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Or embarrassed him.
Or…something.
He’s made me feel all of the above, too, so an eye for an eye, I guess. If only it made me feel better about lashing out at him.
He didn’t know. Of course, he didn’t. How could he?
I shouldn’t have snapped.
He shouldn’t have assumed.
So, where does this leave us?
In a silent car as he continues straight down the road without a word.
Say something, Mack!
You’re the chatty one. Not me.
That isn’t my job in this relationship.
You’re nice, I’m mean, and you’re cool with it. Remember?I silently remind him.
But nope. Mack stays quiet, his hands relaxing against the steering wheel as the clouds finally break and water splashes against the windshield.
My street comes into view a minute later, and I clear my throat, the sound practically deafening in the otherwise silent cab. “Turn right.”
He follows my order without a word.
“It’s the house on the left,” I add.
The car stops in front of the driveway, and I reach for the door handle.
“Kate, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The softness makes me pause.
Hesitating, I glance at him, my fingers still clutching the door handle. I don’t know what there is to say. He assumed. I snapped. And here we are.
But the guilt emanating from him? Well, it isn’t exactly fair, either.
“It’s fine,” I mutter, unable to take the silent staredown any longer.
“No, it isn’t. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“Not everyone gets their license taken away because of a seizure.”
“I shouldn’t have assumed you were being irresponsible when you were actually being the opposite. I’m an ass.”
“You’re not an ass,” I whisper.
And it’s true. He’s probably one of the sweetest guys I’ve ever met, and I’ve been treating him like crap because of it. Because I like him. I like how he’s kind. I like how he’s patient. I like how he notices people and isn’t afraid to say hello when I’m accustomed to sneaking out in the opposite direction. Hell, I’m envious of him. Jealous of how comfortable he is in his skin, wishing I could feel the same.
“I made an assumption,” he continues. “It was an asshole thing to do.” His hand scrubs over his face, and he pins me with his stare. “I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” I open the door, but he stops me again.
“Hey, Kate?”
I turn back to him. “Yeah?”
