There was no denying that I was avoiding Enoch after my meltdown. Sure, I had responded to his text messages, and I’d even answered his calls, but that was easy when we both were working. It was the evenings when neither of us had work, when he invited me to his house, that I had to come up with excuses that weren’t too obvious. Although, I was sure he was starting to catch on after three nights in a row of telling him I had plans.
I was running out of excuses. It wasn’t like I was a naturally social or busy person. I even followed through with my alleged plans, simply because I couldn’t handle the guilt. But a girl’s night with Lottie and Hannah, a night at the gym, and another night of catching up on housework meant I was limited in options tonight for things I was going to be doing that would keep Enoch away.
I sighed, tossing my phone onto my bed as I changed into a sports bra and some gym clothes. It wasn’t even the usual day of the week that I would weight train in my apartment’s small gym, but I needed something to keep me occupied. Something that didn’t involve cutting myself and disassociating from reality.
My heart jolted when I saw that he was calling me.
I reluctantly answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey,” he said. I could already tell he was smiling. “So, this gym session, any chance I can join you?”
I closed my eyes, my hand fisting at my side.
“Um, sure.”
“Or…not? You don’t sound excited about the idea. Am I being too clingy?”
I massaged my temples, shaking my head to myself.
“No. You’re not. I’m just…”
“Avoiding me?” He finished.
I sighed. “Kind of.”
“Why? Did I do something?” His question was earnest, like he actually thought he had done something wrong. Like I wasn’t the one fucking this whole thing up. I knew confessing about my plans to kill myself were going to make things weird, and I’d kind of been hoping he would call this whole thing off. But neither my sins, nor my suicidal ideations, seemed to deter him from his dedication to our future together.
“No. You didn’t do anything. I-I’m just embarrassed,” I said softly, sinking down onto the edge of my bed.
“Embarrassed?” He parroted in surprise. “What? Why?”
“You know why…” I traced the outline of the butterfly tattoo on my arm.
“The nightmare thing?”
I paused, my jaw clenching. “Yeah.”
Enoch took a deep breath, and I hung my head, frustrated that I was fucking everything up. Again.
“Can you tell me why you’re embarrassed?”
Seriously?
“What do you mean, why? The whole fucking thing was embarrassing. I completely fucking lost it over something sostupid.”
There was a pause, as if Enoch was waiting to make sure I was completely finished speaking.
“Stupid? What do mean?”
“Like, dumb, ridiculous. I saw the blood and I…I fucking…” I sighed, my nail scratching over and over my tattoo. Like it wasn’t already permanent. “I cried. I lost control. And I don’t do that. I don’t do that.”
“Why not? Why don’t you let yourself fall apart?”
My jaw ached from clenching it. “I don’t like being weak.”
“Shiloh,” he said on a whispered sigh. “You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”
“Not with you?”
