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Why am I always supposed to be the one who compromises. “Six more months, Emma.” “Move away from your home, Emma.”
“Clay, I am not Avery.”
“I never asked you to be.”
“Then what are you asking me? Because it seems like you have an awful lot of lingering questions about the type of person I am, as well as expectations about what you want from me based on someone else’s relationship, and apparently I’m not allowed to have any when it comes to you.”
He takes a step toward me. “What am I asking you?” He pauses and swallows. “I’m asking you to be mine.”
Oh God.
“But only on your terms.” This time, I can’t prevent the rush of tears that fills my eyes from spilling over. “I don’t know how to make this work.”
And at this moment, I’m not sure I want to. Am I forever going to have to prove myself to him? Will he always be questioning my character? Apparently, he might also be continually comparing me to Avery. I deserve to be loved by someone who will love me in return just as much as I love them, no matter the quirks, faults, or location.
“Then what are we doing here?” He runs his hand over his face and then through his hair. “Emma, my family is at the lake. My best friend is there. It’s a home I put blood, sweat, and tears into. Don’t say no. Just come and spend some time with me and see how it can be.”
I appreciate that he wants me to go there, but not once in this conversation did he really offer to go to New York and see how that can be too. Instead he said okay to a visit to pacify me, yet he has no intention of giving it a chance as a place to live, even if it was part of the time. He also didn’t deny that he still doesn’t trust me. He compared me to my friend, and not once has he told me how he feels about me. Then again, maybe it’s his lack of words that are speaking the loudest.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell him as I slip on my shoes and feel my heart shattering with each passing second. When I woke up this morning, I thought it was going to be hard to say goodbye to him. Never did I anticipate this—an actual goodbye.
Neither one of us says anything else to each other. We’re both done talking, but if his problem is the fact that I won’t give up my entire life for him, while he might decide to trust me again, he has another think coming. Why would I? I already spent too many years of my life with a guy who didn’t think I was worth it. His job was more important than me, and now here I am with another guy who values his house more than the love I could give him. I would have been open to options, to sharing, something. I’m not completely insufferable when it comes to being in a relationship. I think I’m fair.
Then again, without trust, is there even a foundation to build on? I think not.
Am I just being stubborn? No, I truly believe I’m not. When I vaguely pictured a life for us, I saw both places as our home. As for the details, I never got that far, but I certainly never considered it would be all or nothing. I thought my wants and dreams would be just as important to him as his are to me.
I guess I was wrong.
Picking up my backpack, I slip it on as more tears slip down my face. With my heart bleeding out inside my chest, I turn to face him one last time. He’s now sitting on the edge of the bed, which makes him roughly eye level with me, and my chin trembles as I roll my shoulders back and pull myself together to speak.
“Thank you for a great couple of days. I’ve loved all of our conversations over the last few months. I loved getting to play with you at the awards show, I loved being with you this weekend. But . . . I’m not sorry I’m not more like Avery. I happen to like who I am and where I live. I may have met you at the wrong time, but I’ve never ever regretted what happened between us and I’ve fought really hard to get back to you even knowing I might not get that second chance. I tried. I really did and I’m sorry you can’t find it in you to trust me.” I swallow, roll my lips between my teeth and inhale deeply through my nose. “And not that this really matters—” My voice breaks as now the tears won’t stop. “But I loved you, too. So much,” I whisper as I squeeze my eyes together then turn for the door.
Should I have told him this? Maybe not. But if this is it for us, at least I put it out there and left nothing unsaid. He may have said he wanted me to be his, but at the end of the day, I’m not sure he really did. So, it doesn’t matter. I wasn’t loved enough in return.
Again.
“Emma,” he says, emotion thick between the syllables. It doesn’t matter though; it’s too late, and I don’t stay. I can’t. I walk out the door and let it close between us.
29
CLAY
It’s been a week since Emma walked out of the hotel room and left me in Austin. Dumbass that I am, I let her. Not a minute—not a second goes by where I don’t want to kick my own ass for not stopping her. I hurt her, and after I replayed all our conversations, our time together, the packages she’s mailed, and the texts where she pushed for me to open up, I really do see how hard she tried, how much effort she put in to show me that she was into me, and only me. And what did I do? I made her feel unworthy, like she isn’t enough just being who she is.
I feel sick, and I feel angry.
Angry at what? I’m not sure anymore. All I know is I don’t like this place we’re now in, and I don’t know how to get us out of it. I did call her once, but she didn’t answer, and even though we’ve talked a little bit through text, every message from her is short and feels formal.
What do I do now? How do I move us forward from here?
I’m not oblivious to the fact that I think ultimately she’s wanting the same thing I am, for someone to choose her, like I want someone to choose me, and I struck low when I compared us to her relationship with Justin. It doesn’t take a genius to understand that he never put her first. He dragged them out for years at her expense, and she let him. What I meant by saying that is I didn’t want us to turn out like them, where we only see each other every so often. I want to see her every day.
Should I have talked to Avery about Emma? Probably not, but it wasn’t meant to be in a malicious way. I really did and do want to know more about her. Avery is always telling us stories about the three of them, and I soak up any drops she leaves behind.
I also saw in her face the moment Emma realized I’m still having a hard time trusting her. It broke something between us that I didn’t even know was breakable, and the not-so-funny part about all of this is I’m not so sure that’s true anymore. I’ve been so hung up on how things played out a year and a half ago, and it took the door slamming behind her for me to see how different and sure she is now. I don’t believe for a second that Emma would do anything to intentionally hurt me or betray the trust I’ve put in her, so why am I still punishing her? I thought I had moved past it, but maybe I haven’t.
No, that’s not true. I have moved past it. She wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear, and I got angry. I said and implied things I didn’t mean to get a reaction out of her, and did I ever get one.
