that whatever he was struggling with went deep. “I know it is.”
“I would like to go home, get some sleep, and start over tomorrow. Can we do that? Please?”
I nodded, trying not to resent the fact that I’d yet to see the home where he would be sleeping tonight. “Sure. Of course.”
Relief immediately came over his expression. He came over to give me a kiss on the cheek. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
He left, going out my door without a glance back, seemingly in a hurry to get away.
I lasted the time it took to hear his retreating footsteps down the hall before I collapsed in silent sobs onto the floor.
* * *
After a full hour of crying,I picked myself off the floor and thought one thing: I needed to leave.
Right now. Because I didn’t trust myself to stay. Tomorrow, Mark would come over. Did I really think he’d be ready to love me then? He’d said everything by not saying enough. Although it was tempting to wait, hoping he’d change his mind, I knew myself too well. Hoping for that change would end up becoming a rabbit hole I wouldn’t be able to pull myself out of it. I’d stayed once, waiting for someone to love me the way I deserved. I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t stay.
Hope was for optimists, and I was a realist. My reality was that I needed to plan for my future with my son. I refused to wallow in misery. I didn’t have the luxury. Instead, I had a little person relying on me to keep my shit together. Step one was going home.
Knowing Mark would be by tomorrow, I took the chicken way out and started packing up my SUV tonight.
It took two hours and a dozen trips to load everything up, then another hour to finish cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. The last thing I wanted was to skip out leaving a dirty apartment behind. That would hardly show my appreciation.
Finally, I penned a note to Haylee and another one to Mark. I left them both in envelopes, thinking I would slip them under their doors in the morning. Settling onto the couch, I planned to get on the road at the crack of dawn.
* * *
After eight hours of driving,two of them stuck in commuter traffic, we finally stopped at a Marriott I’d reserved online. We were ten miles south of Washington DC off of I-95. This would split the trip in two parts and ensure I didn’t take risks with a long drive straight through. I counted my blessings that the drive had been uneventful thus far. Tristan had slept for more than half the time, and we’d only stopped once for gas and his lunch. I made two trips, toddler in hand, to get our suitcases into the hotel room. God willing, nothing would get stolen from my car while it sat overnight in the hotel parking lot.
Thankful I’d packed snacks, I went about getting Tristan bathed and into pajamas, ready for bed despite the fact it was only late afternoon. Doing so now made one less thing to do before falling into bed tonight. As it was, I was ready for sleep now.
We’d settled down for television, and I’d ordered room service when Mark’s number flashed up.
“Hello.”
