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Alexander stands in the kitchen watching me, and he reminds me of the first version of the man I met. Before he thawed. “Say something,” he pleads.
“I don’t feel like talking,” I mumble under my breath as I load the dishes into the dishwasher.
I wish he’d drop it. Let me stew and harness my emotions alone. Don’t make me do anything while I try to figure out why my brain and heart can’t be on board with this just yet.
Instead, he comes up behind me and puts his arms around my waist. His lips touch the side of my neck, and I jerk away.
“I don’t want to fight,” he mumbles, and I believe him. In fact, I don’t want to fight either, but there is too much fogging the air between us.
Instead of trying to understand these feelings inside me, I decide to let them all out. No filter. No deliberation. No warning.
“You were treating me like I was a kid,” I whisper, looking down at where his hands hold mine.
“I’m sorry, Sunny.”
It’s not enough.
“I’m twenty years old, Alex. I know what I want, and I don’t need you to try and push me into something.”
I pull away from him and walk across the room. I don’t trust myself to be touched by him, afraid I’ll give in and let him pull me to bed so we can sweep all of these feelings under the rug where I know they’ll fester and ruin us.
“Is it wrong for me to want the best for you?” he asks, crossing his arms and staring at me with a furrowed brow.
“I don’t want to do that program. But you won’t listen to me,” I cry. “You think it’s best for me because you want it for me. I’m telling you I don’t want it.”
“Why don’t you want it?”
“It doesn’t matter why.”
“Yes, it does.”
“Why are you doing this?” I beg, my chin starting to tremble.
He clenches his jaw and glances away. “You don’t want it because you don’t think you’re good enough, Sunny. Admit it.”
“So what?”
His jaw drops. “So what? It drives me crazy to hear you think you’re not good enough. I don’t know how else to get you to see how talented you are!”
“Fine, I’m talented. Can we drop it?” Tears brim in my eyes, and I wish this conversation never happened. I wish that couple never came over. I wish that program didn’t exist. I wish Alexander and I could spend another perfect day together without having to face this.
“No, Sunny. We can’t drop it. I just want to understand what you’re so afraid of.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“Are you scared to do it on your own?” he asks, his tone growing softer.
It feels like a punch to my chest. “I’m not scared of anything,” I say through clenched teeth.
“You are. It’s why you left art school, isn’t it? You blame it on the divorce and money, but I think it’s because you were scared of being alone. Of being different. Of failing…on your own.
“Alexander, please stop.” A whimpering sound escapes as my voice breaks.
“It’s why the farthest you made it from your mother’s house is my house.”
“Why are you being so mean to me?”
“I’m not being mean, Sunny. I’m trying to help you.”
