"I'm pretty sure we'realreadyfighting."
"Right. So why would you want this? I'm clearly going to fight you every step of the way."
"I'm sure you will."
I shake my head at him, unsure of which nasty comeback I want to throw at him.
"Blake, I'm a half-intelligent person, right?"
"Sure." I give an inch.
"Then why the hell do you think I would choose you if I didn't think I could handle you? If you weren't exactly what I want and what I need, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be fighting for you. I'd be at home with my daughter."
The mention of Clover makes me tense up. "Exactly. You should be at home with her, not here fighting with me."
"Fightingforyou, Blake."
I ignore his correction. "You have someone who needs you. It's not fair to Clover for you to welcome a shit storm like me into your life, who's only going to wreak havoc."
"Then don't."
"What an odd thing to say." I'm doing anything I can to deflect the seriousness of this conversation. It's too much for me.
He gives me the satisfaction of a singular laugh before continuing his point, which I'm clearly not following. "Don't wreak havoc when you don't have to. If you just leaned into this and let it naturally progress where it's going to go, then there would be a lot less chaos. Don't run away from me, and I won't have to stir shit up by chasing you."
"Or you could just leave me the fuck alone, like I prefer."
"See, I don't think you actually like being alone as much as you say you do."
"You don't know me, Kass!"
"I know enough. I want to know more, but that requires you to trust me and trust this."
"How many different ways do I have to say this, Kass? I don't want anything serious withyouor withanyone."
"Would you just open your mind and listen to me for one second?"
"Don't tell me what to do. I'm a grown-ass woman, fully capable of making decisions for myself."
"I'm not telling you what to do. I'm heavily suggesting you don't self-sabotage like you always seem to do. I'm telling you that I, a grown-ass man who knows what he wants, isn't going to let you slip away that easily." His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. "I care too much about your happiness."
"You think you're what's going to make me happy?"
"No. This." He gestures between us. "This could be what saves you from yourself."
"I don't need saving." At this point, I'm seething. If he thinks this is what I need to hear, then he doesn't know me at all. "Get out."
"Blake..."
"Leave."
We have a stare-off for what feels like eternity before he finally gets up from the couch. He turns his back to me, and a piece of my heart turns rigid. This is why I don't let people in. They always start to think they know what's best for me.
With one hand on the doorknob, he looks over his shoulder. Even from over here, I can see the tears in his eyes. "Call me when you're ready to drop this facade and feel something real."
His words are like a sucker punch to my gut. What the fuck is he even getting at? Though I don't fully understand,I can't help but feel like there's a hint of truth to his words. Is this a facade?
No. This is who I am. And if he doesn't want to accept that, it's no loss to me.
