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“Not for a few months,” I say. “I’m sure he’s just distracted by the engagement and that’s why he didn’t say anything.”
She looks at me, her eyes flickering across my face. Whatever she’s searching for, I don’t think she finds. “Right,” she murmurs. “Okay. Right…”
“Right,” I agree.
The silence expands. It’s like hot air, filling and filling and filling, and I can’t stop thinking that I’m supposed to be the one who pops the balloon.
But Laura sits there, quietly nodding, and it hurts like maybe the balloon is in my lungs, orismy lungs. So I ignore it.
“Well,” she says, and she slaps her hands on her knees. “Before youmove to Francethen. Let’s not dwell on it.”
“Dwell on it?” I repeat in surprise.
She nods, ponytail bouncing. “Yep. No need, right?”
“Right.”
The room feels stifling now. My feet tap on the floor, and I can see Laura’s legs jiggling as she bounces her knees up and down. She must be feeling what I am feeling—this dread, this annoyance, this fury at the inevitability of our relationship.
“So the trip?—”
“Just Valentine’s Day weekend,” I say. “We’ll… Well, we’ll mostly be celebrating Jessica and Lewis anyway.”
“Okay. I’ll… I’m going to go?—”
“You can stay,” I interrupt. I shouldn’t, but I do. “I mean, you can have your waffles, at least. Damon can drive you?—”
“David, stop,” she snaps. I blink in surprise. Her expression is hard. Her hair is in that messy bun.
“Okay.”
“We’re done,” she says.
I frown. “I know.”
“I mean it,” she adds, standing up. Because I’m still sitting on the stool, it puts her at the same height as me, well almost. In a different world, I’d lean forward and kiss her. “No more back and forth, no more playing pretend when we’re alone. Things are different now. You’re leaving me.” She pauses, and then inhales softly. “At least, that’s what they’ll think. Lewis and Jessi… they know you took that… that job, that you’re leaving me. So… we’re right to look… strained.”
She turns on her heel and goes back up the stairs. I consider following her, but I…
She’s right.
She’s right, and I know it.
When Laura comes back down, I stand up. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Laura, I…”
“I get it,” she interrupts. “We’re not dating. We’d never work, anyway, would we? And we aren’t… Well, I guess I’m just surprised. But, you know. Congrats on the transfer. It’s a real clean way to end this situation, isn’t it?”
I don’t even know what to say to that. I just nod a little. She looks at me hard.
“This lasted… a lot longer than I thought it would, if I’m being honest,” Laura says.
It feels like a knife twisting. “Me, too,” I reply. Her hair is still in the messy bun, though she’s in her regular clothes instead of pajamas now. “Thanks for going along with it for so long.”
“For the kids,” she adds.
I nod. “For the kids.”
