Maybe Blair is right. Maybe I do need some time to think about things.
Starting my car, I pull out of my parking spot and let muscle memory take over as I begin the drive home.
How the fuck did we get here? One minute everything is fine between us, and the next she’s trying to end things.
Maybe it was stupid to assume we were on the same page just because she knew where I stood. I fucking hate that the guys were right. I should have spoken to her about all of this sooner. Now we’re dealing with some psychotic stalker, and I’ve lost my chance.
My mind conjures an image of Blair when she stumbled into the weight room, her beautiful brown eyes wide and puffy, her nose red and mouth tight with worry. Fuck, the way my heart lurched when I didn’t know what was wrong. I was ready to fight the world or anyone who may have hurt her.
But how do you fight an anonymous enemy that could be absolutely anyone?
I also hate that the guys were right aboutibyrne4u27. I should have let the organization know the minute I got that email. If I had, maybe they would have found her already, and I could have a restraining order in place. That would make it so much easier to get one for Blair too.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I try to run through every possible scenario in my head. Scenarios where Blair doesn’t break things off with me and we continue on the way we have. She stays my girlfriend and we keep dating.
But for how long? Where does it lead? Are we still justdatingwhen we’re seventy and our bodies start to give out? Do we keep living separate lives, only combining them when it’s convenient for me to do so?
I run scenarios where Blair refuses to reconsider breaking things off. I imagine what it would be like if I never got to hold her again. If we never fell asleep on the couch after a movie. If I never got to spend a single holiday with her. I imagine Reed graduating from high school, and I’m not there to cheer him on, proud and happy.
My chest tightens, and breathing becomes difficult. My body flushes with heat, but it’s not the pleasant kind. It’s the kind that makes my skin feel itchy and tight.
The leather steering wheel creaks under the strength of my grip.
Scenario after scenario runs through my head, showing me what it would be like to lose Blair and Reed, and I have to pull over into a grocery store parking lot because I can’t. Fucking. Breathe.
What is happening to me?
I never wanted a relationship. I never wanted to be responsible for another person, let alone two. But I never realized what I was missing out on by keeping everyone besides my teammates at arm’s reach.
Taking care of Blair and Reed makes me happy. The way Blair’s eyes crinkle in the corners when I surprise her with a coffee in the middle of a workday and her smile lights up her face. The little crease that formed between her eyebrows after buying her that coat. The look of surprise that morphed into genuine pleasure when I showed up at Reed’s football game that first time.
And Reed. I always wanted a little brother or sister, but I never could have conjured one as awesome as him. He’s such agreat kid. Funny, smart, protective of his older sister, but still vulnerable in a way that compels you to protect him.
I can’t lose either of them.
I love them both.
Oh, shit. I love them.
How did this happen? How the fuck did I fall in love with the woman who snuck out of my room after a night of epic sex, only to pretend she didn’t recognize me when she showed up at my job days later? Because it’s not just that I enjoy spending time with her, or that the sex is great. Both of those things are true, but it’s so much more than that.
I can’t imagine my life without her.
Well, I can, but it’s a miserable fucking picture.
My dad makes breakups look easy. I’ve never seen him hyperventilate when one of his wives moves out and files for divorce. He’s never so much as shed a tear.
I guess, in that regard, at least, I’m nothing like my dad.
Then reality slams into me like a runaway train.
When I let myself start a relationship with Blair, I ensured I didn’t end up like my dad.
Instead, I’m very much in danger of ending up just like my mom.
