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“Yes,” she says tightly.
I shake my head. My ears ring. “Why?”
“Because it’s just not going to work,” she says. “I’ve thought about it, and we have too many differences.”
“Like what?” I ask.
She sighs and turns to the side, giving me her shoulder.
“I am widowed, and I have a daughter, and you’re just starting out in the dating world.”
“You don’t think this is going to work because I haven’t been married before?” I ask, confused.
“We’re just in different places in our lives.” She doesn’t look at me.
“It’s not like I’m fresh out of college and you’ve lived a whole life, Natalie,” I say. “So, I don’t have kids. I’m not divorced or anything. But that doesn’t mean I don’t—”
“Do you even know what it means to have kids?” she interrupts.
I don’t answer her. Of course, I don’t.
“You have this whole thing going on.” She waves her hand, gesturing to the restaurant around us. “And I have a daughter and a job, and I’m not going to weigh you down with all this extra responsibility when you told me you’re just starting to really live your dream.”
I have no idea where all this is coming from. “That’s not your decision to make.”
“It’s my decision whether I bring you into Kylie’s life,” she claps back.
“Yeah, and I said I would wait until you were ready. We’re still figuring this out, babe.”
“Don’t call me that,” she says. She sounds irritated.
“I don’t understand why this is suddenly a problem,” I confess. “We were fine the other night. What happened since then?”
“Nothing,” she says and drops her arms by her side. She takes a few steps away from me, putting distance between us. She ends up at the full-length windows that overlook the beach. I stay where I am, letting her have the space she needs. I don’t know what’s going on. “I told you, I’ve just been thinking. And I don’t think this is going to work. We’re too different.”
“How?” I asked. “Since the moment we met, we’ve gotten along like we’ve known each other for years.” She doesn’t respond to that, so I add, “Haven’t we?”
When she’s forced to answer, she sighs.
“I just need you to respect my decision, okay?”
I shake my head and walk to her. “I’ll respect your decision if it makes sense. But nothing you’ve said sounds like a reason why we should break up.”
She spins to face me, and this time her face is riddled with anger.
“Are you telling me I’m not allowed to break up with you?”
“I’m telling you I don’t understand your reasoning.”
“I’m allowed to walk away from you if that’s what I want. You don’t own me and I’m not obliged to—”
“I’m not trying to own you! I just want to know what went wrong in the day and a half since I saw you last. We’re good together, Nat. You were scared I wouldn’t accept you. You told me you like me. What changed?”
“Nothing.”
“You keep saying that. And I don’t believe you.”
“Well,” she says tightly. “I’m not responsible for what you do and don’t believe. If I tell you I don’t want this, then that’s the end of it.”
