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“I can’t do this right now?—”
“What did I do?” I demanded. “We were happy on Sunday, and now it’s a week later and we aren’t speaking. What could I have possibly done to piss you off like this?”
“You didn’t do anything?—”
“Then tell me what’s happening?—”
“I’ll come by tonight,” he said firmly. “We’ll talk then. Now go back inside before your father comes out. I’d rather him not see us together.”
My body was racked with trembles and shivers. Despite the heat of the summer day, I’d never felt so cold. I could feel myself shake like I was on the verge of hypothermia. Instead of breaking down into a mixture of tears and screams, I forced myself to leave the table and walk away with my head held high…and my heart shattered in my chest.
I’m on my way.
I was relieved that he’d made good on his word, but I was also terrified by that message. It was so straightforward and simple, with no emotion whatsoever, no attachment. It felt like we were about to have a business meeting.
Instead of taking a seat on the couch as I waited, I paced the room, my arms crossed over my chest, my heart squeezed so tight I felt like I might pass out. The anxiety of the impending moment was almost too much. Almost made me want to leave the apartment altogether.
But then he walked inside, dressed in all black, his sunglasses gone because it was nighttime. He entered the room and looked at anything but me for several seconds. Then he finally straightened his head and locked his gaze with mine.
I felt like I would die right then.
His stare wasn’t what it used to be. There was no light or joy in his gaze. There was only coldness and indifference. He treated me like I was a business associate or someone who had already given him what he wanted, and he had no further use for me.
How could everything change so quickly?
“I don’t understand.” It was all I could bring myself to say.
He closed his eyes and looked away. “Scarlett, it just ran its course?—”
“Ran its course?” My arms dropped to my sides in shock. “On Sunday, you were talking about us having kids. Run its course, my fucking ass.” God, I could slap him right now. “What aren’t you telling me, Axel? Because this makes no fucking sense.”
His eyes remained glued to mine, dead on the surface.
“You said you love it when I call you babe.”
He said nothing.
“And now…we’re just done?” I snapped. “What aren’t you telling me?”
His eyes shifted away.
“This isn’t you…”
“Scarlett—”
“Baby.” As I said it, my voice cracked. “That’s what you call me. Not fucking Scarlett.”
He closed his eyes and gave a sigh, like he was desperately annoyed or deeply wounded.
“I don’t want you to call me Scarlett.”
He kept his eyes closed. “I just don’t think this is going to work.”
“Why?”
He opened his eyes. “It’s just not.”
“Why?”
