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My heart is racing as I watch him. He’s like a bomb about to explode.
“I’m so sorry, Henley.”
“Don’t be.” He flicks the pants again without even looking at me. “I just need to clean out this room, and then I can move on.”
“Come here.” I go to hug him.
He pulls away from me. “Don’t. The last thing in the world that I want is to hug it out. Go home, Juliet,” he snaps in frustration.
God, how do I deal with this?
“Okay, I will,” I whisper. “Can I help a little before I go?”
“No.” He flicks a T-shirt in the air. “I’ve got it.”
Maybe coming here wasn’t the right thing to do.
“I’ll clean the bathroom,” I offer.
“No, Juliet,” he yells. “How many times do I have to tell you? Go the fuck home.”
He’s angry.
My eyes well with tears for him. He is feeling so out of control in the situation. I don’t blame him. I’m feeling pretty out of control here myself.
“I’m not going anywhere, Henley,” I fire back. “If you think I’m leaving you alone right now, you are sadly mistaken.”
His furious eyes rise to meet mine. “Leave or I’m calling security.”
What the hell?
“Hen.”
“I mean it. I’m fine. I want to do this alone.” He flicks a T-shirt. “I’ll come over later when I’ve dealt with all of this.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yep.” He puts a pile of T-shirts into a suitcase.
I watch him for a moment, unsure whether to leave. He wants to do this alone; I think I need to respect his wishes and give him some space.
“Okay.” I walk over to him. “Can I have a kiss goodbye?”
He pecks me quickly on the cheek.
“You’ll be over later?” I ask.
“Yes.” Without making eye contact, he goes back to folding.
“I’ll cook us dinner.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He’s coming over afterward. I feel a little better, but I really don’t want to leave him here. “I love you.”
“You too,” he says, distracted.
With one last long look at my dear heartbroken man, I walk out the door. This is a complete nightmare.
