Page 12 of Before I Lost You

“Fine.” I shrug. “Surprised you’re even saying hello.”

“Well, technically, I haven’t said hello.” His smile widens. I can’t tell whether he’s flirting with me or being mean. This sucks.

“That’s kind of rude since we know each other and all.”

“Do we?” he asks, eyebrow raised again. “Don’t recall getting to know you.”

“Are you always a jerk?” I snap, hating myself a little for it, but damn.

But Kenneth just laughs, head thrown back and all, like he finds mesofucking amusing. I don’t know if I want him to find me amusing. I don’t know how I feel about this interaction at all.

“Can I sit?” he asks softly, and I narrow my gaze. “Only if you want me to.”

“Oh, now you’re going to be polite?” I roll my eyes.

“I can be polite…” he trails off as he sits next to me, leaving plenty of space between us. When I look at him, his body is turned toward me, and he’s staring at my face intently. “So…”

“So?”

“I-I guess I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being a jerk.” He looks bashful for once, and I can’t figure it out. Can’t figure him out. How does he go from being a jerk in control of the situation to… this? “I’m not actually… disinterested. I just have some baggage I’m still dealing with.”

My spine straightens, and it feels like I’ve been zapped with a wave of energy. “Uh, did someone break your heart?” Is thatwhy you won’t give me a chance? This I can deal with. I can be patient.

“Not exactly,” Kenneth replies. “But he still left me. Everyone does.”

I frown. “So what happened with him?”

“He said I didn’t love him enough to get married.” Kenneth shrugs. “That he could feel it.”

“Well, did you?” I ask, genuinely curious now. He was going to marry someone else. He wasn’t going to cross paths with me. If he had taken that road, made that choice, we would never be here today. Somehow, I’m thankful that guy felt that way. I know that makes me selfish, but whatever.

“No. I didn’t,” he replies, looking ashamed of himself. “I-I didn’t realize it back then, but I see it differently now. He was right, but in the moment, all I felt was pain from him leaving me behind.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Is it?” Again with the eyebrow raise. It’s truly a talent. “Because I think it just makes me a hypocritical asshole.”

“When you’ve gone through something traumatic, the brain doesn’t always pick and choose how to react based on context. If you were abandoned in the past by someone important, you will always feel trauma from that. Anything could trigger you,” I tell him, and his face goes blank. I think I may have fucked up, made him feel too exposed.

“How would you know someone abandoned me?” he asks, voice tight.

“I don’t really know how I know,” I admit, because it makes no sense. “I just do—and you said everyone leaves you.”

He nods. “It was my dad. He left me when I was little.”

“I don’t want to be cliché, but I really am sorry.” I wince. “No one deserves that.”

“Thanks,” he says, and I notice he didn’t say it was okay, or that it happened a long time ago. He’s not diminishing the impact this has had on his life, and I can appreciate that. It makes him feel… real.

There’s a long moment of silence, and before it can get more awkward, I clear my throat. “It’s getting late,” I say softly, and he looks surprised. “I’m gonna head home, maybe eat cereal for dinner. But you take care of yourself, okay? I’ll see you around.”

I get up from the bench, hating myself for doing this, but I don’t want to beg him again. If we see each other again at some point and he wants to ask me out, then I’m in. But right now—

“That’s depressing…” he trails off, not acknowledging my goodbye, not saying it back. It irks me.

“You don’t know my cereal.” I shrug.

“Come on, Conrad.” He smiles at me and grabs my wrist. The skin-to-skin contact makes it feel like he’s burning me. “Let’s go get actual food.”