He topped off my glass. “When do you go?”
I swallowed. “Well. Reeti wants to move out the middle of June. I don’t want to be allowed to stay on as some kind of favor.” The memories of the Couch Years loomed. “So that kind of depends on you.”
He picked up his knife again. “The sooner, the better, I would think.”
A little chill chased down my arms. This was not going at all the way I expected. “What do you mean?”
“We can’t go on like this much longer.” He met my eyes. With difficulty, I thought. “Frankly, I’m relieved.”
There was a roaring in my ears. I couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I thought... I hoped you might ask me to stay here. With you.” Was that too presumptuous? “Just until the end of the summer,” I added.
He went still for a moment before he set his knife and fork down, very carefully, on his plate. “That’s not... a good idea. You’re going through a lot of changes in your life right now. We shouldn’t rush into moving in together simply because it’s convenient.”
“I’d pay you,” I blurted. “Rent, I mean.”
“It’s not a question of money. We haven’t actually known each other that long.”
“Nine months.” I flushed. “Since I met you. Which, okay, maybe isn’t very long compared with Laura. But she cheated onyou with your best friend, so time doesn’t really matter, right?” I was babbling. I knew it, and I couldn’t bring myself to stop. “Anyway, look at Reeti and Vir. They practically just met, and they’re happy. They will be happy. Together.”
“Because they know each other’s families. They share the same background. They want and expect the same things from life.” His gaze dropped to the congealing pork chop on his plate. “This isn’t you,” he said, which had to be the worst cliché ever. “You’re wonderful. This is me. If we had more time...”
The chill coalesced into a lump of ice in my chest. Okay, this was bad. He was scarred, because of Laura. And I was scared, because of Gray. But I was not running away this time. I wasn’t hiding how I felt. We could fix this, whatever it was. We would talk it out, and then... and then...
“We could have two whole months,” I blurted. Two months was a lot—more than Toni and I had lived almost anywhere. Any longer than that and we’d almost certainly overstayed our welcome.
“And then what?”
My mind blanked. “Well, I... I can’t stay in Ireland. Not on a student visa. The program is only for a year.”
“Precisely.”
My chest felt tight. I couldn’t breathe. “But I can come back. To visit. And for graduation.”
“You want a long-distance relationship.”
“Not really,” I admitted. “But we could make it work.”
“Not in my experience,” Tim said.
“I’m not Laura.”
“No.”
We were back to one-word answers again. That couldn’t be good. “So, what do we do?” I asked.
The light reflected off his glasses. “What do you want to do?”
Move in with you, dummy.But I wouldn’t beg.
I gulped. “The thing is... I can’t really think beyond the summer right now. I put everything I wanted on hold for Gray. I don’t want to spend my life as an unemployed English major who once slept with a famous author. I have to finish my dissertation. I want to write my book.”
“I understand. I’m not standing in your way. But I can’t spend two months living with you, knowing that you’re going. It’s too painful. Like bloody hospice. Sitting around waiting for something to die.”
“But I love you,” I said, and sat there, waiting for him to say it back.Willinghim to say it back.
Or not. This was Tim, after all, who thought words were overrated. But surely, I thought, my heart beating wildly, he would saysomething.
He rubbed his breastbone. Another bad sign. “I care for you.” A pause. “Very much.”
