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“At least tell me what it is,” I plead. A tear is already slipping down my cheek. “You can’t just yank the rug out from under me like this without explaining why.”
He opens his mouth. Makes a weird choked sound. Stares at the sidewalk we’re walking on as he grits out, “I think we moved too fast.”
That’s what I’ve suspected but didn’t want to acknowledge. What I’ve been so afraid of.
Ironically, it’s exactly what Brian told me.
I force men into the place I want them in my life. Over and over again. Apparently I did it to Chase too.
“I’m sorry.” There’s a sob in my throat. No way I can hide it. “You said a few days ago you thought we should take it slow. I should have... listened. I didn’t mean to push it.”
“You didn’t push it. It’s all my fault. I thought I could do this, but I...” His whole face twists, like he’s fighting overwhelming emotion. “But I can’t.”
I’m walking, breathing, holding myself upright—all by the force of my will. What I really need to do is collapse onto the sidewalk in helpless tears and beg him not to do this to me.
But I’m an adult. And these things happen. Sometimes we fool ourselves that relationships are the real thing. When they’re not.
When they’re not.
I’ve done it before. Why am I surprised that I’ve done it again?
“I’m so sorry, Paige,” he goes on. “It’s my fault. Not yours. I never should have done this to you. I thought... I let myself...”
He’s having trouble finishing, but it’s just as well. Because there’s no way I can hear more of what he’s going to tell me.
Not and hold myself together. “It’s okay,” I mumble. We’ve reached my house, and the sight of my front door is a relief, an escape route. “I get it. I really do. It’s my fault as much as yours. We can talk later if you want. I’m going to...” I gesture toward my house with a trembling hand.
“Okay,” he rasps. It looks like he’s going to reach out to touch me, but there’s no way I can let that happen.
I sidestep to put some distance between us.
Then I turn around and run away until I’ve reached the safety of my house, where I can finally fall apart.
Nine
PAIGE: It’s probably best we both have some space, but I’ve got a Christmas present for you. I still want you to have it. I’ll drop it by your house sometime today. I’ll just leave it on the porch so it’s not awkward.
Chase: Ok. Are you ok?
Paige: Not really but I’ll get better. What about you?
Chase: Same.
Chase: I’m really sorry.
Paige: I know. Please don’t say that again.
CHRISTMAS DAY DAWNS crisp and sunny, all the clouds from the days before blown away.
It might as well be mocking me.
I cried most of the night and wake up heavy and exhausted with aching eyes and a weight in my chest that I’m not sure will ever go away.
And the worst thing is I can’t go over to a friend’s house and pour out all my woes. It’s Christmas. Everyone is busy with festivities. I’d never ruin my friends’ holidays with my broken heart.
I’ll probably eventually tell a few of them even if Chase and I agreed to keep our relationship private. It’s over now, and that’s because of him. He can’t dictate how I get through it.
Not that I think he would. He’s never been selfish or controlling. He’s always recognized and cared about how I’m feeling.
