Silence. Cold air between us.
"You want to know what's going on?" I looked back at her. "Nothing. But it doesn't matter because you don't believe me anyway."
Her face changed. Hurt flashing sharp across it.
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it? You've already decided I'm lying. Already made up your mind. So what's the point?"
"I want you to be honest with me."
"I am being honest."
"You're not." Her voice cracked. "You shut me out. Every time I try to get close, you pull away. And I keep telling myself it's justhow you are. That you need space. That if I'm patient enough, you'll eventually let me in."
She wiped at her face with the back of her hand. Quick. Angry at herself for crying.
"But you won't, will you? You're never going to let me in."
The guilt hit like a fist.
She was right. She'd been right all along and I'd been too much of a coward to admit it.
"I'm sorry." My voice came out rough. "Emily, I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"Didn't mean what? To shut me out? To make me feel crazy for asking questions?"
She looked away toward the water. Arms crossing again. Protecting herself.
From me.
"I fucked up." The words felt inadequate. "I've been fucking up for a while. You deserve better than what I've been giving you."
She didn't respond. Kept staring at the water.
"And you're right. About all of it. I do shut you out. I don't let you in. And it's not fair to you."
Silence.
"Emily, please look at me."
She did. Slowly. Red eyes. Blotchy cheeks. Hurt that I'd put there.
My chest ached.
"I care about you," I said, quieter. "I do. And I hate that I keep hurting you."
"Then why do you do it?"
Because I don't know how to be what you need. Because every time you try to get close, I panic. Because I'm so fucked up inside that I can't even—
"I don't know," I said. "I'm sorry. I don't know."
Her face crumpled slightly. Like she'd been hoping for a different answer.
"I don't know if I can trust you again," she said. Brutal honesty. "You lied. You shut me out. When I try to be close, you pull away."
"I know."
