The moment I walk in the door, Sydney rises from the couch. The balloons and décor I’d hung are still scattered around the room.
I’d stayed out later than I normally do to sober up and because I was hoping she’d be asleep. I don’t want to do this right now. Indeed, I need more time to think. Sydney and I can’t just fight and go our separate ways. Whether she likes it or not, we are stuck with each other.
Her eyes are bloodshot as she watches me cautiously.
“I wasn’t sure if you were coming home.”
“To be honest, I wasn’t sure either.”
Truthfully, I tried to stay somewhere else. I asked to crash at both my friends’ places and they said no.
“Umm . . . so . . . do you want to talk?” She moves to the end of the couch, clearly giving me room to sit next to her, but I take the chair instead.
My heart still aches, and my brain is still in shock over this day. Sitting next to her would just escalate both. I’d be tempted to hold her and kiss her and tell her that I . . . I don’t even know.
God, it hurts.
“You know what, I can’t do this right now. Let’s . . . wait till tomorrow, okay?”
“No, please. Let’s do it now.”
“Sydney. I don’t think it’s smart.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m pissed!”
She flinches, which makes me feel guilty.
“I’m sorry, I just thought we were good. Solid. Ready for the next step. Today . . . was not how I imagined it would go.”
“No, I gathered that it wasn’t.”
I was an idiot for thinking we could fix an argument and I could propose. Propose! All in one day. Obviously, I’m in no state to be having serious discussions.
“Let’s save it for tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to wait for tomorrow, Mark. I’m so, so sorry. I never intended to turn those papers in, but I had to be smart. I knew you’d lose everything if you didn’t go back to Manhattan, and at the same time, there was no guarantee that after you left, we’d find a way back to this. Tous. I . . . I should have just talked to you.”
I nod. Process her words.
I guess we are doing this.
“I didn’t want to leave you, Sydney, but you insisted that I do. When I saw those papers and found out you knew about my inheritance, how was I supposed to think they don’t go hand in hand? That’s exactly what it looked like. Hell, Sydney, what else are you keeping from me?”
“Nothing, I swear. It was a miscommunication, and I should have come to you.”
Yes, she should have.
“You didn’t even give me a chance. That fucking hurts.”
She reaches for me, but I step back.
“I’m going to go to bed. You should too.”
“No, I want to talk this out and fix it.”
I take a deep breath and when I let it out, I say, “I’m not so sure we can do that.”
