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“O-okay.”
That’s not what I want to say. I want to berate him. Make him tell me everything. Admit he doesn’t love me if that’s what’s prompting his behavior right now.
But if he doesn’t want more, he doesn’t. Defying it won’t change anything.
What the hell else can I say but “okay”?
“Are you all right, baby?”
He sounds so tender. I really don’t understand how he can sound so tender and still keep pushing me away.
His tone makes me cry.
“Oh, please don’t.” He pulls me into a soft hug.
I shake against him, burying my face in his chest.
“I don’t want to be free,” I finally manage to say.
“You say that now because you’ve never been free before. But twenty years from now, when you’re trapped in a life with an old man, having never had the chance to do the things you want to do, it’s going to matter to you. I won’t let that happen. I want you in my life for as long as you want it too, but I’m never going to do that to you. I won’t.”
His words only make it worse. Because he’s alluded to the thing I want the most—a life with him—and immediately rejected it as unwanted. I sob against him, held together by nothing but his warm eyes and fast-beating heart.
“O-okay,” I mumble again when my crying has finally faded.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes. I understand.”
I do. I’ve heard what he’s told me, and I know what it means.
I’m never going to get what I want from him.
He loosens his arms. Lifts his head and peers down at my face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m okay. I understand.”
He doesn’t look happy. His face twists like whatever he sees in my expression upsets him. “I’m not saying this has to end. We can still be together—the way we’ve been this past month. We’ve been happy, haven’t we?”
“Yes.” It comes out as almost a croak. “We have.”
“So you’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be okay.”
There’s nothing else to say. We stare at each other for a couple of minutes. Then he gets out of bed, frowning and thoughtful. “I want you to talk to me, Scarlett. Nothing has to change between us.”
“I understand.” I’m repeating that too often, but there are no more words for me to say.
I know the situation now—I know everything—and it’s never going to be what I want it to be.
“Scarlett.”
“I’m okay. Really.” I force a smile. “Kind of upset, but I’ll be okay.”
“Okay.” He leans down to kiss me briefly. “I’ll give you some space. I’m going to take a shower.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
