“Yeah, but now you don’t have to be.”
There’s still a look of doubt marring his features, and that bothers me. Have I made him feel like I’m a flight risk? I guess, maybe, I did. I know I told him that I didn’t know if I’d be ready for something serious again, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want him in my life at all.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to?—”
“Tate,” I cut him off, “I do what I want to do. You know I do. If I didn’t want to be here with you, I wouldn’t be.”
“I…” He trails off, and I can feel him physically starting to tremble in my hands, making my brows furrow deeper. His hands fidget as he struggles to meet my gaze once more.
As much as I want to say something, I don’t. It’s important for him to have the space to get his words out, especially right now. The effort he’s put into communicating with me and being more comfortable the past few weeks has been such a giant leap from where he started. I know it’s hard for him to convey his feelings, so I wait. I give him the patience he deserves.
“I think I…” he swallows, his jaw clenching as he struggles to get the words out, but I just wait. I hold him and I wait, “I’m in this…w-way deeper than… I don’t know if I’ll b-be able to…”
He’s getting upset with himself. His jaw clenches visibly in frustration, and I nod encouragingly, sweeping my thumbs over his cheekbones once more.
“Hey,” I whisper sweetly, dropping my head to meet his eyes, “it’s just me, Tate. Just talk to me.”
“That’s the problem,” he croaks.
I frown.
“N-no, not like that,” he stutters quickly, shaking his head from my hands. “You’re not the problem, Mae.Iam the problem. I like you so much that I… Jesus, I d-don’t know. I just know that this is…different for me now. I won’t be able to pretend it’s not when you decide I’m not what you want.”
My eyes widen partially at the nickname, my hands dropping into my lap as I practically gawk over at him. He called me Mae, not Evie, just…Mae. What my family calls me, and he must have noticed. My heart swells in my chest.
“You called me Mae.”
He blinks a few times before nodding. “Yes.”
I recollect myself, clearing my throat as I sit up a little straighter. My nickname is not the point here, he is.Thisis.
“Listen, Clark, there’s nothing wrong with you. There’s not a single thing about you that I don’t like. Why are you so sure that I wouldn’t want you?”
“Well, I…”
“It’s not about whether or not I want you,” I say softly, “it’s about whether or not I’mreadyfor you. I’m scared that I’ll never be the person you deserve to have, Tate. The partner you’d deserve to have.”
His brows knit together as his dark eyes observe me for a moment, and with the way his mouth pinches, I know he disagrees. I know what he’s going to say.
“I would never make you wait for me,” I tell him, reading his mind. “I wouldn’t want you to. That’s so unfair. You deserve more than that.”
“But isn’t it my choice?” he asks in a weak voice.
With a huff of frustration, I push off the bed, standing up and crossing my arms over my chest as I pace back and forth in front of him. Debating whether or not I should let the feelings boiling inside me explode. Debating on what to say without crushing him permanently.
“What if I’m never ready?” I whine, flinging my hands in the air and feeling awful the moment I do. His entire frame shrinks. “Would you settle for friendship forever? No marriage? No kids? That’s what you want?”
“What if, someday, you are?” he counters quietly.
Glass half full kind of guy, that’s who Tatum is. I always wished to be that kind of person, but instead, I’m the one who prepares for the worst. I need to be prepared for any possible bad outcome, to protect myself. To avoid getting hurt.
“What if that someday is five years from now?” I shoot back. “Ten?”
“I’d say…” he pauses, “that’s still plenty of time left to spend with you.”
I sigh deeply, my shoulders sagging as my hands drop to my sides. For a moment, I really don’t know what to say. It’s like, suddenly, I feel so drained that all I want to do is crawl back into bed and go to sleep.Even my eyes feel heavy, my energy depleted from the weight of this conversation. This is too much pressure, too much?—
Tatum stands from the bed, still naked, wrapped in the flimsy sheet that he holds around his waist. His chest heaves ashe steps closer to me, his hands shaky as he reaches out to brush my hair back behind my ear.
