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He takes a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair. Griffin's obviously thinking about what to say. He's always been choosing his words, I think.
Griffin looks me in the eye. His dark gaze soft and caring.
“I should have told you the truth about how I felt,” he says.
“It's fine if you regret—” I say just wanting this part to be over.
“No, Renee. It's not about regret. I don't regret anything.”
“It was just pretend,” I lie to myself to make it hurt less. “It didn’t mean anything.”
“It did mean something. It meant something to me.” I stare up at him, wishing he would just end it faster.
“Okay, but...it can't have meant that much to you.”
“That much?” he questions, his voice tight with disbelief in his expression.
I want to say there's too much you don't know about me. But that would be giving myself away. That would open the door to so many more questions that I can't answer.
“There's too much we don't know about each other for it to have been?—”
“I think we know a lot about each other. And whatever I don't know, I can learn. Because this isn't a game to me, Renee. It's not pretend.”
And then there's a loud, heavy knock at the door. Keeping me from telling the next lie just to save him from what happens next.
Knock knock knock.
Knock knock KNOCK.
The blood drains from my face. I know exactly who's at the door. Because it’s not the first time. This is what happens. I knew there was no hope.
Griffin
Renee turns white as a sheet. The angry impatient knocks keep coming. And she does nothing. They knock a third time as Renee stares at me.
Something in my blood turns cold. I almost say something to the door, but she stops me. The fear in her eyes stops me.
“Renee?” I say softly.
She throws the blanket off and jumps off the couch. Renee sprints through the living room, keeping her footsteps silent, and I bolt after her.
Renee gets to the door a couple steps ahead of me and slams a deadbolt into place.
“Renee,” a man on the other side shouts. “Renee, I know that was you. Open the damn door.”
“I'm not opening the door and you need to leave,” she says, her voice shaking.
“Open the goddamn door.” The man outside in the hall pounds on the door again. It shakes in the frame, but the deadbolt holds.
It’s nearly four in the morning. What the fuck is going on?
I watch her stand on the other side of the door, watching it like she’s hoping it’ll stay there. Stay shut and keep whoever it is on the other side.
“Come back here,” I tell her in a voice just above a whisper. “Renee. Get behind me.”
She doesn’t move. Fear keeps her in place. It dawns on me that she knows who it is.
“Who is that?” I ask her but she doesn’t answer.
