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“I have no idea what we’re even arguing about!” I shout, throwing my hands in the air. “I asked you to move in with me and you got your back up and started ripping my head off!”
“Because you’re just trying to solve my money problems!” She struts out of the bedroom and down the hall, beelining for the door. “You think you’re in love with me and you’re not! You’re just caught up, being in a relationship for the first time. I give it six months before you’re fed up with me.” She shoves her feet in her Converse shoes, and her finger in my chest. “Two if I move in here with you!”
“Are you fucking serious right now?” I stalk toward her, backing her up against the door. She drops the attitude, apprehension creeping into her expression. “You’re trying to tell me I don’t love you? That I’m not fucking crazy about you? That I can’t possibly know what love is because I’ve never felt it before?”
Those mossy eyes flicker as her head tips back to meet my gaze.
“I won’t apologize for not loving anyone else before you, Claire, and I won’t even entertain the idea that you think that I don’t love you. Tell me, are you trying to convince yourself because you’re worried about getting hurt, worried I’m going to leave? Or are you saying this because you don’t love me? Because you’re trying to let me down easy?” That’s fucking bullshit. She knows it and I know it. She’s as crazy about me as I am about her.
“I-I…” She looks away, stifling a cry, teeth pressing into her quivering bottom lip. “I love you, Avery.”
Gripping her chin, I jerk her face up to mine, hating every single one of those tears that track a hot path down her pink cheeks. “Then what the hell are you doing?”
Her hands find my shoulders, pushing down as she presses up on her toes. My arms wind around her back, holding her to me while she kisses me. Her tears coat her lips and mine, and I hate the saltiness, because all it represents is her pain, all the pain her ex has caused, the distrust he’s put in her head, the way he’s fucked with her huge heart, made her believe herself unworthy of love and happiness.
“I love you,” she whispers again when she pulls back. “I just need some time.”
“What? Time? What do you mean?” I reach wildly for her as she backs away, opening the door. “Claire, what are you doing? Where are you going?” Shit, I’m frantic. Is she leaving me? She can’t. I can’t.
“I just need a minute to think,” she says as she slips out the door, licking at her lips, swiping at her sopping cheeks. “Please don’t come after me.”
“Claire, no!” I follow her down the hallway, watching as she climbs into the elevator. “You can’t—”
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out through a sob.
Those bleary green eyes never leave mine as the doors close, swallowing up the woman I love more than anything in this world.
The cat wanders into the hallway, wrapping himself around my ankle as he meows up at me, tilting his head to the side, and tears slide down my face, because I have no idea what just happened, only that I just watched the love of my life walk out on me.
***
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Claire
Disappointment is when your own brother can’t even look at you.
He’s just slamming around the pots and pans he’s cleaning like it’s his damn job while I’m sitting on the floor, braiding Vivi’s hair before she goes to bed.
Casey and I fought a lot growing up, the way siblings do. Like, hair pulling, slapping, biting…All siblings do that, right? Or was it just us? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t just us. Dex and Charlee were the same, and Avery and Harper still hair-pull and smack each other around all the time.
We bickered, but it was never real. He never stayed angry with me. We didn’t go to bed without saying goodnight, and he was there with a hug for me every single day.
But tonight? Tonight he’s angry.
“You sleepin’ ova, Auntie Claire?” Vivi asks me, brushing her doll’s hair.
“Uh huh,” I murmur absently, wrapping a hair tie around the braid I’ve just finished. Gripping her head, I pull her backwards, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “That okay with you, princess?”
“I fink Uncle A’wy will miss you.”
“He’ll be okay.” I hate the bitter, sour taste of the words, but hope for his sake it’s not a lie.
A loud clanging has my head lifting, my gaze landing on Casey as he grips the countertop, hanging his head over the sink. He shakes his head, not knowing I’m watching him.
“Daddy mad,” Vivi whispers to her doll. She’s so damn observational. Twisting, she places her little hand on my knee. “Don’t worry. Daddy still luh you.” She holds her palms up in a shrug. “Sometimes we just get mad.”
“I know, baby.” I pull her into my lap and smother her in a hug, because I need some loving right now. My head hurts, my heart aches, and my stomach is in complete disarray. The first thing I did when I exited the condo building was promptly throw up in a street trashcan that already smelled suspiciously like vomit.
