Sometimes, I still can’t believe I fell into the trap of this show. It has a lot of unrealistic moments, but I just can’t stop watching. Only a few more episodes till this season is over. I’m staying up for this.
The sounds of snow crunching under tires outside the window draws my attention. I don’t even care that Mark is about to see me pigging out in the living room. He wanted to live together. This is what he gets.
The door in the kitchen that leads to the garage opens, and Mark appears carrying a grocery bag.
If those are snacks, I would not be upset.
He tiptoes in, turning slowly to close the door. Yesterday, I was napping on the couch when he came home, so I’m guessing he assumes that’s a possibility today too.
I giggle.
“You’re awake.”
“I can’t nap every day.”
“If you wanted to, you could.”
He moves into the living room, setting the bag on the counter and shrugging off his coat. His eyes never leave mine as a smile stretches across his face.
“What?”
He shakes head, but his grin only grows. Look at him, standing there, leaning on the chair with his dark jeans and brown boots and forest green collared sweater. The stubble he chose not to shave this morning is quite sexy.
“Tell me,” I say and play with the cover of the blanket. I have to look at something else. Enjoying seeing him walk through the door after a long day—well, I need the distraction. I can’t afford to think of him as more than a friend.
“It’s nothing.”
“Mark,” I scold and then pause the show. I can’t stand not knowing what he’s thinking, but I also don’t want to miss anything.
“Fine. I just like coming home and seeing you on the couch. It’s nice. And you’re eating. That’s great.”
But he wants to move knowing I might not go, too?
I don’t get him.
“I’ll move to my room.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t . . . we can’t . . . it’s just less complicated if I leave.”
“I wasn’t trying to make things complicated. I just like having you here. I like being around you. I like seeing you. It’s just nice to not be alone.”
“I know.” I can’t stop the tears. “I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to do this alone, and that is exactly what I’ll be when you leave.”
His eyes glaze over as he steps toward me.
“Don’t. I just. I didn’t say much before because I hadn’t processed it, but I have now. Why did you want me to move in with you if you’re just going to leave?”
He sits next to me and says, “Because I want to be near you. I want you in my life, Syd, but my life isn’t in Wyoming.”
“And mine is.”
“I know.”
“So, what do we do?” I ask, refusing to look at him.
“I don’t know yet.”
