My breathing picks up just thinking about it all. It feels like a defining moment, a moment where I’m supposed to ask her what we are later when we’re alone, but something inside me tells me she’s not ready for that. She’s still picking up her own pieces.
I don’t know how todoany of this.
I don’t know the protocol. The procedure. No one's taught me how to be the right guy, theperfectguy, and up until now, I would’ve never been concerned about something like that. But now… Now I care so much that I can’t breathe.
I’m spiraling.
Breathe, breathe, breathe.
“Hey.” Maeve nudges me with her elbow once we’re out of the house and walking down the steps. Her parents are watching us as we go out to my truck, ready to send us off with a wave. “What happened back there?”
I peek over at her as I walk up to the passenger side door, opening it up for her and waiting until she reluctantly crawls inside before I shrug. “Nothing happened.”
I’m closing the door for her before she can say anything, and as the confusion mars her face, guilt pools deep in my stomach. But I don’t want to explain anything out here in the open with eyes on us like this. I want to at least wait until we’re in the safety of the truck, driving down the road, where no one can see us.
She’s practically fully turned in the seat toward me once I climb in on the other side, and I swallow the lump in my throat before starting the truck.
“Tatum.”
The full name throws me off, and I peek over at her with a small hum.
“Did I freak you out?” she asks, her voice small.
I frown at her, taking in the way her arms are crossed over her chest, which heaves quickly now that I’m paying attention. “Freak me…out?”
“With the summer stuff. With everyone acting like they’d see you again,” she says, urgency lacing her words. “I freaked you out, didn’t I? That was too much. There was just so much going on, I went with it and?—”
“It didn’t freak me out,” I interrupt in a soft voice, “but I thought it freaked you out… M-Maybe?”
We’re pulling away from her childhood home as I speak, but we both wave at her parents, standing on the porch and sending us off. Maeve is quiet for a moment, and when I sneak a glance over at her, she looks sad. Her entire body sags in the seat, and I realize this isn’t easy for her. The goodbyes.
Reaching over hesitantly, I take her hand in mine.
I like how comfortable I’ve been, doing the small things like this. How comfortable I am when I’m around her now.
“Why would it freak me out?” she eventually asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Because…” I trail off, gulping down the cottony wad of saliva in my throat. “I-I’ve never… I don’t…” I sigh, “I don’t know how to d-do this. I don’t know what this means for…me and you.”
The way she pulls her hand out of mine makes my heart plummet into my gut.
“I like you, Tate,” she speaks so softly, I’m not sure I even hear her correctly. “I hope you believe me when I say that. I just… I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to…morethan like you. I have a hard enough time liking myself. I think I owe it to me to figure that out first. You know?”
Hearing that would throw someone else off, but it doesn’t throw me off. She’s just scared. She’s scared of more than liking me, so she’s trying to convince herself that it wouldn’t be possible. To avoid it at all costs. It’s all she knows. How can I fault her for that?
Of course I know she still needs to heal, to figure herself out.
I’ve always known.
And she’s right; she needs to learn how to be happy alone. To be happy with herself. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt a little bit to hear, just the same. I have to just remember that herfear is going to lead most of her decisions until she figures out exactly what she wants for herself, and that’s okay.
“And I feel like you deserve someone who is going to be sure about you,” she continues. “Who can give you what you need. Not someone who would just make you wait around.”
I don’t mind waiting,I want to say.
I’ve waited twenty-two years for you.
But I don’t say anything because I feel so choked up that I know if I speak, it’ll be more than obvious. The last thing I need is to get upset in front of her, like some kind of little kid. To be honest, I think I have some things to work through myself. When all this started, I wasn’t expecting it to weigh so heavily on my heart the way it does now. I was attached to her from the moment we first spoke, and the way I feel now solidifies that.
