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My smile froze on my face, fear reentering the mix. Oh, my Lord, I wondered, is this what it was like for Mara all the time? So many emotions? I covered my stomach with the palm of my hand to calm it.
His eyes tracked my movements and he relaxed back against the counter, his eyes softening on my face.
“Willa, I’m not breaking up with you, but I’m a little disconcerted to see how easy it would be for you to walk away.”
I nodded, understanding how it must have looked to him.
“It wouldn’t have been easy, but I’m used to hiding my real feelings, and I don’t ever want to lose you.”
“You could see me with someone else?”
My stomach twisted. I wrapped both arms around my middle, and admitted, “If I had to.”
He studied my face, and it didn’t appear as though he liked what he was seeing.
“Willa, it’s the lying and covering up that I’m uncomfortable with, I very much want to be with you.”
I hollowed out and deflated in my seat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, urging my heart to catch up with reality and stop throwing curveballs of emotion. I shook my head, I hated emotional upheaval. I needed peace.
“You’re shaking your head. What does that mean?”
I ignored that and responded to his earlier statement.
“We’ve only been together for a little over two weeks. You said you’d give me a month.”
He walked to my patio doors and gazed out at the view of the greenspace I backed onto. It wasn’t much but it was mine, it was contained, and it was peaceful.
He spoke facing the glass, “Those people, they’re so straight forward, their work is honest, they’re all about family, and it occurred to me that we are doing a disservice to ours by covering up what we are to each other.”
“If we tell them, we’ll never be able to salvage what we had if things go south.”
“That ship has sailed,” he turned back around, his hands loose on his slim hips, his face severe. I stared into my lap.
“They’ll have expectations of us, of me…”
“Yes, they will, but so do I. Don’t you have expectations? Hopes, at least?”
My brain was firing on all cylinders, my thoughts spinning a web of sticky fear from which I was desperately trying to extricate myself. I tried to make sense of the connections I was making.
“But they’ll be so disappointed if we break up…”
“What about how I feel, Willa,” he broke in impatiently, “does that track for you at all?”
He’d never spoken to me like that. I swung around to look at him and the overriding emotion at that moment was fear. I forced a smile I didn’t feel to appease him.
“Of course, you matter, and what you feel matters. But…”
He gaped at me.
“What?” I cried, not understanding what was freaking him out.
“Are you so disconnected? You’re smiling and holding your stomach and your eyes are full of fear and I can’t read you at all. What the hell, Willa? Do you want this, or not?”
“I don’t know!” I cried out, then sucked in a breath. “That’s not what I meant.”
His face closed and his long legs ate up the space between the balcony and the front door. He grabbed his keys and his wallet.
“Barrett! Wait, please!” I rasped; my voice stuck in my throat.
