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“I’m sorry,” I said automatically.
“Fuck you,” she said, before turning and going to her room, slamming the door so loud that the neighbors were going to complain.
I got up and poured myself another shot.
After Lark went to her room, I sat on the couch and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.
Lark said she was in love with me. Everything came down to that. When had it happened? If she was feeling that way, she should have told me sooner. I would have stopped fucking her, that was for sure. I’d have put the brakes on everything we’d been doing. Seeing her hurting was awful. It made me sick.
She deserved someone who could love her back. Lark deserved to be fucking cherished like the treasure she was. She deserved fireworks and vacations to private islands and chocolates and diamonds and all that shit.
I couldn’t give her what she needed. I couldn’t love her in the way she deserved. It wasn’t my path. I’d thought we’d been going in the same direction and now I didn’t have a map for where to go next.
Apologizing and seeing if she was okay seemed to be the first step, so I made up a little snack plate and grabbed a glass of water and knocked on her door.
“Lark?” I asked.
“Fuck off,” she said.
“I brought you something to eat. I can make you some dinner if you want,” I said.
“What part of ‘fuck off’ don’t you understand?” she said.
“It’s just that… I’d leave this out here, but I don’t want Clementine to eat it,” I said.
Lark cursed a bunch of times before she opened the door.
“What?” she snapped.
“Snacks?” I said, holding the plate up.
“Are you serious right now?” she asked.
“Yes?” I said.
Lark’s eyes narrowed. “I am still incredibly pissed off at you, but I’m also hungry.”
I waved the plate under her nose. “Can I come in and talk?”
Her eyes were red from crying and I just wanted to throw the plate and hug her.
“I guess,” she said, snatching the plate from me. I pushed the door open and sat on the edge of her bed.
“Hydration,” I said, handing the water to her. She drained the glass and set it down on her nightstand.
Lark nibbled at the snacks and I waited for her to say something.
“You don’t have anything to say?” she asked.
“About…” I said, trailing off.
“I have never fantasized about strangling someone before this moment,” she said, closing her eyes.
“I mean, you can choke me if you want,” I said. That would be so sexy.
“Sydney. If I have to tell you to be serious one more time, I’m going to throw you out the window,” Lark said.
“I’m sorry,” I said automatically. “I am.”
