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He nods.
“What’s keeping you in New York? Besides your mom and Sebastian?”
“School,” I reply. “Internships are coming up soon, and I have a good shot at getting into a really good hospital. And what about Mary? I promised we’d never be apart.”
“Mary could always visit. And you could get a transfer. I could help get you into a really good hospital here,” he counters, appearing to have thought this all through.
Why does he want to leave New York? What isn’t he telling me?
“I can’t leave. It’s my home,” I reply honestly. “I finally feel like I belong there.”
My answer has disappointed him. “I understand, forget I said anything.” He returns his gaze back to the TV, indicating this conversation is over. But I want to know what’s sparked this suggestion.
“Why don’t you want to go back to New York?”
I see the hair on his arms stand on end. “It’s becoming tiresome. I think I need a change.”
“And that change is moving halfway across the world?” I ask, beginning to panic. “If you need a change, find a new gym. Or geta haircut. What you’re proposing isn’t a small change. It’s life-changing.”
Dixon senses my mood shift and frowns. “I’m sorry if I upset you. Forget it.”
I shake my head. “No, I can’t. If you’re unhappy, then I need to know. Have I done something?” I rack my brain for anything I’ve done to tick him off.
As I’m listing all the possible things in my head, Dixon pulls me into his lap. I look into his tender eyes and see nothing but despair. I’m sure that look wasn’t there a week ago. What’s going on?
“Dixon—” He cuts me off by pressing his lips to mine.
“Forget this conversation ever took place,” he says around my mouth.
“No,” I stubbornly retort, refusing to let his charm distract me. “Tell me what’s wrong.” When he tries to kiss me again, I pull away and stand my ground.
He sighs once again. “I’m afraid that once we’re home, all of this”—he circles his finger around the room—“will just be a distant memory. I want this with you every day, but…”
“But what?” I prompt, waiting for him to finish.
He works his jaw angrily. “But New York is filled with…fuck! I don’t know.” He suddenly picks me up and lightly tosses me onto the sofa, my ass bouncing on the soft cushions. I watch as he stands up and walks out the front door, slamming it shut behind him.
Whatwas that about?
New York is filled with what?
I should let him calm down, but I can’t. I need to know what’s wrong. Counting to ten, I stand and go outside to find him. I don’t have to look far as he’s standing a few feet away, having a smoke.
“Dixon?” My voice is a mere whisper out here in the open. His shoulders stiffen when he hears my voice. “Dixon, you need to talk to me. You’re scaring me.”
Silence.
Tears begin forming in my eyes, but I wipe them away because I’m no longer that girl who cries at the first sign of trouble. I walk toward him but give him some space. “If you’re really serious about moving here, I could maybe think about it. But I can’t make that decision—”
“Please, Maddy, forget I said anything,” he says irritably, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
I sniff. “No, I will not. I’ve got this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach that you’re not telling me something.” I place my hands over my tummy, suddenly feeling sick. “If you’re unhappy with our relationship, or me, I can change. Just tell me what it is.” I know I sound incredibly desperate, but I will do anything to make this relationship work.
“Don’t you get it?” he spits, spinning around to glare at me as he throws his cigarette to the ground. “It’s me.” He jabs his finger violently into his chest. “I’mthe problem. You’re perfect. I’m the messed-up bastard who doesn’t deserve you.”
“What are you talking about?”
I’m met with a wall of silence, which annoys me. “Dixon, please. Just tell me what’s wrong!”
