She finally glances up at me, the closed-off look in her espresso eyes hitting me like a gut punch. “I can’t do this, Matty,” she says dryly, giving a little shake of her head.
I cock a brow. “Dowhat?”
“Me and you,” she replies in a clipped tone. “This’ll never work.”
My stomach lurches, pulse skipping. Though her words land like a blow, I can’t help but scoff, trying to laugh it off. “Bullshit,” I grumble, rolling my eyes. “It was working just fine yesterday. What the hell changed?”
She shakes her head again, averting her gaze.
“What changed, Blair?” I ask again, gentler this time. “Talk to me.”
She doesn’t. Her eyes zero in on her computer screen as she chews on the inside of her cheek, pointedly ignoring me just like she did the first day we worked together. Except now, after everything that’s happened between us, being iced out like this fuckinghurts.
“Blair,” I venture, refusing to let this go.
She snaps her head up, eyes narrowing on mine as she bites out a harsh, “Stop.”
I slap my hands against my desk, pushing back in my chair with a frustrated sigh. “No, fuck that,” I say, raising my voice. “You know what? I’m done.”
“Good!” she snaps back exasperatedly. “Youshouldbe done with me! This was never going to work, so it’s about time you stopped trying.”
I shake my head with a wry chuckle, stabbing my fingers through my hair. “No, Blair, I’m not done with you,” I clarify. “Not even fuckingclose. But I’m done letting you push me away when something’s clearly wrong. I’m done sitting back and giving you space like I don’t care when I do.”
Her tough exterior falters for a split second, and in that fleeting moment, I catch of glimpse of something raw in her eyes– a flash of pain before she quickly looks away. It’s like a crack in her armor, one she’s desperately trying to patch up, but I see it. She’s fighting herself, her emotions warring with her need to stay composed, to keep her distance. And here I am, battling just as hard, trying to hold onto what I thought we were building.
“I can’t,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. She bites down on the inside of her cheek again, like she’s desperately trying to keep everything she’s feeling from spilling out. “Let’s just work, okay?”
“How can I do that when I know something’s wrong?” I grit out, my frustration mounting. It’s not just me she’s pushing away right now. It’s everything inside her that she refuses to let out; the vulnerability that she can’t stand letting anyone see.
“Matty, please,” she rasps, her voice thick with emotion, cracking under the weight of whatever she’s holding in. “Just…” she trails off, her eyes turning glassy, and I officially can’t take it anymore.
I shoot to my feet, my chair rolling away as I swiftly round the corner of my desk and move toward her. I do it withoutthinking, practically on autopilot as I close the distance between us.
“Hey,” I say gently as I pull her up from her chair, wrapping my arms around her and holding her close.
She doesn’t resist. Instead, she melts against me, pressing her face into my chest as her fingers tangle in the fabric of my t-shirt. I can feel her body trembling, her breath hitching in short, uneven gasps.
I tighten my grip around her slender frame, not knowing what to say, only knowing I want to hold her and make it better somehow. She shudders a quiet sob, muscles gradually slackening as she lets go of whatever she’s been carrying. The feel of her in my arms, so fragile and yet so strong at the same time, is everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I’m afraid I might lose. The wetness of her tears soaks into my shirt, her pain radiating through me with every shuddering breath she takes.
“I’d bring him back, if I could,” I murmur, my voice ragged. “Even if it meant you wouldn’t be mine, I’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant you’d be happy, Blair. That’s all I want, for you to be happy.”
She pulls back slightly, eyes red-rimmed as they lift to meet mine. “Maybe I don’t deserve to be happy,” she whispers.
I gently cup her chin, lifting her face toward mine and searching her eyes. “You do,” I say firmly, sweeping a dark strand of hair behind her ear. “You deserve the world, Blair. I just wish I could give it to you.”
“Jesus, Matty,” she breathes, snorting a sarcastic laugh through her tears. “Where the hell did you come from?”
The corner of my mouth ticks up. “Detroit, Michigan.”
She rolls her eyes, a quiet chuckle slipping from her throat as she lifts a hand to wipe the wetness from her cheeks.
“C’mon,” I urge, grasping her hand and leading her down the aisle toward the lounge area at the back of the command center.I know I can’t force her to heal, but I can hold her as she cries, I can listen and just be here for her.
By some miracle, she actually allows me to guide her over to the couch in the far corner, not even putting up a fight when I sink down and swiftly pull her onto my lap. Shifting her body sideways so I can see her face, I tuck another wild strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering there for just a second longer than necessary.
“Talk to me, baby,” I say, my voice softer now. “Tell me what’s going on.”
I’m all too aware of the tension in her body, the way she’s coiled like a spring, ready to snap at any moment. I want to be the one to unwind her, to release all that pent-up emotion.
