Annoyance flitters over my skin.Of course he doesn’t want to talk about it.
This isn’t what I want. I don’twantto struggle through important conversations. I need him to talk to me. I need him to trust in me enough to share his buried wounds and personal tribulations.
I hate that I don’t know how to make that happen. That we had something so incredibly special that was stripped away by the storm clouds that rolled in above us. They’re a permanent fixture, dangling with the most conniving smirks on their emotionless faces just because they can.
I lean back in my seat, feeling resigned. “Fine, Colson. We don’t have to talk at all.”
I reach for my bag propped on the floor and dig out my notebook for class. I’m boiling with unadulterated irritation but trying like hell to shift my focus to something that will mellow me out.
Two minutes go by before he says, “Jesus, Violet, put your book away.” It sounds like an order, but it’s not a very demanding one.
“If you don’t want to talk, then I’ll keep myself busy,” I retort.
“Why’d you come then? When it’s clear you don’t even want to fucking be here. You want to study for your bullshit classes then go do it at home.”
I nibble on the corner of my lip becausehow fucking dare he.
I’m here for his own well-being, whether he knows it or not. I wonder if he knew, if he’d change his tune, if he’d treat me with a little more kindness. If he’d stop looking at me like he suddenly doesn’t want me next to him.
Our eyes connect when I look up, my notebook resting on my lap. “You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that? I’m here because I want to be.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he breathes out, annoyed with himself, as his eyes fall closed. “It’s the meds. They make everything feel like so much more than it is.” His voice softens, and he opens his eyes to look at me. “Still, you don’t need to be here, Vi. I’ll be good on my own. Go home,” he says in defeat with a gentleness he didn’t have a minute ago.
When he turns his attention back to the movie on the TV, I get this urge to rip the screen off the wall and toss it out the window when he pretends like I’m not sitting in the chair next to him anymore.
All along, I’ve only ever wanted to be there for him. I wanted to stand by his side and help him through the hardships because Ilovehim. I’ve tried communicating with him time and time again for him to repeatedly push me away and tell me he didn’t want me anymore.This is why I didn’t want to come and put myself back out there.
My tongue rolls over the fronts of my teeth, and I let out an exasperated breath. Emotion claws at my heart and clutches it in a fine grasp when I don’t force it away. The heartbreak I’ve worked so hard to get over circles me.
I shove my notebook back into my bag and stand. I hoist the strap of my bag over my head and walk for the door. If he doesn’t want me here, then fine,I’ll leave. Finn can figure this out on his own.
My hand curls around the door handle, ready to yank it open and be free, except Colson’s voice tackles me from behind.“Violet, wait.” There’s a sincerity in it but also this pleading undertone that voices how much he needs me to listen. “Please,” he mutters. “I’m sorry I’m being an asshole. I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to watch you walk out that door and be left with the guilt that’ll consume me when I realize how much I’ve fucking ruined what was between us.”
My hand pulses on the cool metal handle. I debate ignoring him and walking out, similar to the night of his accident when I received his text. Until I remember what followed; the horrific news of him being hurt.
I turn back around and ask him the one thing that has been prodding me in my sides ever since. I want to know why he sent that message. “Why did you want to meet up with me?”
Confusion slips over his features, taking some of the heartbreak that was present in his tone. “Meet up with you?”
Grabbing my phone out of my sweatpants pocket, I lift it and show it to him. “You sent me a message the night of your accident. Don’t you remember?”
“Oh, shit,” he sighs. “I forgot about that.”
“You said you wanted to meet up and talk. Why? What did you want to talk about? I need to know so I can gain clarity or closure. Something other than what I’ve been feeling.”
His teeth scrape over his bottom lip and he asks, “What are you feeling?”
I shake my head, glancing away before settling back on him. There’s a wide berth between me and his bed. One I don’t plan on closing anytime soon. “Like what we had was nothing. Like you don’t want me here. Like we’re not worth fighting for. Like if I walk away now, it’ll be the end of whatever is left of us.”
“So, then don’t walk away.”
“Colson, I?—”
“No,lookat me.”
“I am looking at you. A minute ago, you told me to go home. Now you’re telling me to stay. It’s so fucking confusing. I don’t know what to think or feel when I’m in the same room as you because I don’t…”
His capable hand fists the bed sheets below him. “Because you don’t what?”
