Opening my eyes, I roll over onto my back.
Was he right? Was I jealous tonight?
Yes. I was.
I hated how close they were, the smiles they shared, and the way they touched each other so casually. My reaction wasn’t fair. Mackie isn’t mine, and he never will be, which means I need to let him move on. I care about him too much to ruin his future with mine. I just want him to be happy, but the idea that he’s mad at me destroys me. He looked so cold and distant tonight when he walked away from me.
I hated it.
I can’t have him, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want him in my life. Maybe that’s me being selfish again. Mackie cares for me, he’s made it obvious, so if he needs to do this to move on, then shouldn’t I let him?
Groaning, I cover my face in annoyance, and for the first time since I found out what lies in my future, I wish it could be different.
I wish I could be like everyone else.
It’s been three days, and Mackie is barely speaking to me. He avoids me at all costs, going so far as to eat dinner out so he doesn’t have to sit with me. I hate every stiff reply when I try to speak to him.
The whole garage is feeling it. Everyone is on edge, and I never realized just how much Mackie affects the mood here. When he’s happy, everyone else is as well, but now he’s angry and cold, so everyone else is worried and quiet.
Leaning into the kitchen door, I watch him view his latest practice run. My heart hammers in my chest and my hands fist, so I shove them into my pockets.
I remind myself that this is good because he can move on and stop dreaming about something that can never happen.
“When are you two going to make up?” Skylar murmurs from my side, and I whirl around as he nods at Mackie. “Whatever you did, apologize.”
“Why do you think I did something?” I mutter.
“Because Mackie is a good kid and would never hurt you. He would rather hurt himself first, that’s how much he cares, so I’m guessing you fucked up again,” he answers. Despite Sky’s laid-back attitude, he’s very astute, and it’s annoying.
“It’s for the best,” I murmur to Sky.
“Is it? You both seem miserable.” When I glance at him, he sighs. “Just saying, old man, you never looked happy before Mackie, or so I’m told. Why are you working so hard to push him away?”
“Because he deserves to be happy, and I can’t give him that,” I admit.
“Says who?” he retorts. “That’s his decision, not yours. If something hurts this badly, it’s wrong. Sort your shit out before you lose the best thing that will ever happen to you. Someone like Mackie doesn’t come around twice, and if you don’t love him, then someone else will, and you’ll be left with regrets and what-ifs.”
“Not everyone gets to plan a happy future with someone they love like you, Skylar,” I warn. “It’s for the best. Just keep an eye on him for me, okay?”
“You are both stubborn idiots,” he mutters as he walks over to Mackie, stealing his coffee with a grin.
I can’t look away, craving Mackie’s smile, but then I feel the pressure. Shit. Lifting my hand, I pinch my nose, and Skylar catches the movement. “Shit, boss, your nose is bleeding. You good?”
Mackie’s head whips around, and for the first time in days, his eyes are on me, but I wish they weren’t. “Fine, just stress,” I say as I turnaway, but Mackie guides me to sit at the table, ignoring me as I try to wave him off.
Grabbing some tissues, he tilts my head forward and holds them for me. “It should stop soon. I’m fine,” I mutter.
“Shut up and do as you’re told,” Mackie scolds, his voice authoritative, and my eyes widen. He looks away, but I wish he wouldn’t. My hand covers his on the tissues, stealing his warmth, and I allow myself that weakness.
The nosebleed doesn’t last long, and when Mackie approaches with a wet towel and wipes my face, I sit stock-still. He holds my chin gently as he cleans it for me, and the gesture makes me want to drop to my knees and beg for his forgiveness.
I spent my life looking after everyone else. No one has ever looked after me before.
He slows to a stop, his eyes meeting mine, and unspoken words pass between us until I open my mouth and break the tension. “How about we go out this weekend, all of us?” I am desperate to spend more time with Mackie and cheer him up.
He pulls away, balling up the bloody towel. “I have plans.” He stands, tosses it in the trash, and packs his things. “I’m finishing early today. I’ll see you on Monday.”
He leaves, and I’m left staring after him.
