As the hours trickle by, regret congeals. As she takes each name card, she becomes more disgusted with herself. She thinksabout how she’s torturing him, and herself. She thinks about how much this might ruin his day, and when she sees the top of his head, she nearly throws up. When he spots her, confusion flashes and then smooths into impassiveness.
And something raw and painful opens inside her.
“Congratulations,” she says quickly, passing his card to the reader.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, walking up the steps and onto the stage.
And just like that, it’s over.
She stands until the final name is called, carved out, as she drops off the lanyard to walk outside to her car, fully prepared to go home and hide under her bed for the next three days, but a tall shadow leaning against it stops her.
“Roman,” she says, startled.
A green gift bag sways in his hand, and his gown still hangs from his shoulders.
“Here.” He sticks his arm out. “It’s from everyone.”
She shakes her head, refusing to move closer.
Why are you making this so hard?
His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches. “Take it, Jahlani. Danica will have my head if you don’t.”
She steps forward and takes the bag with shaky hands. “What’s it for?” She asks, her voice quiet.
He drags a hand down his face and sighs. “You graduated this semester too, Jahlani.”
She clutches the bag tighter, as her vision begins to swim. He turns to walk toward his car.
“Roman—”
He groans, stopping to face her. “Do you remember … when you asked me if this was just an itch that needed to be scratched?”
She nods, lowering her eyes. “I—sure. Yeah.”
He exhales deeply, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I wanted to tell you that it wasn’t an itch for me because I knew before you became my GTA. It was always a rash for me, Jahlani. Always.”
She scoffs through a laugh that steadily dissolves into tears down her face. She presses her palms into her eyes and nods.
For me too.
“I hope you get everything you’ve ever wanted,” he says softly.
“Don’t say that,” she says, wiping the back of her hand against her cheeks. “You’re supposed to … pray for my demise. You’re supposed to hate me.”
He sigh is rough. “I could never hate you, Jahlani.”
She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. With one last simmering look, he opens his car door and slides inside, not bothering to look back.
Want.
Need.
Not mine.
CHAPTER 36
TRY SLEEPING WITH A BROKEN HEART
