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My girl is furious. I can tell. Steam should be coming from her ears. She’s crying too, which also breaks my heart. Angry crying. Every time a tear dares to leak from her eyes, she furiously wipes it away like she’s disgusted.
I did that to her, I remind myself. I’m the one who made her cry.
But then again, what else is new? I do that a lot lately.
Makes me feel like absolute garbage, too.
Finally, we’re in her neighborhood and she starts gathering her things, as if she’s going to jump out of my car before I’ve got it fully stopped. I watch in disbelief as she puts the American Eagle shopping bag in her lap, along with her purse. Her head is averted and she won’t look at me.
“Ava,” I say quietly, as I apply the brakes, not coming to a complete stop.
I’m afraid if I stop, she really will leap out of the car.
“What?” She turns to glare at me.
“Can’t you understand where I’m coming from?”
“No,” she spits out. “Because you never understood where I was coming from. I know it’s petty and childish to react this way, but damn it, Eli, you can’t work a double standard on me. You broke up with me for going to Spain for a couple of months because you believed I abandoned you. Now you want me to stay away from you for the rest of the season so you can keep your head in the game and not get distracted by my—vagina. It’s such a bunch of bullshit!”
I blink at her, surprised by the hostility in her tone. “I figured coming from a family of football players, you’d totally understand.”
“The football players I’m related to aren’t as emotionally driven as you are. My father knew how to separate the game from his personal life. So does Jake. Even my uncle Owen was good at that, though he’s probably the most emotional out of the three. The most like you,” she explains.
I always knew Owen Maguire was my own personal hero.
“This is different. This is temporary,” I stress. “All I want is to secure my chances to get into the draft. That’s it. I’m doing this for us, baby. For our future together.” I’m brave enough to pull in front of her house and throw the car into park. If she runs right now, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Or how we’ll ever come back from it.
She gapes at me. “It’s different yet exactly the same, and if you can’t see that, then I’ll never be able to explain it to you. You are so frustrating, Eli. Seriously. I love you. But if you need distance, fine. I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you all the distance you could ever want.”
Now it’s my turn to stare at her with my mouth hanging open. “What exactly do you mean?”
She shrugs. “Maybe we’ll end up together, maybe we won’t.”
“So what? That’s it? I ask for one favor, and you tell me there are no guarantees that you’ll stick around for me.” My heart aches, and I tell the son of a bitch to man up.
I can’t believe she’s saying this.
Ava hangs her head, staring at that goddamned shopping bag in her lap. “You still don’t get it.”
My anger sends me right over the edge. “What is there to get?” I roar, making her jump.
The tears flow down her cheeks and she doesn’t bother wiping them away this time. No, my girl lets them fall and she is the saddest I’ve ever seen her. Mad too, I can tell by that angry glow in her pretty eyes.
I am fucking everything up, when all I want to do is to fix this. Fix us and our future so I can guarantee her that I’ll always be there, taking care of her no matter what.
“You’re asking me to make sacrifices for you when you wouldn’t do it for me. How is that fair?”
“I’m only asking you for one thing—” I start but she shakes her head, the look on her face rendering me silent.
“And I only asked you for one thing too, but you couldn’t give it to me. Our relationship feels like a double standard and I’m tired of you trying to convince me to do what you want.” She taps her chest with her finger, a sob leaving her. “I’m choosing me, Eli. And when you’re ready to choose us for real, then talk to me. But until then, leave me alone.”
I don’t say anything, her words shocking me still. She’s so upset.
Again, all on me.
She starts digging in her purse, pulling out a small envelope and setting it on the dashboard. “That’s yours.”
